One of the things I like best about dub music is that it’s the kind of music that always finds me when I need it. Sometimes I just need to chill out, or to take a breath, or to get laid, or remember to stop worrying about things out of my control. Dub music is perfect for all of that, and Nevaris has returned with another solid dub record for all of that – SoundSession.
The album consists of four tracks, all of them recorded in a single session in May 2023. They bring together Nevaris and his excellent hand percussion work with heavyweights like Peter Apfelbaum (saxophone, flute), Will Bernard (guitar), Matt Dickey (guitar), DJ Logic (turntables), Jojo Kuo (percussion), Bill Laswell (production), Lockatron (drums), Jonathon Maron (bass), and Angel Rodriguez (percussion).
“Ninth Sun” immediately hooks you from the first few notes and settles you into what you know is going to be a groovy, trippy time. Apfelbaum’s saxophone is practically incense smoke moving through the room. It’s jazzier on “Remedy,” with neat, stretched guitar sounds from Bernard and Dickey, and sizzling hand percussion and distorted synths that bring spaghetti westerns and back alley Negril bars to mind.
Lockatron is locked-in on “Document,” putting the whole band in his pocket and letting them know they can go bonkers and he’ll be the silver cord anchoring them to the material plane. DJ Logic’s scratches and long, almost droning guitar chords seem to extend the space around you. Apfelbaum’s saxophone solo on the track is high-class.
The album’s final track is its biggest. “Dub Orchestra” clocks in at nearly eighteen minutes with Logic’s scratches sounding like a mystical crow or raven chattering away as it leads you down a winding path. Apfelbaum’s flute is something on the wind you hear as you walk, and the percussion from Nevaris, Kuo, Lockatron, and Rodriguez is a treat. All four improvise with each other with no one overpowering the other. It’s a long, cool trip and worth the drive.
The record is just what you need, whether you know it or not.
Belgian stoner metal trio MOTSUS have returned from the galaxy next door with a new record, Atlas, that continues their exploration of heavy riffs and cosmic themes. “Atlas” can refer to the character of Greek myth who held the world upon his back, never succumbing to its heavy weight, or the comet discovered by the Atlas telescope in Chile in July 2025. The album’s cover seems to be a drawing of a futuristic science research outpost / doomsday shelter, possibly built from storage containers, and, knowing MOTSUS’ prior output, is probably on another planet or even floating in space.
“Driver” is suitable for playing while in orbit or for terraforming a distant planet with its rumbling drums and chugging guitars. “Duna” downshifts into trippy, melty psych-rock and lets you drift for over eight minutes along some gravity well that is either holding up or pulling down the planet, depending on your perspective.
The heavy sounds of “Exploder, Pt. II” are great. You’ll find yourself slowly head-banging as it rolls around your head and the room and the air around you. It fills every space for almost ten minutes until “Short Notice” gives you a two-minute rest before “Turboslak” shows up to pull you into an asteroid field in deep space, and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of it with one hundred percent hull integrity. The guitars and drums hammer like rocks of various sizes bouncing off the ship while you start landing procedures on one that looks like a good place to build the structure on the album’s cover.
Atlas is another good one from MOTSUS. Put it on, fire the ignition, and take off with it.
It’s difficult to describe 88Kasyo Junrei (“Pilgrimage to 88 Places”). They tend to keep a lot of stuff about the band secret, only release their albums through their own label (PPR – Psychedelic Progressive Revolution), rarely translate their lyrics into any other language in print (and even leave them cryptic in Japanese, preferring fans interpret their songs however they’d like), and have only played outside Japan once (in France in 2019). I found out about them by stumbling upon one of their music videos (“Saramato” – a 2023 song about a utopian city that exists either in their minds, in another dimension, or in the future) on YouTube while going down a rabbit hole of Japanese metal bands like Ningen Isu and Bo Ningen.
Their newest album (the ninth in fourteen years), Hachi Tasu Kyu (“8 Plus 9”), is a massive wallop (two discs) of prog-rock, psychedelic trips, and metal shredding mantras. Most of the songs on the album, and their catalog as a whole, have prominent Buddhist and Shinto themes (as also reflected in the band’s name).
Opener “Nōsōkyoku” (“Brain Damage”, a single released in 2024) tosses you head-first into their wild world with stunning guitar work from Katzuya Shimizu. “Yaoyoroz” has grand sweeps of heavy riffs mixed with shoegaze drone…and drummer Kenzo never lets up the whole time, sounding like he must be a cyborg by how relentless and exact his drumming is. “Fukyōon” (“Dischord”) is the first single off the album, and it’s a great choice as it showcases each of the member’s talents. Bassist and vocalist Margarette Hiroi is on fire throughout it with his tension-building and releasing vocals and insane riffs, while Shimizu continues burning the place down with his shredding and Kenzo plays so hard and fast it sounds like he’s trying to drill to the Earth’s core with his kit.
The groove and funk of “Chikagoro Dō Shiteru?” (“What Have You Been Up To?”) and “Yukō” is slick. Both are fun tracks showing that 88Kasyo Junrei could be a prog-funk band anytime they want. After the brief “Insuon 1” (“Instrumental 1”), we get the frantic, rocking “Ale.!!”
“Zekkyō NOW!” (“Shout NOW!”) starts out with ripping thrash metal guitar from Shimizu and then Hiroi and Kenzo are off to the races, putting down a jaw-dropping groove that never lets up for a moment. The album’s “Unlucky Side” ends with “Furafura” (“Nirvana”) – a ballad-like track with Kenzo’s big drum fill flourishes, Hiroi’s bass a skipping stone across still water, and Shimizu’s guitar ranging from shoegaze to psych-jazz tones.
On the second disc (the “Lucky Side”), we have several singles that 88Kasyo Junrei have released since 2021 that haven’t been collected on an album until now. “Naraku Subuūfā” (“Hell’s Bells” – first released in 2022) is the first, sounding like it’s being played through an old radio at first, and then it bursts into a fast rocker (with vocals) after about a minute. Then comes “Insuon 2” (“Instrumental 2”), which shows off even more of their prog-chops. “Kichiku” (“Brute / “The Dark Side of the Moon” – also from 2022) brings forth more of the band’s love of grunge-metal, as some of it sounds like it was heavily influenced by Alice in Chains.
Hiroi’s bass groove on “Deishun” (“Muddy Springtime” / “Dusty Springfield”) will leave you speechless. Speaking of being gobsmacked, wait until you hear “Saramato” (“Paradise City”). I don’t know how Kenzo plays it without collapsing from exhaustion. If this song doesn’t make you a fan, I don’t know what will. “Garakuta no Sabaku” (“Desert Moon” / “Desert of Impurity and Rubbish”) has a cool, strolling groove throughout it, complete with a short drum solo from Kenzo. “Maka-maka-maka” (“A Love Supreme”) is bonkers. You’re not sure which member is playing faster.
“HOTOTOGISU” (“Silly Love Songs” / “Lesser Cuckoo”) is, unfortunately, not a cover of the Wings song (which would be amazing), but it’s just as quirky and fun. “Maen” (“Desire” / “Demon Flame”) reminds me of early 2000s alternative metal before it became overrun with “bro-rock” and “nu-metal” and was still experimental and not just cookie-cutter rock. It blends into the short and chaotic “8989” to wrap up the journey
It’s a stunning record, one that makes you want to dig up everything they have and then fly to Japan to catch them live even once.
Orbital‘s second album doesn’t really have a title (like their first). It’s commonly known as “Orbital 2” or “The Brown Album” (Because, you know, the cover is brown…and their first album is sometimes called “The Yellow Album” because, you know, the cover is yellow.).
Regardless of what you call it, it’s a techno classic starting with the Lt. Worf-narrated “Time Becomes” that lets you know time will loop, curve, and rebound on itself across the span of the record. The looped sample of “Even a stopped clock can give the right time twice a day.” on “Planet of the Shapes” further explores this theme of stretched, repeated, and warped time. Once the drums kick in, you’re dancing for almost nine straight minutes.
The next four tracks become one long, beautiful techno suite. Starting with “Lust 3-1,” and then drifting / floating / bumping / bouncing through “Lush 3-2,” “Impact (The Earth Is Burning),” and “Remind.” The first of the quartet has become a primer on what early to mid-1990s electronic music was at the time: Bright synths, big beats, and transcendental grooves. “Lush 3-2” flows right out of it and, somehow, becomes even better for dancing. The layered beats on it keep driving you forward, getting your heart rate up and your joints lubed for the third part of the suite. “Impact” is over ten minutes long, so I hope your cardio is good. By the time you get to “Remind,” you’re pretty much in an industrial club.
The repeating synth groove of “Walk Now…” is top-notch, bringing in sizzling house riffs on top of rave beats. “Monday” is almost an ambient track, amd “Halcyon + On + On” has become a rave classic by this point, having been remixed by probably hundreds of DJs across the years. It uses sampled female vocal sounds to lovely effect and the beats on it are crisp. It will throw you back into the early Nineties right away if you were anywhere near rave culture then.
The whole album will do this, even the weird “Input Out” ending with its strange, repeating sample that becomes almost hypnotic by the end. “The Brown Album” (not to be confused with the Primus album of the same name) still holds up today as prime rave music.
Inspired by Miles Davis‘ In a Silent Way, Nick Schofield‘s Blue Hour comes along just when we need it most. In a time when everyone is screaming (inward and outward, for right and wrong reasons depending on the individual) and everyone could use some grounding, Schofield helps us all stand still for a bit.
As the story goes, Schofield improvised and recorded the drum and synthesizer parts for the album in one day as he made his own riff of Davis’ classic album. Schofield then teamed up with trumpeter Scott Bevins who also improvised and recorded his parts in one day and without hearing anything Schofield had made beforehand.
The result is another stunning, beautiful record from Schofield. “Sky Cafe” and “Magic Touch” swell, soar, and soothe. The snappy, crisp beats of “Dream On” and its bright synths belong in a meet-cute scene from your favorite lost 1980s romantic comedy. “Goodnight Sun” and “Imagine Space” are almost krautrock-jazz with their looping synths and echoing trumpet.
“Natural Wonder” is like a lone trumpeter is playing across the street from a New Age bookstore that’s playing meditative synth music through their outdoor speakers. “Hidden Corner” will make you want to curl up in one with the song in your ears and a good book. The looping synths of “Hotel Cloud” relax you as Bevins’ trumpet carries your luggage while you chill out at the bar. “Kyoto Kiss” sends you from a hotel in the sky to a nice, modern spa in Japan where you’re in hurry to leave.
The album ends with the simply named “Times” to remind us that time can stretch if we let it. Time can become meaningless and nothing to worry about if we let it. The whole album reminds us of this in a time when we’re all rushed, grumpy, or just plain exhausted. We need albums like this to settle us.
Keep your mind open.
[I dream about you subscribing.]
[Thanks to Gabriel at Clandestine Label Services.]
At first listen to Mandy, Indiana‘s new album, URGH, you’re not sure what’s happening. The first track, “Sevastopol,” hits you with industrial synths, robot vocals, thudding drums, and warped orchestral sounds all in the same track.
URGH, like all Mandy, Indiana (who actually hail from Manchester in the UK) records, is multi-layered (like the album’s cover) with its instrumentation and subjects, but the overall theme seems to be rage. Mandy, Indiana are, like most of us, just pissed off right now and not afraid to call people out on their bullshit. The album’s title could be spoken as a tired sigh, a guttural growl, a response to a gut punch, or a grunt of hard effort.
“Magazine” tackles one of their favorite subjects – the objectification of women and the impossible standards women are expected to meet. “try saying” mixes video game bloops with wild processed drum sounds from Alex Macdougall and looped French vocals from Valentine Caulfield.
“Dodecahedron,” believe it or not, reminds me of early, heavier Art of Noise tracks. “A Brighter Tomorrow” could be a rallying call or a warning, depending on which side of history you’re choosing. I lean more toward it being a warning of sorts since Scott Fair‘s guitars sound like alarms blaring in the distance. “Life Hex” is a rager and feels like the bubbling anger under the surface of so many of us.
“ist halt so” combines big drums hits with guitars that sound like a belt sander on its last bits of battery charge while Caulfield commands your attention with her snarled vocal delivery. “Sicko” throbs with thick synths and electro-bass and includes guest bars from Billy Woods. “Cursive” is a bumping and bubbling techno track with beats that blend industrial pulse with tribal dance rhythms.
URGH ends with “I’ll Ask Her,” a wicked takedown of toxic masculinity, women’s beauty standards, and dudes who are such pricks that they don’t even realize their own friends are calling them out on it. Caulfield has made it no secret that she was dealing with the aftermath of a sexual assault (and other health issues, along with Macdougall having his own health problems) while writing this album. She and the rest of her bandmates pull no punches on the song or anywhere else on the record.
It’s an urgent record, a powerful record, a cathartic record, an inspiring record. It’s a record we need right now to get us out of the housefire, get our friends, family, and neighbors, out of theirs, and then find the bastards who lit the matches.
I’m not sure how to accurately describe Scattered Purgatory‘s new album, Post Purgatory, but I’m also not sure it’s possible. The Taipei duo blend multiple genres well: Trip-hop, industrial, motorik, synthwave, a bit of goth. The cover looks like an upside-down photo of a flooded underpass with a city (Taipei?) in the background. The world was turned upside-down for the band during the pandemic, and they emerged from it, like all of us, a bit puzzled by how time and space worked and what was certain. Human relationships and airy expanses craved during isolation now felt kind of weird. Time felt like “it can heal or it can destroy,” as they mention in the notes for the album.
“Atata Naraka” has wild tenor saxophone (courtesy of Minyen Hsieh) that blasts like its being played in that flooded underpass while you cruise over the floodwaters in a sleek Miami Vice-era boat. The thick bass and fuzzy guitar chords of “Wunai” sound like the set-up to a seduction sequence in a vampire thriller.
“Ephemeral Mind” is a good name for a good track that describes how most of the world felt during and after the pandemic. Our minds, preoccupied with distractions before the pandemic, and calmness of mind, became ephemeral to our doom-scrolling. Emerging from our cocoons made some of us realize we need to put the phone down, while others rushed to fill the silence of the world and our heads with even more distractions. The 1980s goth guitar chords on it are damn cool.
“Thundering Dream” is heavy with low bass and synth stabs that sound like they’re played by robots underwater. dotzio‘s guest vocals on “Moonquake” create a gorgeous trip-hop / chillwave track that you’ll probably put on romantic playlists all year. “Above the Clouds” has heavy metal guitar chords combined with soft vocal sounds and tripped-out synths to make something unpredictable…as is the short “KL20,” which is like Blade Runner background music.
“Ocean City, Mirage Tower” would also fit into a science fiction film as the lead character slurps noodles in a tiny place off a neon-lit alley waiting for robot bounty hunters to show up and ruin everything. It floats along like lotus petal along the rain-filled underpass, drifting from synthwave to dark funk to cinematic piano paranoia.
Time is weird. Scattered Purgatory figured this out years ago and made an album that has a title symbolizing multiple things: Emerging from the weird time of the pandemic (which felt like purgatory for many), becoming new versions of themselves (Post “Scattered” Purgatory), no longer dwelling on the past, mistakes, and regrets (essentially what purgatory is).
Time constantly happens, and yet it doesn’t. No is one really sure what the hell it is. It heals all wounds and also withers away everything. Now is the only part of it that exists. I’m writing this in my present and in your past. You’re reading it in my future and your present. All of those things are now, like this record.
I described Gran Moreno’s new album, El Sol, to a nephew as “Latino garage-psych.” That’s about the closest I can get to how they sound. Mix their hometown Austin, Texas love of heavy psych grooves with some blues influences, border rock, and metal riffs, then bake it in the desert sun, and you get the idea.
“Las Montañas” starts off the “sun” (“El Sol”) side of the album with enough heavy riffs to start a landslide or give you the power to scale literal and figurative mountains. The last minute of this song is like a match thrown on a trail of gasoline. It doesn’t so much flow into “Aztlan” as it roars into it like a flash flood through a desert wash.
“Huracán” is almost an arena-rock track with big, Brian May-like guitar riffs mixed with soulful, mellow chords. It’s another song of many on the album that reflect the elements: “Las Montañas” (“The Mountains”) are earth, “Huracán” (“Hurricane”) could be air and / or water. After it comes “Temple of Fire” with its marching beats and tales of a long road ahead to something grand on the horizon.
“La Mentira” (“The Lie”) brings in more heavy, fuzzy, bluesy swagger and grows into a scorcher by the end. “Oaxaca / Please Don’t Cry” has a great inclusion of saxophone and trumpet on it to elevate the song, somehow, even higher. The album (and the “La Luna” side) ends with “Hikuri” — a track that blends catchy guitar riffs with hammering power chords and drums that catch you off-guard every time.
It’s a strong record, and one I’d love to hear live. It must flatten you.
On their Live at Levitation album, it’s easy to forget that this recording was only the second show of A Place to Bury Strangers‘ current lineup (Oliver Ackermann – guitar and lead vocals, John Fedowitz – bass and lead vocals, Sandra Fedowitz – drums). They jumped right in (literally, in Ackermann’s case, as he was so frantic that his guitar almost flew into the stage) and proceeded to, as always, flatten the place.
Mrs. Fedowitz’s Devo-like drumming gets things off to a great start on “Dragged in a Hole.” Mr. Fedowitz’s bass throbs like a bubbling volcano on “Let’s See Each Other” as Ackermann’s voice and guitar bounce off every surface.
“We’ve Come So Far” always hits like a burst of anti-aircraft fire live, and this version is no exception. It’s difficult to tell which of the three is hitting harder on it…and that’s kind of the point. Mr. Fedowitz’s thick, sludgy bassline opens “Never Come Back” while Ackermann’s guitar sounds like jet engines starting, failing, roaring, and screeching.
Mrs. Fedowitz hits her toms so hard and fast in the first third of “Alone” that it’s surprising her drum tech didn’t have to replace them every eight bars or so. The breakdown / switch in the song that rushes it into heavy shoegaze is outstanding. “I Lived My Life to Stand in the Shadow of Your Heart” is another stunner. It sounds like the entire room is collapsing under an attack from a Martian tripod and barely gives you a chance to process everything that’s happening.
I say this about “Ocean” a lot, but it’s always true: Every time I think I’ve heard the loudest version of it live, APTBS somehow makes one even louder and wilder and more transcendent. This one evolves / devolves into feedback-chaos and almost makes your brain melt. The album ends with “Have You Ever Been in Love?”, which has Mrs. Fedowitz singing / chanting high notes to contrast the heavy, almost deafening buzz of the entire track.
APTBS shows are designed so you (and the people a couple blocks away) not just hear the music, but feel it. It rattles your whole body. My fiancé said, “I think I need a neck adjustment after that.” when she saw them for the first time. This album gets you close to that nerve-rattling, mind-altering sensation. My longtime description of APTBS is “They’re not for everyone, but I want everyone to hear them.”
Play this one loud, and everyone around you will (and should).
Dorthia Cottrell said that the title of her solo album Death Folk Country is a way to name “the world inside me.” You can guess from the album’s cover, an image of her as a vampire / werewolf / demoness / ghost, that this world is a dark place that hides and holds beauty and mystery.
After a soft instrumental opener, “Death Is the Punishment for Love,” “Harvester” curls into the room like fog that takes feminine shapes around you and threatens / entices you to stay in it forever. “Black Canyon” has Cottrell examining deep places within all of us, whether we want to admit they exist or not. They’ll emerge sooner or later “like a lover come back from the war.” The song is just her voice, an acoustic guitar, soft, rolling cymbals, and organ tones that sound like wind moving through a haunted house that eventually turns into birdsong.
“Family Annihilator” is the longest track on the album at nearly seven minutes. Cottrell sings, her voice echoing, about loss and the strength needed to continue moving forward through (and with) grief. The vocal effect of Cottrell’s voice being both lead and backing vocals (often in slightly different keys) is used throughout the record to great effect, making her sound like her physical and astral self are singing about the same thing from both earthly and cosmic perspectives.
“Effigy at the Gates of Ur” sounds like a lullaby. “Midnight Boy” brings in spaghetti western guitars and might be a love song about a back door man (to use an old blues term) or a love affair with a vampire (“If heaven could see what he’s doing to me, I’d be running like the devil in a cemetery.”). “Hell in My Water” combines violin tones with deep acoustic guitar sounds to create something that feels a bit menacing but you can’t help exploring it.
“Take Up Serpents” refers to a verse in the Bible declaring that one filled with the Holy Spirit could handle serpents without fear, and Cottrell seems to wonder if she’d ever be brave enough to seek such faith and strength. “For Alicia” is a lovely track about someone who’s going through pain and only wants someone else to carry that cross for a while. “Eat What I Kill” is just Cottrell’s haunting voice and acoustic guitar, but they’re enough to wallop you as she asks, “Are you saying my name like a curse?” and wonders if she’ll be lost forever after losing love yet again. “Of earthly pleasures, you can have your fill. I only want to eat the things that I kill,” she says. Damn. She’s not playing.
The album is bookended with “Death Is the Reward for Love,” and it’s a send-off of brighter synths and uplifting (yet still spooky) vocal effects to remind us that the amount of grief we have for love lost is equal to the amount of love we had.
It sounds simple to call this record “haunting,” but it is. It gets into you and lingers in your chest.
