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.
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 was delighted to get an e-mail from Guillame (guitar) and Romauld (drums) of Birds of Nazca from Nantes, France wondering if I might like to hear their new stoner / doom / heavy psych EP Héliote. Um…Yeah!
After a brief intro, we’re smacked in the face with the rolling, rumbling, rocking “Inti Raymi” – which has you wondering how just two people can put out so much heavy sound. “Spheniscus” calms the guitars a bit, but it’s a bit of a feint as the track builds to a pulse-quickening space rock jam about two minutes into it. Soon, it’s like flying a spacecraft through the rings of Saturn like you’ve been doing it for years. The EP ends with “Gucumatz,” spanning over nine minutes and taking you beyond Saturn with its expansive guitar chords and low gravity drums.
This is all in just three songs. It makes you wonder what kind of cosmic power they could unleash in a full album. Let’s hope they do soon.
Keep your mind open.
[Fly over to the subscription box while you’re here.]
