Day Three of the Spring 2022 Quarterly Review — commence! As you well know because I’m quite certain you’re the type of person to sit around and think about these things and I’m in no way the only human who gives enough of a crap to notice, today we hit the halfway point of this particular QR, not in the middle, but at the end, as today will culminate with review number 30 of the total 60 to come by the end of the day next Monday. Is it cheating to get a full weekend to do the last installment? Depends entirely on the weekend. In any case, starting tomorrow we go downhill, numerically, not in terms of the quality of what’s covered.
Until then.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
Ruby the Hatchet, Live at Earthquaker
While on tour with Kadavar in late-2019, New Jersey heavy psych rockers Ruby the Hatchet swung through Earthquaker Devices in Ohio and put these three songs to tape. In addition to being the band’s first release for Magnetic Eye Records, the EP serves these years after the fact as a still-foreshadowing glimpse at their next full-length, the follow-up to 2017’s Planetary Space Child (review here), which but for plague probably would be on its third pressing by now. At least it would be if the rolling riffs and organ shimmer of “1,000 Years” and the bluesier what-I’ll-just-assume-is-an-homage-to-the-band-of-the-same-name “Primitive Man” are anything to go by. Paired with Ruby the Hatchet‘s take on Uriah Heep‘s “Easy Livin’,” the new songs herald the awaited album in a way that seems to justify their having been kept in-pocket for just the right moment. I’m glad that moment is now, and I also kind of feel like Ruby the Hatchet need to start recording more shows and putting out their own soundboard bootlegs. This is clearly mixed, pro-mastered and all that, but still. They make every second of these 14 minutes count.
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Wyatt E., āl bēlūti dārû
Anonymous Belgian outfit Wyatt E. return five years after their debut with āl bēlūti dārû, comprising two tracks of all-in Mesopotamian-themed drone ritualizing. The robed outfit top 18 minutes with “Mušhuššu” and “Šarru Rabu” both, and their intention toward immersing the audience in a whole-side experience isn’t misplaced as their arrangements branch beyond genre typicality in service of the Middle Easternism around which much of what they do is based. More than cinematically wrought, the two pieces here are striking in moving from the crescendos of their respective builds into richly conjured explorations, the former of saz and other instruments, the latter of percussion and voice. Likewise, with two drumkits, they want nothing for rhythmic urgency, despite the open structures of the actual material. One wonders at the Orientalism on display throughout as potentially a kind of minstrelsy, particularly with the hooded unknown figures casting themselves as decidedly ‘other’ from a European mainstream, but the same anonymity guards against the notion since it’s unclear just who these people are. I’m not sure I’m all the way on board, but they effectively convey spectacle without losing artistic presence. And if you spend the rest of your day reading about the Akkadian Empire, I’m sure worse things have happened.
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Famyne, II: The Ground Below
My impression of Canterbury, UK, doomers Famyne‘s 2016 self-titled debut (review here) were of a band burgeoning in atmosphere anchored by strong songwriting and melodic vocals with periodic likeness to Alice in Chains and The Wounded Kings. Arriving through Svart Records, the eight-song/45-minute II: The Ground Below doesn’t do much to detract from that core impression, but the ambient “A Submarine” and the mean chug in the back half of the later “The Ai” take them to new places and demonstrate the individualization of genre tropes underway in their sound. “Once More” taps a more NWOBHM style, while “Babylon” touches on Candlemassian grandiosity, and “Gone” fluidly begins to transition from the crush of opening duo “Defeated” and “Solid Earth” before “A Submarine” takes hold, which is only further evidence they know what they’re doing.
LINK
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Humanotone, A Flourishing Fall in a Grain of Sand
Evidently a number of years in the making from front-to-back, Humanotone‘s second full-length, A Flourishing Fall in a Grain of Sand, finds the solo-project spearheaded by Jorge Cisternas Monsalves, aka Jorge Cist, working once more completely on his own save for some saxophone on 12-minute closer “Even Though.” Given the lush, progressive, and thoughtful execution of progressive heavy rock the Chile-based Cist manifests throughout cuts like “Light Antilogies” and “Ephemeral” prior — taking lessons from Elder‘s Dead Roots Stirring and applying them well for his own purposes — it wouldn’t have been surprising if he picked up the sax himself, frankly. He proves visionary throughout the proceedings one way or the other, and atop a bed of his own drumming is able to cast deep landscapes of keys and guitar and bass in “A Flourishing Fall” and a build and payoff in “Scrolls for the Blind” before the 3:45 “Beyond the Machine” goes straightforward in a way that feels like a gift ahead of the closer, while still retaining its proggy vibe vocally, melodically and rhythmically. There’s been some word-of-mouth hype around this one. Not unwarranted.
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Madmess, Rebirth
Big on vibe, crunches when it wants, spaces out with broader jams, takes its time, flows as it will but still hits with an impact — yeah, there’s no shortage of things to like about Madmess‘ Hassle Records-issued second full-length, Rebirth. If you, yourself, have been born-again semi-instrumentalist psych-prog, then no doubt you’ll relate to the careening and twisting path that the five mostly-extended tracks take, unfolding with a focus on liquefied echo on “Albatross” before the companioning “Mind Collapse” introduces the vocals that will show up again on closer “Stargazer” (not a Rainbow cover). Between those two, the title-cut and “Shapeshifter” back-to-back build on some of the mellower stretches prior at least before locking into their own heavier parts, but by then you’re long since hypnotized anyway, and the drift that serves to transition into “Stargazer” is only pushing further out as it goes. I’m not sure who in the Portugese trio (if anyone) is the vocalist, but the voice suits the songs well, even if they’re plainly comfortable going without, and reasonably so.
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Eaters of the Soil, EP II
Mostly instrumental, the aptly-titled EP II — the second short release from Utrecht, the Netherlands, trombone-inclusive experimentalist doomers Eaters of the Soil — runs four tracks and 35 minutes and, early on, uses spoken samples from this or that serial killer about putting plastic bags over women’s heads to suffocate them. Through “V – Point of Capture” and even into “VI – Untouched, Unspoken To” (the Roman numeral numbering system continued from their pandemic-minded 2021 first EP), a somewhat slowed down version of whoever it is goes on about killing women and this and that. The second half of the release with “VII – Burrowing, Feasting” and “VIII – Subcurrent,” are both dark enough to be considered affected by the same atmosphere — “VI – Untouched, Unspoken To” has a bit of float to it, so it’s not all grim — churning, meandering and freaking out in at-least-partially improv-jazz style, but Eaters of the Soil cast a grim vision of humanity and that impression stays resonant even as “VIII – Subcurrent” lumbers into its wash of a finish. Is extreme jazz a thing? Turns out maybe.
Eaters of the Soil on Facebook
Forbidden Place Records website
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NYOS, Celebration
With its just-slightly-off-beat drum loop, “Light” seems to build into a wash until even the song can’t take anymore and needs to drop out. It’s not the first take on NYOS‘ second offering for Pelagic Records, Celebration — that would be the improvised opener “First Take” — but it and the serene hum that emerges in the subsequent “Something Good” and even the shimming almost steel-drum sounds of “Tucano” demonstrate the Finland-based instrumentalist duo’s stated intentions toward dance music. The later “Gold Vulcan,” the first single, gets into some noisier fare as if to remind that guitarist Tom Brooke (also recording) and drummer Tuomas Kainulainen are coming from a harder-hitting place, but in the also-improv “Cloudberry” just before and particularly the willfully gorgeous “Rosario” (Dawson?) after, the intentions are gentler and more welcoming, and that continues into the final drone stretch and far, far back drumming that consumes most of closer “Surface” before it ultimately explodes in resonant light, reinforcing the notion of joy inherent in the album’s title, feeling like a grand finale to an aural fireworks display.
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Endtime, Impending Doom
Making their debut on Heavy Psych Sounds with Impending Doom, Sweden’s Endtime are not shy about their influence from horror cinema. Their sound blends sludge and classic doom together such that opener “Harbinger of Disease” comes through like Mike IX Williams of Eyehategod stepping in to front Cathedral, and his harsh wails echo out a tolling (for thee, make no mistake) bell to foretell the harsh terrors soon to unfold. “ICBM” kills quick and lets its church organ mourn later, and the centerpiece “They Live” (a classic) adjusts the balance such that the cinematic, post-Uncle Acid vibe comes to the front still with the barking vocals overtop; a blend I can’t think of anyone else pulling off as well as Endtime do. The longer “Cities on Fire with the Burning Flesh of Men” follows and is more purely about the crunch at least until the sitar shows up — a nice curve to throw — ahead of its severe closing section, and closer “Living Graves” wraps the 28-minute LP by pushing the organ forward again and dissolving into a wash of noise before the feed seems to cut out like channel 11 just stopped broadcasting in the middle of the night. Hey man, I was watching that. Not quite revolutionary, but onto something. Impending, if you will.
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Bloodshot Buffalo, Light EP
By my count, Bloodshot Buffalo — the solo-project of Santa Rosa, California’s Sheafer McOmber — has put out no fewer than four full-lengths since 2019. Accordingly, the two-song Light EP is most likely a stopgap en route to the next one, but “Light” and “Don’t Follow Me” make an enticing sampler of the band’s wares all the same, digging into an energetic heavy progressive rock like a less-low-end-focused Forming the Void in the title-track as McOmber carefully weaves in a multi-layered guitar solo panning channels from one to the other and “Don’t Follow Me” reaffirms the groove on which that happens while sorting out its own languid flow. The shorter of the two, “Don’t Follow Me” doesn’t feature the same kind of midsection break as “Light” itself, and once it heads out, it doesn’t come back, unlike “Light,” which returns to the hook at the finish. Some structural play as enticement to dig further into the Bloodshot Buffalo catalog while waiting for the seemingly inevitable next thing. This being my first exposure to McOmber‘s work, I hope to do exactly that.
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Oh Hiroshima, Myriad
Swedish now-duo Oh Hiroshima present their fourth album, Myriad, as a collection of weighted, spacious and emotive contemplations. Their heavy post-rock is stylized to be patient and broad-reaching, and in pieces like “All Things Pass” and “Veil of Certainty” early on, they find a niche for themselves between harder-hitting atmospheric material marked out by droning horn arrangements and more straight-ahead melodic verses, the ambience open enough to pull the focus away from underlying structures. It’s an immersive-if-somewhat-familiar modern take, but the two-piece of guitarist/bassist/vocalist Jakob Hemström and drummer Oskar Nilsson stem into moodier vibes on “Tundra” and closer “Hidden Chamber” takes a less effects-centered, more organic-sounding approach, emphasizing the strings for its build while staying earthbound in the drums, bass and guitars beneath. Some will pass Myriad up entirely, others will worship its depth. Either way, the pair seem like they’ll keep moving forward in their well-crafted, considered approach.
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