THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
A one line review is all we need here, and in fact, that one line could be used just to explain that we only got 30, that's all we're getting, and have already sold at least a third of those before we even had a chance to list this, so act fast ! And oh yeah, the review? This here's a split 7" featuring local psych sensations Wooden Shjips on one side (Spacemen 3 cover "I Believe It"), and a rare track from psych drone legends Spacemen 3 ("Big City", unreleased alternate demo version) on the other. About all you need to know...
ONE PER CUSTOMER!!!!! ----* ----* In Stock, Not Yet Reviewed : ----* If you want to order one of these, just search for the item, then click on the buy button and it will be added to your cart! AGUAYO, MATIAS "Ay Ay Ay" (Kompakt) cd 15.98 ANTI-POP CONSORTIUM "Fluorescent Black" (Big Dada) cd/2lp 15.98/23.00 ANVIL CHORUS "The Killing Sun" (Rockadrome) cd 12.98 APHRODITE'S CHILD "End Of The World" (World Psychedelia Ltd.) cd 17.98 ARCKANUM "PPPPPPPPPPP" (Moribund) cd 16.98 BARONESS "Blue Record" (Relapse) 2cd 15.98 BIGOT, FRED "Mono-Stereo" (Holy Mountain) cd 13.98 BLACK BREATH "Razor to Oblivion" (Southern Lord) cd 12.98 BRAINSTORM "Smile A While" (Lion Productions) cd 14.98 CAETHUA "The Long Afternoon Of Earth" (Preservation) 2cd 19.98 CASPA "Everybody's Talking, Nobody's Listening!" 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Amazingly alchemic guitar compositions in the primitive / wooden / post-Appalachia vein. Lovely.
Who better to spin a metallic tale of terror concerning a pair of female vampires and their Countess Bathory-like demonically possessed adversary, than Wooden Stake - sludgy, female-fronted horror fiends extraordinaire? This boy-girl duo (new boy this time, same girl) disgorge the doomed-out death-and-roll riffery, with bassist/vocalist Vanessa Nocera again providing a sinister showcase of morose melodic singing counterpointed with chaotic cackle and full-on guttural death metal vokills. She's both as witchy and as wretched as she wants to be across such ghastly chapters in this vampiric concept album as "Cross-Scalded Flesh" and "Curse Of The Cauldron Countess". Think Jex Thoth meets Obituary on a King Diamond kick.
As we've said before, regular aQuarius shoppers should know what to expect from Wooden Stake: female fronted, horror fixated, riff rituals of slomo sludge, that are part Black Sabbath, part Jex Thoth, part Obituary. The first thing we ever listed by 'em, a limited cd-r entitled Vampire Plague Exorcism, proved quite popular, and is now totally out of print. But, now you'll find those tracks again here, on this new compact disc which collects that 2010 debut together with a bunch of other rare, out-of-print recordings (an unlucky 13 cuts in all) from this cult doom/death duo (one boy, one girl, all ghoulish).
Here's what we said about Vampire Plague Exorcism (tracks 9-13 here), which pretty much sums up the entire Wooden Stake ouvre:
So it's beginning to seem like it's a happening new quasi genre of sorts, this "doomy, black magic metal band with witchy sounding female frontperson" thing. There's Jex Thoth, and The Devil's Blood, and Blood Ceremony... and now Wooden Stake, an extremely doomy duo who've seen more horror movies than you have, featuring Vanessa Nocera on vocals and bass, with Wayne "Elektrokutioner" Sarantopoulos handling the guitars, keyboards, and drums. Like the other abovementioned bands, Wooden Stake is Sabbathy and '70s, with lumbering riffs and an occult vibe, though the difference is that they come from more of a death metal background, and are thus a lot darker and creepier. Electrokutioner is in a bunch of other doomed-out death metal bands we like, among 'em Decrepitaph, Scaremaker, and Encoffination; Vanessa is also in Scaremaker, and just joined Skeletal Spectre. So the guitars are not just thick but EVIL, the plodding drumming has a caveman wallop, and Vanessa's spooky siren song singing style sometimes switches to guttural growls. Imagine Jex Thoth wearing an Incantation t-shirt. Very underground sounding for sure, underground as in "from the grave".
But, say you've got V.P.E. already. Besides the upgrade to an actual cd, what else do you get here? Plenty. In fact, everything, almost, apart from last year's full-length Dungeon Prayers And Tombyard Serenades. There's the 2 cuts from the Black Caped Carnivore 7" (about which we said, that the title track was perhaps the best we'd yet heard from 'em), 2 more from an earlier 7" we never got (Invoke The Ageless Witch), their song from a split 7" with Druid Lord, and for completeness' sake (since it's actually still available), the 2 tracks from their great split cd with Blizaro. You might have some of this stuff, but we didn't even have it all... And also there's one previously unreleased song, "Night Of The Banshee"! So, definitely an essential collection for Wooden Stake fans who might have missed out on any of those limited edition releases, or alternately a fine place to start becoming a Wooden Stake fan if you're into the idea of checking out their brand of heavy & haunting metal, bewitched and brutal... The cd's booklet includes full lyrics, thumbnail cover graphics from all the featured releases, and a pair of b&w pictures of the two bandmembers (in which you'll see Wayne proudly brandishing a truly horrific, eldritch looking guitar, something like a Lovecraftian flying-V, all melted and monstrous).
The grim and ghoulish doom/death duo of Wayne (aka Elektrokutioner) and Vanessa (aka the Funeral Mistress??) are back with a seven inch slab of thick black vinyl to stab thru yr ears... well ok, it's plastic and not pointy, but does the job Wooden Stake style regardless. After their (now totally out of print) debut cd-r Vampire Plague Exorcism, and more recent split cd with AQ faves Blizaro, maybe you know what to expect from Wooden Stake: female fronted, horror fixated, riff rituals of slomo sludge, that are part Black Sabbath, part Jex Thoth, part Obituary... they deliver all that here, with the A-side alone being one of their best songs we've heard yet.
Real soon we'll also have WS's debut full length cd, the awesomely titled Dungeon Prayers & Tombyard Serenades, so watch out!!
In the meantime, grab this two song 7", it's limited to 500 hand-numbered copies....
Now, our appetites fully whetted by their debut out of print cd-r ep, their more recent split cd with Blizaro, and their 7" single reviewed last list, here at last is the first full-length from the ultra-cult (cultra?) Wooden Stake, one of the only boy-girl doom-death duos around, and in any case our fave, as the most "extreme metal" example of the female-fronted occult rock mini-phenomenon happenin' now, a la Jex Thoth, Blood Ceremony, The Devil's Blood, etc.
We've described 'em as playing "slomo sludge", that's "part Black Sabbath, part Jex Thoth, part Obituary" and that's still just about right. Yeah, imagine Jex Thoth occasionally channelling her inner Cookie Monster, that'd be Wooden Stake's Vanessa Nocera. She's the wicked, witchy woman on vocals and bass, while Wayne "Elektrokutioner" Sarantopoulos (also of Decrepitaph, Encoffination, Father Befouled, etc.) handles the guitar and drums, and would slay you in a staring contest, no doubt, to judge from his picture here.
Their music is scary stuff, too, and also wonderfully underground, old-school, and horror-kitschy. The album opens with "Cadaverum Caecorum Liber", yet another of metal's tributes to the Blind Dead movies, from '70s Spain. Nocera first intones the lyrics in spoken rather than sung style, double tracked, over a quietly gloomy guitar backing, lulling and almost lovely, before busting out some raspier vokills (and she'll have you know, by the way, that no effects were used on her voice anywhere on this album). The next track, "Salem, 1692", showcases her more melodic siren song style of singing, that's where the Jex Thoth comparisons come in (and we're also thinking Bliss Blood, a bit). But her throat-shredding deathlier vocals are also employed for contrast. Musically, the gloominess of course continues, lo-fi rumbling riff repetition that's a doomic delight, grinding down down down into the ground. And so it goes, the many moods of Wooden Stake (gloomy, gloomier, gloomiest) highlighted by the multitracking of Nocera's varied vocal personas - she's a one-woman coven, indeed.
All nine of the Dungeon Prayers and Tombyard Serenades found here hit the spot for us, this album never lacking for eldritch atmosphere, whether conveyed by quiet creepiness or loud riffiness. Ferinstance, behold the instrumental interlude "Cemetery Closes At Sundown", a gentle somber solo, leading into the lumbering lurch-out of "Skullcoven", a composition combining bashing brutality with sloppy psychedelic Sabbathry. Which would describe a lot of this record, really. Electric Wizard fans, here's a witchier witchcult for you!
Well, hopefully we've already convinced you in previous reviews to worship Wooden Stake, and like us, you were just waiting for this to come out. But if you haven't yet been initiated, appropriate attention to this album under certain conditions (by the light of the full moon, in a graveyard) ought to do the trick...of course, that's right where it puts you, anyway.
So it's beginning to seem like it's a happening new quasi genre of sorts, this "doomy, black magic metal band with witchy sounding female frontperson" thing. There's Jex Thoth, and The Devil's Blood, and Blood Ceremony... and now Wooden Stake, an extremely doomy duo who've seen more horror movies than you have, featuring Vanessa Nocera on vocals and bass, with Wayne "Elektrokutioner" Sarantopoulos handling the guitars, keyboards, and drums.
Like the other abovementioned bands, Wooden Stake is Sabbathy and '70s, with lumbering riffs and an occult vibe, though the difference is that they come from more of a death metal background, and are thus a lot darker and creepier. Electrokutioner is in a bunch of other doomed-out death metal bands we like, among 'em Decrepitaph, Scaremaker, and Encoffination, the latter of which is also highlighted this list; Vanessa is also in Scaremaker, and just joined Skeletal Spectre. So the guitars are not just thick but EVIL, the plodding drumming has a caveman wallop, and Vanessa's spooky siren song singing style sometimes switches to guttural growls. Imagine Jex Thoth wearing an Incantation t-shirt. Very underground sounding for sure, underground as in "from the grave". So underground in fact that we didn't even think we'd ever get to list this, their debut 5-track ep, as it was limited to a mere 100 copies, and sold out before we could get any. But fortunately Hexamorphosis Productions (a sub label of old school death metal purveyors Razorback by the way) decided to have another handful of these pro-printed cdr-s pressed up, so now we have them, for the moment, at least.
If you miss out, though (and also if you don't), be aware there's a less limited, upcoming full length to look forward too, and also a split release they'll soon be doing with recent AQ Record Of The Weekers BLIZARO!
Well, heck this is a no-brainer, gotta be stoked by this, considering that we highlighted Wooden Stake's debut ep Vampire Plague Exorcism last list, and made Blizaro's recent full-length City Of The Living Nightmare a Record Of The Week not long before that too! Obviously, eagerly awaited, so Hail Satan it's here already - the split release that sees these horror lovin' lunatics together on one cd with exclusive new material. First up, there's the deathly, doomed-out duo Wooden Stake, one of the heaviest and gnarliest of the current wave of female fronted "occult rock" acts a la Jex Thoth and The Devil's Blood; followed by (mostly) one-man band Blizaro, who continues to channel the sinister soundtracks of Italian giallo film through a psychedelic, DIY doom metal prism. Totaling five songs, 43 minutes (two tracks, 14'44" of Wooden Stake; three tracks, 27'53" of Blizaro) this disc is a delirious dose of underground doom weirdness indeed.
Wooden Stake gallop into view with "Death Reads The Black Tarot", Vanessa Nocera's witchy wail leading the charge, somberly supported by the rumbling riffage and bashing battery of Wayne Sarantopoulos (aka drummer Elektrokutioner, of Decrepitaph, Father Befouled, and Encoffination infamy, among others). Their other offering, "The Legend Of Blood Castle" is equally grim and gruesome, the Blood Castle practically coagulating around your ears as you listen to its legend...
Then the balance of the disc is given over to the bizarre progged-out rites of Blizaro, conducted via copious quantities of lumbering bass heavy trudge, psychotic vox, and psychedelic six string freakout. The tracks "Night Fumes" and "Edgar's Blood" are both about one half maniac metal chuggery, one half ominous church organ atmospheres, with a bit more melody on the metal side of the equation with regards to the latter. And then Blizaro winds things up with the calm yet creepy synth soundscape, "Final Escape/Zombie Feast", a Moog-laden mood piece. Nice!
Limited edition release, never to be repressed, FYI.
There was a time, when we were getting in a new Wooden Wand record every week, for years it seemed like, and over the course of all those release, the sound of James Toth and his Wooden Wand gradually shifted, from ramshackle free psych and obtuse abstract folk, to something more singer/songwriter, culminating (for us at least) in the very Dylan-esque James & The Quiet, which for all its good qualities, seemed to not connect the way past records did.
Since then, there's been a few more records, but by then we had sort of given up, or if not given up, ceased to be all that interested.
But our curiosity was piqued with WW's return to Michael Gira's Young God label, with what was purported to be an actual proper country record. We were a bit skeptical, but wow, is this great, like Wooden Wand via Townes Van Zandt, TvZ being a particularly apt comparison for these songs, as they definitely owe much to him in terms of melody, arrangement and phrasing. "The Mountain" sounds like it could almost BE a Townes Van Zandt cover. But Toth definitely has found his muse, whether it's TvZ or not, these songs are gorgeously dark and bleak, simple and stripped down, but augmented with occasional female vox, whirring organs, little flurries of psychedelic shimmer, some of the songs are lush and expansive, but our heart belongs to the more intimate numbers, darkly skeletal and super intimate. There are still moments that remind us of Dylan, or Jandek, but once those are woven into the tapestry of Death Seat, they're a natural fit with the more melancholy country dirges and wistful twang flecked ballads. A fantastic surprise and a definite new favorite.
NOW ON VINYL! With bonus 7"
What we said about the cd version on Soft Abuse (also still in stock btw):
The onslaught of Wooden Wand (And The Vanishing Hand) releases continues with this solo release from the group's ringleader Wooden Wand Jehovah. Generally more conventional sounding than the full band's recently reissued Xiao album, Harem Of The Sundrum & The Witness Figg does gets a bit more trippy as it progresses. He sings these nine hushed rustic folk songs in a gentle gruff voice. If you've dug the recently reissued Gary Higgins Red Hash cd, you might wanna check out Wooden Wand 'cause we played them back to back and we found that they segued beautifully. Recommended.
It seems James Toth is distancing himself more and more from his free-dirge forest folk group, the Vanishing Voice and settling deeper into full-blown singer-songwriter mode. Channeling Dylan even further than last years Second Attention, he enlists the help of Sonic Youth's Lee Ranaldo (who also produces) and Steve Shelley to round out the mostly acoustic band along with his wife, Jessica Toth who provides vocal accompaniment. Less compelling than Second Attention, the spare arrangements only serve to emphasize Toth's affected vocal style which mimics later Dylan but also comes dangerously close to Phil Ochs' more cringe-worthy folk-isms with pseudo-visionary lyrics that miss more than they hit. With such high profile talent present, we wish it was much better showcased. Alas.
James Toth (aka Wooden Wand) goes into full Dylan mode on this, their one millionth release (or thereabouts, but really, who can keep track?). Switching backing bands from the Vanishing Voice to The Sky High Band, Toth loses the foresty clatter and freeform ramshackle for a more structured song-based folk album and the results are surprisingly refreshing. Sounding like New Morning or Blood On the Tracks era Bob Dylan right down to nasally vocals and harmonica flourishes on a few numbers, the songs on Second Attention are well written and the best crafted songs we have heard from this camp in a long time.
Okay, so did we warn you a couple of lists ago or what about an imminent abundance of Wooden Wand releases?! It's already become pretty much impossible to fully digest one of their cds or lps before another one sprouts up, but don't get all stressed out trying to keep pace. That's not the way this music should be experienced. We recommend that you kick back, drift off, and take your own sweet time enjoying each serving of their delirious, obtuse folk stylings... heck, there'll be plenty more waiting for you when you're done. With the WW releases we've heard thus far, we've noticed a stylistic pattern -- their more traditionally shaped solitary folk songs contrasted with their hazy, meadering ensemble journeys. Buck Dharma falls in with the latter. It evokes a similar air of mysticism and mystery as Rever by AQ fave Larsen. They too seems deeply inspired by Michael Gira and Swans -- the female vocals in particular recall those of Jarboe -- but have chosen a more laidback meandering approach to their music. Along with the vocals, this WW release is distinguished by some Hendrix-y electric guitar noodling, gently clattering and rattling percussion. Of all the WW releases we've carried to date, it's definitely received the warmest response from the broadest spectrum of folks. Recommended!
Don't know about you, but when we hear saxophone from a band that is not usually associated with jazz, we cringe a little. We know there are plenty of excellent uses of saxophone on non-jazz related records (Van Der Graaf Generator, Gong, and Terry Riley come immediately to mind), but when the first song on a CD begins with lone saxophone, We just don't expect good things. So what to say about this new WW&VV recording, the latest in a flurry of releases, (their second on 5RC), that keep getting weirder and weirder? Don't rely too hard on first impressions. Especially when the saxophonist is Daniel Carter, outstanding free jazz alumnus and member of the Other Dimensions in Music collective. This is not to say Gypsy Freedom is a jazz record, but rather WW&VV this time around weave some Sun Ra-style free jazz dynamics into its already expansive and wandering palate of clattering rhythms, sad mountain ballads, witchy tribal dirges, and twee space folk psych jams, mixing both instrumental psych excursions with more structured vocal based songs. There's definitely an interesting dark forest vibe here, not so much of the communal drum circle variety but more akin to the feeling of watching The Wicker Man on Special K. But like most WW&VV releases, their experimentation can get so random that they sometimes misfire. Yet, this is only a minor complaint for a band that makes challenging and creative music that is of nature and against nature at the same time. CD includes a DVD of "Don't Love the Liar", the closest WW&VV get to a rock number.
First in the series of live documents from a 2005 tour, made shortly after recording Gypsy Freedom. This one titled, "Born Free" is 40 minutes of psychedelic musings and mystic ramblings creating a mildly whirling cacophony of half-uttered voices, bells and shambling rhythms. Sustaining this feel without too much shift in dynamics, this set is more ghostly than freaky, but still a good introduction to their unique sound and how it is manifested in a live setting.
The onslaught of Wooden Wand (And The Vanishing Hand) releases continues with this solo release from the group's ringleader Wooden Wand Jehovah. Generally more conventional sounding than the full band's recently reissued Xiao album, Harem Of The Sundrum & The Witness Figg does gets a bit more trippy as it progresses. He sings these nine hushed rustic folk songs in a gentle gruff voice. If you've dug the recently reissued Gary Higgins Red Hash cd, you might wanna check out Wooden Wand 'cause we played them back to back and we found that they segued beautifully. Recommended.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
It seems like not a week goes by without a new Wooden Wand release making its unorthodox folk presence felt. Up until now it's all been of the audio variety, but this week we've got something you can listen to AND watch! Moon Void Of Course is a self-released LIMITED TO 100 dvd-r packed with tons of WWATVV goodies and extras. The focal point of the release is a bunch of on the road live footage from their summer tour of 2005, but there's also a couple of music videos and footage from a particularly unconventional show they did at an orphanage earlier that year. To boot, along with the dvd-r you get a soundtrack cd-r and a lil' tour diary/insert booklet.
We repeat: This is SUPER LIMITED! You choose to snooze, you choose to lose.
... And another Wooden Wand release materializes here at AQ. To be completely frank, we've dug each one so far! So how does Sunset Sleeves measure up? Quite wonderfully, thank you very much. Imagine faint, drifting psych-folk abstractions performed by a band of drowsy gypsies. Nice! 'Nuf said!
My oh my, after a couple of weeks without the arrival of a new Wooden Wand release, did we think we were gonna get a break from the seemingly endless stream of WW releases (not that we'd want one, mind you!)? Nosireebob! We knew better than that! Here's their latest album, and it's perhaps their most unstructured and meandering to date. Quite druggily hypnotic and randomly pieced together.
A side note: Uhh, we're pretty sure it isn't as it sounds, but we'd like to point out that the seventh song contains some splats and splurts that resemble, errr, musical flatulence. Ahh, was there a fartiste in the house?
Previously only available as a limited vinyl pressing of 300 from De Stijl Records, now reissued on CD by those kind folks at Troubleman Unlimited.
If we were gonna be lazy-asses and just toss off some current reference points, we might say that Wooden Wand album sounds a lot like what you might imagine the avant-folk bastard offspring of Devendra Banhart and Jandek would conjure up, but with absentminded spoken-sung male vocals and somber, resonant female vocals that occasionally draw comparisons to Jarboe (particularly on the song "Caribou Christ In The Great Void"). However, there's so much more to be said about the splendidly off-center sounds of Wooden Wand And The Vanishing Voice. Fans of Vibracathedral Orchestra, No Neck Blues Band, not to mention the assorted twigs and branches of both Animal Collective and Jewelled Antler Collective should definitely check this out (if they haven't already!). Smatterings of flute toots, stringy plink plunks, rattlings, rustlings and other random sounds rummaged from various knic-knacs, shrubbery, loosely strung strings and earthen wares. Apparently there's many many more Wooden Wand releases on the horizon. So if you dig this, you've got plenty more to look forward to! Liner notes by some dude called Thurston Moore.
Ah, Woods. It seems like maybe some of us here haven't given these guys as much attention as they deserve. Of course, some of that has to do with the difficulty in getting very many of their singles, and maybe we were just blasted with so many releases on the Woodsist label (which, you guessed it, Woods own and operate) that we overlooked them... not too sure, maybe we're just quibbling. But we will quibble no more, because At Echo Lake has our undivided attention.
This album exhibits an effortless but impeccable attention to songcraft, and even though it clocks in at under 30 minutes, its all encompassing greatness causes you to lose track of time and space, just like a good album should. While Woodsist has earned a reputation for blown out garage pop, Woods themselves are more on the folk side of the spectrum. Words like "lo-fi" will undoubtedly be thrown around, and not without good reason. This IS lo-fi, but instead of hiding behind tape hiss and distortion, the songs make perfect use of the recording quality for an album that is lush, dreamy, and above all, BEAUTIFUL. Singer Jeremy Earl's falsetto croon has earned many comparisons to Neil Young, but we're still trying to figure out who else he reminds us of. Some sort of Jad Fair/Elliott Smith hybrid on helium? Chris Gunst from Beachwood Sparks? Eh, why bother, because we imagine before long it will be Earl other people are being compared to when everyone is ripping his band off. This stuff is just so great that we can't imagine Woods NOT ascending to the next level in the indie world.
Lightly psychedelic opener "Blood Dries Darker" gives off a hazed summery feeling, its warm acoustic (we think) bass recalling the sounds of groups like Dead Milkmen or even Violent Femmes, but also sounding very appropriate for 2010. "Suffering Season" finds Earl and Woods' other half Jarvis Taveniere sounding a bit more like a ramshackle Beachwood Sparks with a ridiculously catchy chorus asking "Who knows what tomorrow might bring?"
The instrumentation on this one should appeal to anyone who dug other recent aQ favorites the Smith Westerns, as both bands seem to inhabit a world where the whole lo-fi thing is not just an excuse for not going to a real studio. Many numbers, like "Time Fading Lines" aren't necessarily "sad", but definitely a bit melancholy. A lot of these songs give off a sense of longing, not in a super defined way or anything... ultimately, though, the vibe here is pretty triumphant, some real feel good kind of stuff. Woods also know how to shake things up a bit, like on the instrumental "From The Horn", hands down the most rocking song here. Skittery guitars and some more aggressive than usual drumming have the band letting loose, and the addition of the cool backwards tape sounds actually reminded us a bit of Faust, as strange as that may sound.
Woods have created their own magical world, perfectly captured in Earl's awesome artwork, which adorns all Woodsist releases but not surprisingly make most sense on his own record sleeves. It's strange, but also very intriguing, a perfect visual accompaniment. The best thing about Woods is how they manage to be mysterious but inclusive, making tunes that will surely please all types of music lovers. It's always great when an album unexpectedly knocks you on your ass. At Echo Lake is one of those albums.
And fyi, for the next two weeks, we'll have the cd format of this on a special $2 off sale, so it's $11.98 instead of the regular $13.98, until 5/21/10!
Latest chunk of breezy, fuzzy, sweet psych jangle pop from these aQ faves, featuring a re-recorded track from their Sun And Shade full length from 2011, here featuring their new drummer, and revamped to sound more like the live version, and like the original it's pretty lovely, all high keening vocals, chiming melodies, whirring organs, softly blooping bass, hazy and dreamy, laid back and breezy, a soft twang flecked pop that's just so warm and catchy. The B side though might be the reason to pick this up, with Woods tackling the Kinks' "God's Children", from the 1971 film Percy, which sounds like it could be a Woods original, a shimmery, summery, crystalline slab of classic sixties/seventies psychedelic jangle pop.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES!!!
When we reviewed the most recent 7" from sunshiney lo-fi twang-flecked indie pop combo Woods, we finished with saying how we couldn't wait for the full length, and thankfully, we only had to wait a matter of weeks, and we are not at all disappointed. The A side from that single shows up here of course, so it might be worth revisiting that review, since in a way it's essentially an overview of this whole record. Anyway, here's what we had to say about the track "Cali In A Cup":
"Maybe the catchiest most perfectly poppy jam we've heard from Woods yet, driven by reverbed harmonica and dreamy falsetto vox, the whole song is fantastic, and it's got one of those choruses that will stick in your head forEVER."
Indeed! And listening to that track again now, it sounds just as good as it did when we first threw on the single. The funny thing is, the record starts out with a much different vibe, the title track is a sort of ominous chunk of Neil Young-ish psychedelia, all minor keys, wah wah guitars, very seventies, but the thing about Woods is, they manage to make it sound crazy catchy ANYway, with a chorus to die for, and one that is surprisingly melodic considering how dark the rest of the song is. But it works, and it's a weird, but cool, transition from that, to "Cali In A Cup".
And while much of the record tends toward the sunshiney jangle, there is plenty of darkness, and a surprisingly heavy psych streak, not to mention a knack for some seriously perfect pop, plus band don't shy away from experimentation, "Cascade" is a tripped out instrumental, all burbling FX and thick chugging bass, beneath spidery guitars, and swirls of noise, "Find Them Empty" is some heavy organ driven psych rock that fans of groups like Spyrals and Wooden Shjips will freak out over, "Lily" is a sweet slab of orchestral baroque pop, and closer "Something Surreal" is some seriously dreamy sixties style psychedelic pop. Maybe the best Woods record yet, which is saying a lot considering how much we dug the other ones!
Another fantastic slab of sunshiney lo-fi twang-flecked indie pop from these aQ faves, the A side maybe the catchiest most perfectly poppy jam we've heard from Woods yet, driven by reverbed harmonica and dreamy falsetto vox, the whole song is fantastic, but it's got one of those choruses that will stick in your head forEVER. The B side though is about far removed from crazy catchy pop as you can get, all mellow and minimal, dubbed out and dreamy, with barely there ethereal vocals and stripped down ultra skeletal drumming, everything layered and blurred in a soft psychedelia, playing out almost like a dub style 'version' of the A side. Can't wait for the full length!
We've thrown around maybe every possible adjective to describe Woods' instantly recognizable lo-fi-ish, reverb-happy, poppy psychedelic folk: "summery", "dark", "hazy", "jangly". But amidst the flurry of shape-shifting sound over their now nine-full-length career, Woods have consistently remained one thing: really fucking good.
Their newest album, City Sun Eater In The River Of Light, pushes them in a direction we haven't heard yet - with dubby beats and wavery organ, this album adds something especially slinky and groovy to their usually jammy sound that even suggests to us Jamaican reggae or Ethiopian jazz (a la our favorite Ethiopiques discs). We're hit with this right off the bat on opening track "Sun City Creeps" (named for seminal aQ faves Sun City Girls), which also features muted horns that serve well the fuller arrangement Woods have been moving towards on recent releases. The mood switches quickly but not unnervingly on third track "Morning Light", which opens with a sweeping steel guitar, recalling Harvest Moon era Neil Young. The straight up groovy rhythm section on "Can't See At All" creates something which, in the best way possible, belongs on the soundtrack to an action-packed '70s cop drama.
A Woods record would, of course, not be complete without a requisite dose of dark psychedelia, and City Sun Eater delivers on the second half of this album, especially in the powerful, woozy breakdown of "The Take", while "I See In the Dark" seems to be channelling the relaxed motorik drive of Can. This album really covers its bases in highlighting all the aspects of their unique sound and is tied together as always by the silvery thread of Jeremy Earl's delicate, signature falsetto.
Woods have masterfully mixed the richer, reverent production of their recent releases and the experimental shroomy weirdness of their early albums. Side two's "Politics of Free" proposes "in a world of shit, let's tune out tonight", and we can't wait to do just that again and again to the sounds of City Sun Eater In The River Of Light. Unforgettable.
More dreamy psychedelic loner-stoner folk from Woods. This time, looped and effected vocals, swirling atmospherics, super tripped out ambience, that gives way to an almost Cure-sounding bit of gloom pop jangle, before slipping right back into more of that lugubrious lysergic drift. The song gradually builds back up to that propulsive new wave jangly gloom, wrapped in a glimmering web of super effected, and dizzyingly tangled muted guitar melodies.
The flipside is more of the same, woozy and gloomy, soaring layered ethereal vocals, falsetto, queasy slightly off harmonies over shimmery minor key melodies, plenty of jangle, a bit like a slightly more twisted Beach Boys, via Animal Collective, via an old shack in the Woods. The second track on the B side is even more abstract and ethereal, a spooky bit of spectral drift, that manages to be haunting and lovely, while seemingly constantly on the verge of falling apart. Awesome.
Just in case you haven't quite got your fix for lackadaisical, lo-fi pop, here's a folky dose of strummy daydreaming from East Coasters Woods. Songs of Shame, their fourth full-length, basks in the same sunny day euphoria that radiates from other Woods records, complete with falsetto vocals, clumsy percussion and reverb on -everything-. Dense layers of woozy vocals and weird Casio sounds busy the songs as small details and hidden instruments reveal themselves in a sea of psychedelic clatter. Super warped and drugged out, Songs of Shame sulks in pools of hazy acoustic guitars, ultra catchy 'ooohs and aahs', and soaringly damaged fuzzzzzzz guitar, all loosely compiled into some analog relic found on the shore of Coney Island in the blaring summer heat. Housed in a sharp lookin sleeve with a grainy mountainous landscape on the front and what looks like a drawing by a kindergardener on acid on the back, very nice and very typical of the Woodsist fellows. Not sure how limited this puppy is, but take our advice and don't miss out.
Latest from this sunshiney soft psych folk duo (now a trio, if you count new member Jewelled Antler-er Glenn Donaldson), and it's another gem, a collection of warm, jangly, strummy folk flecked indie pop sweetness, lo-fi, but somehow still lush and lovely, reminding us alternately of classic Elephant 6 bands, the Kinks, even Can or Neu! in places, specifically on "Out Of The Eye", which finds the band getting totally kosmische krautrock, locking into a darkly dreamy motorik groove, the rhythm softly propulsive, while all around strange garbled vocals and wah guitars drift and swirl, and on "Sol Y Sombra", which takes that same krautrock vibe, and stretches it way out, into something way more washed out and abstract, a little new agey, sounding not unlike The Alps actually, acoustic guitars, muted hand drums, whirling atmospheres, and softly chiming melodies, not to mention some distant spidery guitar leads, and a warm woozy, low slung bassline, dreamily hypnotic and captivating.
But of course those moments are peppered throughout a record that is significantly more poppy, and folky, rife with about-to-break falsetto vox, simple strummed guitars, mysterious Pet Sounds style percussion, hazy shimmery guitar jangle, sweetly subtle hooks, lilting summery, shuffling reverby garage pop, even some almost tropical sounding psychedelia, all wound into practically perfect little folk pop gems, that definitely find the band reaching new heights of popsmithery, and making this maybe the best Woods record yet.
We know this came out a while back, not sure why we haven't gotten around to reviewing it till now, but rest assured it is killer! Another sun soaked, acid bathed dose of strummy pop from East Coasters Woods. This 7" hits hard with two driving tracks of their usual lo-fi clanking around, up-beat catchy lyrics, vocals sung in the usual high pitched, seven-year-old-trying-to-imitate-Neil-Young kind of voice, driving rhythm guitar plods on and on like the Stooges gone punk, soaring fuzz leads driving each song into rock and roll oblivion, all wrapped up in a neat little package just waiting to be thrown on your turntable before the last days of summer slip away. We know there's a lot of folks rolling with the whole old-as-new aesthetic, and we have to say Woods really stands out as being one of the most charming of these new lo-fi garage groups. That said, this 7" is a must have and should not be missed!! Recommended!
Brand new two tracker from these dreamy forest folkers, their brand of folk indie fuzz pop a sound we just seem to love more and more everyday, harmony vocals, clean guitar jangle, simple garage rock drumming, so sunshiney and sixties sounding, music for laying in green grass under blue skies, the wind in the trees, all wrapped in soft reverb and dreamy delay.
The live track on the flipside though is the real stunner, super stripped down, total back porch, later afternoon strum and croon, also hazy and reverbed, but with some of the dreamiest falsetto vocals we've heard in ages, with a killer hook, and spidery tendrils of woozy guitar melody. Haunting and super pretty, super minimal and skeletal but still mysteriously lush.
Housed in an instantly recognizable Woods sleeve, an old time life picture of trees and forests, all creased up, with the band name scrawled in white out in the corner.
Probably crazy limited too...
Ah, the new Woods! This wasn't a Record Store Day release, though maybe it should have been, it's special anyhow. Like the new one from Thee Oh Sees, it actually came out on April 15th, a few days before RSD.
We loved loved loved Bend Beyond, the previous album from these wonderful lo-fi indie pop folk-rockers, and loved the many Woods records before that one too, so we're super excited about this, but what with Record Store Day and a million other things we haven't yet had time to write up a 'proper' in depth review like it deserves. But we really want to get this on the list anyway, so here's our quick attempt at a review, just basically saying "Yay, new Woods!" and that it's kinda like its predecessor, but more on their folky side, with less in the way of the heavy rock jammin' that they got into there, still sounding very '70s and timeless too, softly psychedelic. The songs are maybe not as immediately catchy (there's no perfect pop "Cali In A Cup" this time) but are definitely sweet and lovely, full of soothing sunshiney strum and uplifting melodies, some mellow moments of darkness too, and the vocals, as always, tremulously high and fragile and falsetto, reminding us of Jeff Lynne a bit, Neil Young of course too.
Ok, those are just the notes to the review we should have written if we had more time, but ought to indicate that this is well worth checking out!
Maybe not a match made in heaven, but definitely a match made in some twisted sonic otherverse where we want to spend the rest of forever, this brand new split finds East Coast psych folk combo Woods teaming up with ex- Man Is The Bastard weirdo psych noise SoCal shaman Henry Barnes aka Amps For Christ for a record of heady psychedelic drift and cosmic lo-fi sonic experimentation, that sounds just about as good as we figured it would. The track listing is a little bit confusing. Opener "Sleep" while credited to Woods, definitely sounds like a collaboration, the music itself is lilting sun dappled folk, all chiming and sweetly melodic, but underneath, a crazy distorted droned out guitar like buzz undulates and pulses, adding a strange sort of raga like vibe, and for folks new to Amps For Christ, definitely sounds like one of Barnes' gorgeous and gorgeously ramshackle homemade noise generators, which often look like some old kitchen cabinet you might find by the side of the road, all warped plywood, and strange nails, often screwdrivers and wild tangles of wires, and more often than not, everything decorated with strange drawings of winged guitars and bits of twisted bible verse. However, once we get to a track we know is a collaboration, we realize maybe that first track was just Woods paying homage to the twisted genius of AfC, "From Oatmeal To Buttermilk" a wild glitched out buzzing droney electronic raga, that squelches and chitters, a field of hazy electronic interference over mysterious electronic bagpipe like melodies. Soon after, we return to the tranquil dream folk of Woods, who seem to have infused all their songs with some mysterious psychedelic buzz, buried way down in the mix, a raga-like buzz underpinning the folky flutter, the campfire twang, and the abstract Appalachia, all before we get to the final three song suite, which finds Barnes and his Amps For Christ unfurling some surprisingly dreamy folk of his own (if the track listing is to be believed), acoustic guitars, simple hand drums, shakers and percussion, distant buzz and warm atmospheric shimmer, falsetto vox, and while we were expecting some crazy electronic freakout from the oddly named final jam, the nearly ten minute "Roto Koto In C Major", instead we're treated to a darkly hypnotic, brooding expanse of bas driven psychedelia, laced with bits of twang, flurries of acoustic guitar, more percussion, all very spare and spaced out, hauntingly mesmerizing, and dreamily trippy and druggy and woozily soft focus.
Fans of both bands will definitely dig, and this may just be the most easy to digest Amps For Christ record yet, certainly the perfect place to start for the uninitiated, and we can hope the perfect gateway record to all the weird electronic darkness that lurks beyond.
Maybe not a match made in heaven, but definitely a match made in some twisted sonic otherverse where we want to spend the rest of forever, this brand new split finds East Coast psych folk combo Woods teaming up with ex- Man Is The Bastard weirdo psych noise SoCal shaman Henry Barnes aka Amps For Christ for a record of heady psychedelic drift and cosmic lo-fi sonic experimentation, that sounds just about as good as we figured it would. The track listing is a little bit confusing. Opener "Sleep" while credited to Woods, definitely sounds like a collaboration, the music itself is lilting sun dappled folk, all chiming and sweetly melodic, but underneath, a crazy distorted droned out guitar like buzz undulates and pulses, adding a strange sort of raga like vibe, and for folks new to Amps For Christ, definitely sounds like one of Barnes' gorgeous and gorgeously ramshackle homemade noise generators, which often look like some old kitchen cabinet you might find by the side of the road, all warped plywood, and strange nails, often screwdrivers and wild tangles of wires, and more often than not, everything decorated with strange drawings of winged guitars and bits of twisted bible verse. However, once we get to a track we know is a collaboration, we realize maybe that first track was just Woods paying homage to the twisted genius of AfC, "From Oatmeal To Buttermilk" a wild glitched out buzzing droney electronic raga, that squelches and chitters, a field of hazy electronic interference over mysterious electronic bagpipe like melodies. Soon after, we return to the tranquil dream folk of Woods, who seem to have infused all their songs with some mysterious psychedelic buzz, buried way down in the mix, a raga-like buzz underpinning the folky flutter, the campfire twang, and the abstract Appalachia, all before we get to the final three song suite, which finds Barnes and his Amps For Christ unfurling some surprisingly dreamy folk of his own (if the track listing is to be believed), acoustic guitars, simple hand drums, shakers and percussion, distant buzz and warm atmospheric shimmer, falsetto vox, and while we were expecting some crazy electronic freakout from the oddly named final jam, the nearly ten minute "Roto Koto In C Major", instead we're treated to a darkly hypnotic, brooding expanse of bas driven psychedelia, laced with bits of twang, flurries of acoustic guitar, more percussion, all very spare and spaced out, hauntingly mesmerizing, and dreamily trippy and druggy and woozily soft focus.
Fans of both bands will definitely dig, and this may just be the most easy to digest Amps For Christ record yet, certainly the perfect place to start for the uninitiated, and we can hope the perfect gateway record to all the weird electronic darkness that lurks beyond.
It's not often that we so highly recommend an album based on the strength of one song and one song alone, so believe us when we say that even if the remainder of the eponymous debut of Woods Family Creeps was nothing more than field recordings of mice pooping, the two minutes and 19 seconds of pop genius that are "Twisted Tongue" would still make the record a must-have. Thankfully, the rodent-pooping is kept to a bare minimum and the rest of the album is also pretty damn great!
Woods Family Creeps (formally a duo called Woods, now a trio), hail from Brooklyn and their first record under the new moniker displays the kind of charming, good-natured self-indulgence that makes us wax nostalgic about the glory days of tape-hiss drenched lo-fi pop of which we at aQ are all huge fans. You'll pick up on moments of earnest Seba/Sentri/doh songsmithery, deadpan Halo Benders/Beat Happening drawl, classic K Records twee, and even the chimpy charms of Trollin Withdrawl. Despite the occasional forays into white-dudes-with-sitar-envy territory (which seems to be the proverbial onion on the belt of the kids these days and so can probably be forgiven), the overall feel is one of pastoral noodling and lazy campfire sing-a-longs. That said, the loosey-goosey feel that the band cultivates allows them to stretch out into some surprising directions (check out the Italo-soundtrack rock of instrumental closer, "The Creeps"!), but that said we're still thankful that the their 'experimental' side is tempered by the inclusion of solid pop songs with hooks aplenty.
Woods Family Creeps, the record, comes courtesy of of Time Lag Records' "Red" imprint and was initially issued as an ultra-limited LP that sold out in about 10 seconds flat. The cd is limited to 1000 copies packaged in a gorgeous, full-color mini-gatefold sleeve. Don't sleep on this one, as it's sure to go fast!
Latest chunk of blackened whatthefuck from these Swedish weirdos, who most long time readers of the aQ list will already be familiar with. Their modus operandi is a twisted take on the sort of midtempo Burzumic buzz, flecked with bits of folks, strange carnivalesque filigree, and INSANE vocals, from croony clean singing, to throat shredding maniacal shrieking, to growled monster gurgle, all wrapped round some seriously bent black metal, loping and plodding, melancholy and mournful, miserable and doomy.
Woods Of Infinity are not super fucked up in the way a lot of the black metal we love is, retarded, damaged, stumbling, etc. They are however WEIRD AS FUCK, the music for sure, but especially the vocals, and apparently the lyrics, which according to one online source involves a serious love of young girls among other perversions, a truly twisted, surreal, abstract, their weirdness deftly woven into their folky blackened dirges.
This is definitely the best sounding WoI record, very loud and heavy and clear, with lots of acoustic guitars, strange keyboards, out of tune pianos, really bizarre samples, and some of the strangest songs we've heard from these guys yet.
"Lakttagen" begins with some gauzy ambient piano, the guitars come in all filthy and crumbling and gritty, the vocals a raspy cackle, that gets more and more hysterical as the track progresses, the piano plinking out a sad melody, over a buzzy wash of guitar grit. "Avgrund" is a gorgeous epic mournful doomic dirge, but the vocals are some sort of twisted dramatic top 40 croon, all soulful and emotional, almost cringeworthy, but somehow it works. How about "Stilla", another killer doomy din, with strangely orchestral flourishes, choir like background vocals, but then the main vocals join in, a sort of drunken howling, like Lemmy on a bender, caterwauling in Swedish over the dark doleful melancholia underneath.
Then there's "Forsta Augusti", maybe the weirdest of all, a strange sort of shuffling metal calypso, with still more tortured vocal mewlings, over a groovy exotic melody, and a cha cha cha sort of beat. And it just keeps getting weirder and weirder, if that were even possible, more strange fucked up vocal stylings, long stretches of creepy ambience, blasts of almost buzzing black metal, long haunting samples, epic majestic stein hoisting metal sea shanties, shimmering dark folk, and more that we could possibly list in a single review. Remember these are the guys who covered Barry Manilow on another record, so most of this madness should come as no surprise.
Definitely way too weird for the average black metaller. But metal fans into the freaky and the bizarre, the confusing and completely fucked will dig this big time, and quite possibly non metal folks might too, as long as they possess a distinct penchant for weird shit, and have no aversion to some buzzing blackness in their strange sounds...
It's been a little while since we listed a 'weirdest black metal band ever' but we're about to fix that. Ljuset is the latest from Swedish black metal weirdos Woods Of Infinity, whose modus operandi is a sort of loping melancholy black metal, a little folky, midtempo and buzzy, with insane cackling demonic vocals all over the place, a quick glance at the lyric sheet demonstrates why, SO MANY lyrics, all in Swedish and all delivered in a cracked clownish falsetto shriek. Actually the more we listen to this, the more the vocals sound like Mika of Circle totally losing his mind and capturing it all on tape. We hear Lugubrum, Vondur, and other like minded outsider black metallers. On their last record, WoI did a Barry Manilow cover too if that gives you an idea of the sort of headspace these guys occupy, and while on this latest disc there are no covers, there are plenty of insanely verbose vocals, haunting keyboards, barking dogs, cackling laughter, strange calliope music, record crackle, folky renaissance faire guitar and creepy monk like chants.
BUT, this isn't actually as damaged or fucked up as a lot of black metal we love, but what it is, is truly unique, and most definitely WEIRD as all get out. But the more you listen, the more these songs have a strange poetry, a perfectly nonsensical sense. Always the best way to tell if a band is TRYING to sound weird, or if they are just at their very core, really really strange. The music is actually quite melodic and beautiful, a mournful melancholy blackness that sprawls like a dark cloud, each melody a different shade of grey. We have to say it again, but the more we listen to this, the more we can't shake that Circle comparison, the way the vocals interact with the repetitive riffing. Maybe if you had a hankering for some blackened folky hypnorock this might hit the spot. But for metalheads, imagine some loping dirgey doometal, more midtempo than sludge, maybe old Paradise Lost or My Dying Bride, but with a bit more gypsy folk mixed in, rife with sorrowful melodies and depressive atmosphere, but then be prepared for a mad as a hatter vocalist to wildly sermonize over the top, like some alien demon priest. So completely amazing.
Beautifully packaged with heavy textured paper, and cover art by an artist who ONLY uses bodily fluids as a medium, and a seriously extensive lyric sheet.
We have to admit, we were initially intrigued by Woodsman because the label compared them to Andee's old band A Minor Forest, and while Woodsman do have a bit of a post/math rock thing going on, they still he much closer to the rest of the Mexican Summer stable, woozy, washed out, psychedelic, tripped out pop. That said, Woodsman do add some muscle to that sound, with seriously beefy guitars and some hard hitting drumming, but those elements are wrapped up in thick hazy swaths of reverb drenched shimmer, of warped wheezing synths, processed vox, if anything, the sound is more Animal Collective, or Gang Gang Dance, the guitars chime and ring out, almost like they were plucked from a Big Country jam, the drums are tribal and looped sounding at times, the band definitely have a propulsive, almost groovy thing going on, when they slowdown, it's all murky whirring slowcore, like a more druggy, abstract Tortoise (who the band also get compared to), especially on the nearly 20 minute closing track, a sprawling rhythmscape, skittery drums, chorus drenched guitars, loping bass, all wrapped in a soft focus swirl of muted FX and woozy melodies, building to a bit of a frenzied freakout, before slipping right back into slow spiraling stretch of lilting chiming blissed out drift.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES, each one hand numbered, comes with a download card as well...
Record number two from these modern post rockers, whose first lp on Mexican Summer was a big hit around here, and whose sound continues to explore similar sonic territory, meandery and melodic, spidery guitars, intricate interwoven melodies, subtly complex rhythms, washed out ethereal vox, reverbed and drifty and abstract, the sound is jazzy and spacey, a bit new agey here and there, very krautrock, all deftly woven into a sort of post Tortoise post rock drift.
Occasionally squalls of distorted guitar erupt, and the songs are laced with subtle sonic intricacies, swooping backwards rhythms, electronic bits, programmed beats, swirly effects, even some samples here and there, but the core of Woodsman's sound melodic and rhythmic, the players unfurling totally hypnotic jams, lushly textured, and yet still strangely catchy. The A-side closer is some totally blissed out krautdrone space rock, sounding almost like a mellower Circle, or pre-psych-blow-out White Hills, subtly druggy and trippy, but totally mesmerizing and hypnotic. And as if to drive that point home, turn the record over and dive into the sidelong "Smells Like Purple", way more loose and jammy, epic and sprawling, a total space trip head nod blow out, the drums motorik, the guitars distorted but still melodic, the whole track growing gradually spacier and spacier, until the song reaches an almost stasis, only to build it right back up again, the drums getting more and more busy and propulsive, the guitars more dense and layered, the sound shoegazey and dreamlike and totally psychedelic.
More black metal madness, in cassette form of course, this time from Brazilian one man band Woodsmarch, a buzzing, stumbling black beast, who owes much to Burzum, but makes this loping buzzing blackness his very own. Simple guitar parts, seemingly played on not entirely distorted guitars, very epic and majestic, but always seeming to struggle, the drums also simple, a midtempo pound, lurching chaotically alongside the strange gnarled guitar lines, the vocals a strangled harsh howl, the tempo very seasick and warbly, to the point that even though the sound is buzzy and black, it still feels ambient. Hypnotic and droning, the guitars smeared and blurry, black clouds of buzzing sound, the drums sprawled out over the black backdrop, with plenty of strange arrangements, acoustic interludes, bizarre moaning keyboard like low end drones, the whole thing sort of mesmerizing and dreamlike. Pretty amazing actually. Fans of off kilter black buzz like Draugurz, Varghkoghargasmal and the like will definitely dig.
Eastern European evil rears its horned head once again, this time in the guise of the evocatively monickered Woodtemple. Occupying a suitably satanic space alongside the black metal elite (Graveland, Nargaroth, Burzum), Woodtemple do dabble in buzzing blazing plague of locusts riffery like their blackened brethren, but spend most of their time loping malevolently at a slow to midpaced clip, dirge-y and fuzzy, hypnotically static, stumblingly midtempo with struggling double kick drums and super simple, heavy handed buzzsaw riffs, pounding and sawing away, with distant keyboards picking out some ancient rhythm, while the drone-metal crush powers relentlessly hellward. Woodtemple are not about virtuosity or musical agility, they are all raw feeling and dark emotion, communicated through brutal and incessant metallic forcefulness, and that means it's not always smooth and slick. In fact sometimes it's just the opposite. Some of the drumming is so bad it's downright laughable, but in the context of the record it just becomes a swaying, stumbling stuttering piece of the already fuzzy, rough and damaged whole. This is one of those records that really straddles the line between brilliant ineptitude and inspired brutality. Which of course makes it one of our favorite black metal records of the year.
Ahhh, the return of the Austrian black metal demons Woodtemple. Their last release was definitely one of our favorites, a blackened hornet's nest of spikey guitars, throbbing hypnotic rhythms, stumbling chaotic drumming, and fuzzy forest atmosphere. Thankfully, very little has changed in Woodtemple's black sonic world, it's still a perfectly damaged and confusional black metal thicket. Three lengthy tracks of plodding, mesmerising midtempo buzz, dirge-y and relentless, with completely arbitrary shifts in tempo and riffing. Almost like completely random parts were just butted up to each other with no regard for whether they fit together at all. The drummer is obviously struggling desperately to catch the changes but that's part of what makes this so good. It's like Black Flag or early Black Sabbath, in that it's always on the edge of collapse, stumbling and lumbering, only seconds away from letting the riff get away from them or watching the rhythm crumble before their very eyes.
Obvious reference points would be Nargaroth, Burzum and especially Graveland, but Woodtemple, whether through sheer ineptitutde, or some sort of unholy inspiration, manage to create a totally unique hypnotic black metal space, keyboards way up in the mix, over fuzzy crumbly riffs, barely held together by the drums, which seem to be marching to their own demonic rhythm, all woven together into a pulsing, throbbing, mesmerising blackened metal drone, that finds you entranced, laying on the moist leaves on the forest floor, looking at the moonlit sky through the dense canopy of trees, waiting for the end. So gorgeously bleak and brilliant.
We've been dying for this new release forever, the latest from Austrian one man black metal horde Woodtemple for ages, from the moment we first heard whispers of a new full length. Faithful AQ-ers will no doubt be well aware of our infatuation with Woodtemple. A stumbling buzzing midtempo black metal unlike any other. Well, except maybe Graveland, who Woodtemple sound A LOT like. But they manage to be way more damaged sounding and thus somehow just that much more mysterious. They sound a little bit like Graveland's fucked up younger brother, spewing a similar buzzy droney blackness, but with more melody, more jangle, and way more weirdness.
As everyone knows by now, we're huge fans of damaged and demented, super fucked up black metal, from Benighted Leams to Dead Reptile Shrine to Furze, the weirder and the more unexplainable the better. But there's something special, and maybe even more fucked up about a band that is not so obviously and blatantly weird. A band that on first listen sound like good, somewhat traditional black metal, but closer listening reveals all sorts of subtle details and freaky fucked up sonic irregularities that lurk right there under the surface. Such is the case with Woodtemple. Whose weirdness originally stemmed mostly from a certain amount of ineptness. His insistence on playing drums, even though you could here him struggling through every track. But that uneven tempo worked to Woodtemple's favor, giving those old records a woozy, stumbling almost seasick feel. Those old records were obviously the work of someone with grand aspirations of maybe -being- a Graveland, but who fell a bit short, but in doing so, created something so much more original and appealing. Well, a strange thing happened in the years since the last Woodtemple, Aramath, the man who IS Woodtemple, has gotten a whole lot better, and a lot more creative, and more importantly has gotten himself a session drummer. Our first thought was "oh crap" thinking that this new tighter, more competent outfit wouldn't be nearly as appealing, but the exact opposite is true. Now the weirdness is part and parcel of Aramath's vision, and this new Woodtemple is fast becoming our favorite new black metal record.
The basic blueprint is the same, a loping midtempo Burzumic buzz, lurching, seasick, sort of waltzy at times, some blastbeats, but even those stretches are not all that fast, it's mostly about mood and atmosphere and texture, a grim, melancholic world of doom, death and depression, rendered in droned out black metal dirges and buzzing riffage. In addition to the new more competent drumming, the songs have gotten more complex, with plenty of keyboards, strange rhythmic breakdowns and a surprising amount of 'jangle', some of the tracks almost sound like blackened post rock, moping and moody without being ultra harsh and hateful. And there are several super dreamy (for black metal at least) loooooong stretches of repeated riffing, building into a trance like mesmer, all looped sounding and minor key, almost a little like Slint, but all under a whooshy wash of high end keyboards. Beyond that, it's just a function of WT's killer songs, and these songs are killer, catchy riffs, weird obfuscated hooks, and a thick dense ultra heavy sound. The perfect blend of head banging blackness, trippy whatthefuckness, and blissed out dronebuzz. In fact, the new Woodtemple is so fierce and so moody and so epic and so heavy and so fucking good we actually find ourselves not missing the Woodtemple of old one bit!
While they last, we have the super limited (500 copies) hand numbered digipak version, once these are gone, you'll get the normal jewelcase version.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Issue 4 of this upstart mag, covering all things grime and dubstep and reggae. Definitely a godsend, considering how underrepresented grime and dubstep remains in the US. The biggest issue yet, this one features dubstepper Untold on the cover. Inside: Hessle Audio, Sci-Fi and Reggae, Newham Generals, Michael Smith: Dub Poet, UK Dubplate Houses, Tony Thorpe and loads more. As well as tons of reviews. Most of the stuff in each issue is new to us, but usually has us tracking music down by a handful of the artists featured. The only bummer is that lots of the stuff here, especially the records that get reviewed, seem nearly impossible to get here in the States, but it's still a great read, and even though these guys seem to be way ahead of the game, a lot of the stuff covered is starting to make its way over here. This way you'll be ready!
