It’s time for the top twenty of the 40+ albums I reviewed last year. Who’s in the top half?
#20: The Quality of Mercury – The Voyager
This one came out of nowhere and landed much like the alien craft on the cover. It’s a sharp mix of electro, prog-rock, and shoegaze…all done by one guy riffing on the idea of lonely spade travel.
#19: Fugue State – In the Lurch
Wild garage punk that will leave your stereo system feeling like the wreckage on the album cover. This is another band who came out of nowhere for me that I was glad to find.
#18: Dog Lips – Danger Forward
Loud, brash, and energetic post-punk here that stresses the punk more than the post. This was another band that came out of nowhere. Good stuff lies ahead for them, and for you if you snag this record.
#17: Birds of Nazca – Pangaea
Two Frenchmen making cosmic rock that sounds like it was made by at least a quartet because it’s so damn heavy and loud. It’s all instrumentals, too, which I love.
#16: Anika – Abyss
It’s always good to hear Anika, who returned in 2025 with another sultry and spooky record. Anika has a voice that can instantly hypnotize you, and her dark electro music is always alluring. I still need to catch her live one of these days.
Who’s in the top fifteen? You’ll have to come back tomorrow to learn that.
Hailing from Lyon, France, Désordre (Disorder) bring their three-song instrumental EP, L’Échappée Belle (The Great / Beautiful Escape – depending on how you choose to translate it) that’s indeed an escape from whatever reality you’re in now.
“Chèvre Bleue” (“Blue Goat”) is a cool track that builds from desert rock mellow riffs to heavy space rock lift-offs, and then back to desert rock, but this time you’re racing across the desert on horseback and instead of taking a slow ride on a camel.
“Ordalie” (“Ordeal”) stomps the gas pedal and cranks the volume, giving you the energy to power through whatever trial or tribulation you might be experiencing. It will make you feel like you’re in an action film at times, and like you’re meditating on a mountain at others.
“Débordé” (“Overwhelmed”) does this balancing act just as well, deftly moving back and forth between stoner rock power and psych-rock mind trips. It can indeed feel overwhelming at times, but Désordre know when to pull back and let you get a breath before they toss you into orbit again.
It’s a solid EP that bodes well for a future full-length LP from them. It feels like a pre-launch sequence to an interstellar mission.
Check out that album cover. That pretty much sums up how The Quality of Mercury‘s new album, The Voyager, is going to sound.
Jeremiah Rouse, otherwise known as The Quality of Mercury, has come back from a nine-year journey to release his new record, and my guess is that was how long he was cruising around in that spaceship on the album’s cover because The Voyager is full of cosmic riffs and epic sounds that seem to drift around distant planets or alongside speeding comets.
“Moonrise” starts off the journey with Rouse proclaiming, “Sleeping giant rise. It’s time to breathe the stars.” The sleeping giant could be us, the moon, the Earth, a celestial being, or just the sound of the entire album. “Radiate” blasts you with Hum-like intensity and an intense tale of an astronaut fleeing a burning, crumbling ship in one last ditch effort to leap from his craft to a space station and hope his oxygen doesn’t run out before he can reach it. “Ganymede” is a story of how the future, or even distant moons, aren’t far enough to escape heartbreak (“Thirteen was the number of the airlock where you left me…Now I’m broken and still frozen on this ice moon where you left me.”).
“Heaven’s Gate” is indeed about the doomed cult of the same name, but not about its ideals. It’s about how those people wanted to find something in the stars that they were missing on Earth…even though it was around them the entire time. The thick bass line Rouse plays on it is a good touch. “Desperate Measures” has two lovers on opposite sides of space taking great risks to reunite. This theme of longing for connection is prevalent on the whole record, and Rouse has said how “…relationships, both human and spiritual, are at the center of everything.”
“Receiving Hertz” has Rouse (Who, by the way, plays everything on this record.) singing about wishing for a human connection across vast distances as he gets “signals from a distant light. Receiving hertz, but still out of sight.” Rouse’s guitar work on “Selenite” has so many layers to it that it feels like he’s terraforming a landscape with it. The title track, which ends the album, has Rouse leaving on his journey into the stars to search “…for purpose and meaning, but the space goes on and on. Tranquil horizons deceiving.” He thinks he’ll be alone, and he might be right, but he also knows he has to make the launch.
We all do at some point, be it into adulthood, parenthood, a new job, a new relationship, a move across the country or the cosmos. We’re all seeking connection here on Earth and even across our galaxy. It’s the eternal quest, and The Quality of Mercury invites us to take it.
I don’t know how two people – Guillaume – guitar and Romauld – drums of Birds of Nazca can make so much sound, but they do it on their new album Pangaea…which is somehow heavier than their last (Héliolite).
As you can guess by the album’s cover, it blends desert and cosmic rock and has gravity-defying and / or crushing riffs throughout it. The theme of the album is that each track refers to and is inspired by a different place, landscape, or (I suspect) energy vortex of the Earth.
Beginning with “Batagaïka” (the name of the infamous melting permafrost crater in Siberia), BON explore a place on Earth and in our minds that is withering away to expose things we’ve long buried or have been hidden. Guillaume’s multi-layered guitar chords are like a giant stretching after a long slumber while Romauld harness the sound of cracking firmament.
“Gang Rinpoché,” also known as Mount Kailash” in China, is one of the tallest mountains in the world and perhaps the one with the most spiritual significance to at least three different religions: Buddhism, Hinduism, and Jainism. The mountain is believed to be the connection between heaven and earth and no one has ever reached its summit. Climbing it is strictly forbidden by the Chinese government and anyone who has tried has failed. That doesn’t stop BON from creating a mountain-heavy track dedicated to it and its mystery, however.
“Racetrack Playa” is in Death Valley, California. It’s a dry lake bed where rocks can move during the winter (thanks to ice and wind) for several, if not dozens, of meters and leave “racetracks” in the land. Appropriately, BON stomps the gas pedal and takes off across the salty flats while it sounds like they’re being chased by a post-apocalyptic biker gang armed with chainsaws.
We next travel to Russia and near the Ural Mountains to see “Man Pupu Nyor” (“Little Mountain of the Gods”) – the weird and somewhat spooky rock formations that might be warriors frozen in time. BON makes it feel like those huge warriors are breaking free of their rocky tombs and knocking the rust off their axes in preparation for battle.
The birds fly over to South America and the Andes Mountains for a visit to “Incahuasi” – a mountain that borders Argentina and Chile. I don’t recommend playing this if you’re ascending it. You might cause an avalanche because Romauld’s drums alone sometimes sound like tons of ice roaring toward you.
The album ends with the title track (which itself ends in birdsong) – a reference to the “supercontinent” that existed over 200 million years ago and consisted of most of the land masses we know today. It’s mind-blowing to consider how (relatively) close all the places BON have named on this album used to be to each other until great cataclysms divided them.
It’s the same with people, and I think that’s the underlying message of the album. We all used to be neighbors. We all had sacred connections to spaces and knew Mother Nature could crush us in an instant, so we had to take care of her. We still do. We still can. Put on this album and get to work.
I couldn’t think of a better way to kick off the first full day of Levitation 2025 than a slow-motion sword fight between a Rat Queen and a rat skull-headed incarnation of Death over a book containing countless souls.
That’s how Day One of the festival started in its new home — the Palmer Event Center. The new space is impressive. The interior stage is in a massive cave-like room with 360-degrees of projections to keep you tripping all day if you’d like. Oliver Ackermann of A Place to Bury Strangers described it to me as “amazing,” and I think he and his bandmates (still a bit bleary-eyed from their recent South American tour) are eager to blast the place on Day Three.
First to blast it, and setting a high bar for the rest of the bands to come for the rest of the festival, were a band consisting of a vampire, a druid, a plague doctor, and a warrior queen.
Castle Rat came out to an exuberant crowd as the voice of a distant wizard told us they had been given the task of protecting The Bestiary — a book of souls they must protect at all costs from evil forces. As a friend put it, “Listening to them is like opening your Dungeons & DragonsPlayer’s Handbook for the first time.” They proceeded to flatten the place, ending their too short forty-minute time slot with the aforementioned sword fight.
Castle Rat versus Death.
The line for Castle Rat’s merch was at least twenty minutes long for hours after their set. I later met their drummer, The Druid, and told him my friend’s description of their music. He laughed and said, “Yes! That’s exactly what we’re going for.”
Now is forever in this realm!
The exterior stage is in a smaller space, and set up facing south with the unintended result of having many of the bands (depending on their set time) staring into the afternoon sun. One such band was Skloss, who’d just returned from a tour in Scotland and had become unaccustomed to such bright sunlight. Guitarist SandyCarson had trouble seeing his foot pedal board a couple times, resulting in what drummer / singer Karen Skloss called “the Skloss experimental set” by the end. Regardless of the pedal trouble, they still put on a loud, psychedelic show that blasted as hard as the sun.
Pizza for Skloss!The pattern speaks.
I had to get some hydration and calories by this point, so I missed the opening of Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol‘s set, but got there in time for a lot of solid rockers such as “Heel,” “1-800-EAT-SHIT,” and “I’m the Fucking Man.” They sounded great, even better when I saw them at Levitation last year at Stubb’s BBQ on a much bigger stage.
Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Whatever the Fuck
I had a little time to wander for a bit, checking out the various vendors there, and then got to see most of the set from Austin’s own The Sword — who played to a packed house indoors. Their set got a bit funky by the end, which I thought was great.
The Sword cutting through time and space.
I took a much-needed disco nap back at the hotel after their set, and it was almost too good of a break. I woke up groggy and debated not going downtown to see the late night show for which I’d purchased a ticket a while ago. I decided to go outside, get some fresh air, and make the decision. It turned out to be a good one.
I didn’t get to Elysium in time to see Austin drag star Louisanna Purchase perform, but did get there for the last half of Auragraph‘s drum and bass set that had the place bumping. Much like the Boy Harsher show the previous night, the goth and queer crowd was out in force here — which is always great to see.
Auragraph dropping science.
Pixel Grip was playing down a man with synth player Jonathon Freund not being able to make the show, but pre-programmed loops and chords keyed up by drummer Tyler Ommen worked just fine and singer Rita Lukea commanded the stage and the jam-packed crowd. They had the floors shaking multiple times. It was a wild end to a wild day.
Pixel Grip showing us their stamina.
Up next for Day Two…post-punk, disco, and a DJ set from my favorite band.
Mdou Moctar‘s most recent album, Funeral for Justice, was recorded after two years of touring with his band, hearing music from all over the world, and seeing injustices across the world. This all lit a fire under the band, resulting in a record that’s a mixture of Tuareg rock, psychedelia, and punk rage.
The opening title track wastes no time, bringing in Thin Lizzy-heavy riffs and then snappy, sizzling drums. “Imouhar” crushes on all levels. Moctar’s guitar burns hotter than the fires on the album’s cover, and his three-piece band is so locked in that even the Incredible Hulk couldn’t shake them loose. “Takoba” is excellent Tuareg desert-psych with percussion made for long walks across hot dunes.
Speaking of hot things, the opening guitar on “Sousoume Tamacheq” is like a flare going off to signal danger ahead. “Imajighen” pumps the brakes a bit, but still keeps you rolling at a smooth pace as a warm breeze moves over you. The vocals on “Tchinta,” particularly on the chorus, seem like praise, but might be cries of injustice (considering the theme of the album). Moctar’s closing solo on it is stunning.
“Oh France” has some of the wildest drumming on the record. It sounds like it’s being played by two people in a giant cavern with a secret temple in it. The album ends with the mind-altering “Modern Slaves,” a song about how slavery, somehow, still exists in this world and how many of us willingly become slaves to multiple masters.
Funeral for Justice feels like Moctar’s fiercest album to date. Use with caution. It might set your house on fire.
You might think Acid Rooster‘s Hall of Mirrors album was an EP by looking at the track listing, as it’s only four songs, but the shortest one is nearly six minutes in length.
Those four songs are are excellent cosmic rock tracks perfect for either tripping out inside the album’s namesake at your local county fair or surfing around the universe as a herald of Galactus. “Automat” (the five-minute-fifty-second song) has Joe Satriani-like riffs from Sebastian Väth and enough psychedelic synths from Maximilian Leicht to melt your mind and then reform it into something capable of clairvoyance. “Chandelier Arp” first sounds like the pulse and happy sighs of an android receiving a massage in zero gravity. Then, Steffen Schmidt comes in on drums and the android starts some form of astral projection or perhaps a digital upload to some giant connected mind. Leicht’s saxophone work on this put you in orbit about an emerging white sun.
“Confidence of Ignorance” brings in Middle Eastern desert rock flavor, which is fine by me. The sound takes on a heavier tone and reminds you of scantily clad, scimitar-wielding maidens emerging from the desert to either cut you down, cast spells on you, or both. “When Clouds Part” beautifully ends Side B with a gentle float back down to Earth, nicely landing us on a warm, green cliff overlooking the ocean.
Did I mention it’s an instrumental album? It’s a trip-tastic bit of space rock that you’ll want for times you need to float away for a bit.
I discovered Vuelveteloca at the 2017 Levitation Music Festival where they played a great show at the now long-gone Barracuda club. I hadn’t heard them before then, but their Chilean version of metal, psych, krautrock, and stoner metal was something to behold. I snagged their Sonora album from their merch table…and it got lost in a stack of CDs in my office for years. It’s a shame I’m finally getting around to reviewing it eight years later, because it’s a slick record.
First, you should know that the band’s name translates as “Go crazy.” in English. That lets you know what you’re in for with this record. It’s a fitting name.
The album’s title translates as “Sonorous” – which implies something deep and powerful. Opening track, “La Niebla” (“The Fog”), stomps the gas pedal to the floor and charges through the titular weather with reckless abandon. The brief moment of coasting (around the 3:30 mark) lets you feel the wind on your face for a bit before the guitars from Marcos De Iruarrizaga and Tomás Olivos come back to melt it.
“Alta Montaña” (“High Mountain”) displays their love of stoner metal and cosmic rock, as Juan Gili hammers out mantra-like beats to induce rhythmic head-nodding. “Ataque Masivo” isn’t necessarily a tribute to the band “Massive Attack,” but I wouldn’t be surprised if Massive Attack were an influence on them. The track has krautrock leanings, but also synth touches that lean it a bit in Massive Attack’s direction.
The fuzz returns in full force on “Carnaval,” sending us on a trippy journey down streets full of masked people who might have dark intentions. “L.A.” slows things down into 1960s psych-rock. It’s a neat change in tone from the heavy stuff that’s come before it as the song builds in power and volume. “El Lado Frio” (“The Cold Side”) takes that power and volume and uses it to cause your brain to swirl in your skull.
“Tormento” (“Torment”) is a song you’ll want to blast while competing in a demolition derby. “Chepical” dives back into krautrock, but adds soaring cosmic rock guitars to the mix. Ending with the interestingly titled “Cientologia & Altiplano” (“Scientology & Plateau”), the album uses Jose Navarrete‘s bass grooves to maximum effect and creates a great jam track with limited vocals and maximum head-trip riffs.
It’s a wild record, and one I slept on for too long. Don’t do the same.
I don’t know what’s in the water in Belgium and France as of late, but both countries are churning out good doom and stoner metal bands seemingly every month. Belgium’s trio of Mind Wolf is a good example, and their new EP, Chalet, is a great way to be introduced to them.
The opening riff of “Love without a Home” crushes you right away, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that they named the EP Chalet, start off the record with this track, and featured a pixelated image of a burning house on the cover. The song burns everything around it to the ground, bringing to mind some early Alice in Chains tracks.
The bass on “Like a Song” reminds me of some Royal Blood tunes as Mind Wolf speeds down the road and sings about how music can change the feel of anything around you. The short guitar solo on it is pretty slick, and the breakdown after is is pretty sick.
No, your ears aren’t deceiving you, the only lyrics of “Hanne Desmet” are, “She can do it. She can really, really, really ice skate.” That’s because it’s about Hanne Desmet – the Belgian short track skater who won a Bronze medal at the 2002 Winter Olympics in the Women’s 1000-meter event. She was the first Belgian woman to win a medal in any Winter Olympics event. Mind Wolf are apparently big fans of her and I hope she cranks this on her earbuds during practice.
“Just Don’t” is a brutal takedown of perhaps an ex-lover or some jerk the band met who tried to show them up at something, but they quickly figured out it was all “just a show.” The EP ends with “Seduction,” which has some of the wickedest beats on the record and grungy guitars from end to end.
Go visit this Chalet, but be careful it doesn’t scorch you.
When he’s not laying down epic cosmic rock guitar riffs with Comacozer, Rick Burke, otherwise known as Tropical Sludge, makes mind-altering psychedelic instrumental music that blends Eastern elements with rock sounds and even a bit of New Age styling on his newest record Astral Mind.
Starting with “Dreaming Shaman,” the album uses sitar and synths to elevate you off the ground right away. “Tranquility” blends ambient forest sounds with the sitar and tabla to the point where you start to think, “This would make a really good make-out record.”
Burke uses simple, repetitive guitar notes on “Flowers” to put you into a nice trance. I seem to hear native Aboriginal Australian instruments in “Witchcraft,” which wouldn’t surprise me at all since Burke is from Oz. Burke’s use of sampled dialogue on the track (and others) that’s sometimes difficult to decipher is a neat effect, making you wonder what’s being discussed but not worrying about it at the same time. The voices become other natural sounds emerging from and blending into the musical land / sky / sea / space-scape he’s created.
“Digital Hippy” is appropriately hazy and groovy (listen carefully for that 70s funk bass). “Zen Tribe” practically pulls up next to you on a hand-poled river boat and offers you the opportunity to glide across the water and forget everything on shore that was weighing on you. “Hypnotising the Serpent” takes us further down the river and then across the sky instead of over the waterfall.
This album might indeed take your mind to the astral plane. It’s worth the trip.
