For years now we've been singing the dark praises of this twisted one man band, whose sound is an ever-shifting
sprawl of cinematic blackened noise-doom weirdness. Delivering noxious blurts of industrial crush, wrapped around stately marches and harrowing ambience, moments of almost soundtrack-ish tranquility give away to heaving waves of crumbling power electronics or stumbling caveman pummel. As much as we love Gnaw Their Tongues, even we had trouble keeping up with his output, a barrage of singles and splits, cd-r's and cassettes, driving the obsessive completist music nerds here mad.
Well kudos to Crucial Blast for gathering up all of those odds and ends, onto one double disc, and like the releases proper, Collected Atrocities is another malevolent sonic beast, one that fits comfortable between Reeking Pained and Shuddering and An Epiphanic Vomiting Of Blood, which is where much of this stuff falls chronologically anyway, those familiar with either of those records no what sort of glorious epic filth is in store, those who are not, should be prepared for what is essentially a hellish soundtrack, to the most terrifying film never made. Strings shimmer amidst a cacophony of clang and clatter, loops warble and mutate, samples drift in from the ether, vokills howl and shriek behind veils of black thrum, and rib cage rattling low end threatens to turn your bones to dust, it's like a melting symphony colliding with a black metal band dosed on some seriously bad psychedelics, a harrowing sonic swirl, dizzying and darkly delightful, broodingly beautiful in places, but painfully punishing in others, Mories, the man behind GTT, conjuring up some insane alternative musical universe, one that evokes the maddest of hallucinations, and as we must have mentioned before, these SHOULD be the scores to twisted arthouse horror flicks, even though ultimately they don't need any visuals at all, it's that rare sort of sound that opens some primitive portal in your brain, unleashing your imagination, and sending it spiraling into the darkest depths of your blackened soul.
Packaged in a super swank 6 panel digipak, with some very cringeworthy artwork.
We almost missed out on this one completely. Limited to 100 copies or so, we tried to order 40 and were informed they only had a handful left. So we begged and pleaded, and the label agreed to press up 40 more copies just for us, and thus for you. Whew! Since we discovered this band we've become pretty obsessed. As have you all, judging from how quick we sell out of Gnaw records. They're heavy, they're super fucked up, it's not just black metal or sludge, it's some head spinning hybrid equal parts abstract industrial, ambient collageblasting blackness, hyperspeed grind, blackdrone, harsh and hellish, but strangely musical, their last record, the recently reviewed An Epiphanic Vomiting Of Blood (they have a knack for titles too) is pretty much a shoe in for record of the year. Have a look at that review for some serious gushing.
This 3 song ep, is GTT at their most black metal. The first two tracks, while laced with bits of orchestral grandeur, and blown out crumbling bliss, spend most of their time blasting away, but even then, there are bits of melodic flair here and there, the distortion is so thick and intense, the whole thing threatens to blur into some thick whirring drone, the opener has a killer breakdown groove, utterly majestic and epic, before flitting back to the black blast. The second track is another blackened monster, furiously thrashing and convulsing wildly, but it too is peppered with bits of glimmering effulgence, and a middle breakdown where distorted guitars are pitched up and allowed to shimmer ominously like some Bernard Hermann score, before the metal drops back in, transforming the track into a pummeling slow motion Godflesh style industrial dirge that eventually launches itself back into a furious burst of grim brutality.
The final track is the creepiest of the bunch, long drawn out synth drones, wavering ominously, wrapped in bis of whir and metallic buzz, samples distorted and effected drifting amidst the swirling black ambience, the moodiness eventually overtaken by a thick wave of white noise distortion and what sounds like voices screaming in terror, finally splintering into a hellish black frenzy.
Packaged in a mini 3" dvd-style case, with full color artwork, and pressed on a black cd-r. Limited to these 40 copies, once they're gone, might be tough to convince them to make us more again...
It seems almost criminal to release something so limited by a band as hyped as these guys (or this guy) are lately. But there you go. 100 copies. Already sold out. We got almost half of them, but even just in the store they've been flying out of here. So you should know what that means by now. Thankfully, all the hype is well deserved and then some. Gnaw Their Tongues is one of the grimmest, sickest, darkest, most gloriously fucked up outfits going, mixing black ambient drones, dirgey sludge, buzzing black metal, abstract industrial, even mixing in bits of dialogue and snippets of opera and random other weirdness, the result a totally baffling and bewildering headfuck, that manages to creep the shit out of us, but somehow keep us listening over and over and over and over.
Devotion though is a departure, ditching much of the metal of past releases, as well as most of the song structure, and opts for something much more static and ambient, but no less heavy, these four tracks are thick swaths of dark torturous throb and groan, creaks and shimmers, rendered in crumbling greys and hoarse ghostlike wheezes. It's like an aural tour of some mysterious catacombs, built from skulls and rotting flesh, the bleak atmosphere rife with the sounds of strange machinery, the tortured cries of the doomed, a veritable symphony of cacophonous crashes and deafening blasts of blown out buzz, boiled down into a primordial ooze and smeared into gorgeously lush waves of corrosive grinding crush, a bristly brutal blur that slithers and undulates like a pit full of black snakes.
The packaging is appropriately grim and black and bleak, and fancy, as are most At War With False Noise releases, printed cd-r's housed in a two sided washed out black and white gatefold sleeve, decorated with goats and candles and bloodshed and naked women, tucked in an oversized A5 sized black cardstock gatefold jacket, with a barely legible black on black vellum cover, all in a plastic outer sleeve.
And again, limited to 100 copies, already out of print, blah blah blah...
Not sure how we first heard about Gnaw Their Tongues, pretty sure a customer recommended them, but believe us when we say that the words Gnaw Their Tongues had barely left their lips (or maybe more accurately, the words had barely left the email and reached our cerebral cortex) and we were already smitten. How could they not rule with a name like that? The question was merely HOW they would rule, dark and creepy? Heavy and harsh? Doom? Blacknoise? Drone? Howabout all of those?! Oh yeah, it's almost like someone snuck into the AQ barracks in the middle of the night to scan our minds and see what kind of bands we dreamed about, the bands our subconscious really wished existed.�
They took all the data back to their lair, the one hidden beneath that big scary mountain, and spent years analyzing it, and creating equations, chemicals, compounds, months in an underground lab, until eventually the whole project was forgotten.�
Until years later, when a record store employee was hiking and discovered the ruins of some old, well, it looked like a fortress, maybe a lair, and decided, against all the wisdom gleaned from a million after school specials, to explore. Way down deep in the dusty recesses of this old forgotten lair, this record store feller discovered some sort of portal, rusted shut it seemed, and adorned with messages in some strange language, an alien tongue if you will, they looked like warnings, but what the heck, shit like that only happens in horror movies, so the feller went about trying to unlock the portal, and after what seemed like ages, the lock clicked, and the rusty metal swung open, and suddenly all was blackness, and dripping red, and agony and misery, and hell embodied on earth, in the form of this filthy black musick.�
That filthy black musick was this, the first recorded document by these mysterious black beasties known as Gnaw Their Tongues. Who spew forth a caustic noxious ultradoom. A black metallized lurch and stumble, harsh, hellish vocals buried beneath an avalanche of corrosive guitar, strange alien ambience, and mechanical monster drumming. Horrible and grotesque and dizzyingly brutal, but with tiny vestiges of beauty and melody, occasionally visible through the dense black sonic fog. Stretches of distorted doom verging on the beautiful, separating gut wrenching squalls of utter black chaos. And that's just the first track.�
The second is like the first, only fast. Really fast. Like sticking your head into the middle of a lightning storm. Like Velvet Caccoon and Wold and Amacoma all playing simultaneously, at full volume, broadcast through Konono's PA, untiil your ears bleed, but it's not all pain and suffering, this� whirling world of sound is again strangely melodic, twisted into some almost pop like shapes, but always quickly bathed in blackness and sent spinning� back into the fray.�
"29 Needles" is a step away from the end, and is some sort of industrial plod, a garish landscape of bleak brutality, sparse ultradistorted percussion, clouds of caustic whir, creepy ghostlike voices, the sort of sounds that make Wolf Eyes sound like the Carpenters. A musical death march through a world of fire and death and destruction, of keening musical misery and downtuned sonic punishment.�
Finally, the prophecy is complete with once the sounds of "Die Mutter Wahlt Das Todtenkleidchen" reach the ears of mortal man. The plants wither and the sky grows dim, our hearts beat slower and our blood begins to boil, the earth begins to crack, and slowly we sink into the depths of the underworld, and this is the sound that the end of all things makes. A lonely slowed down low end caterwaul, a rumbling whir peppered with jagged streaks of harsh noise, thick swells of coruscating sonic malevolence, storm clouds of hiss and buzz, a pounding skull splitting din from the heavens, an electrical storm that singes every nerve in your body, leaving you paralyzed, supine, blind, and mute, with only your ears ringing painfully, just barely able to make out the dying gasps of life as we know it.
NOW REPRESSED AND AVAILABLE AGAIN AT A CHEAPER PRICE!!
Here's our review of the Die Mutter reissue when we first listed it back in 2009:
Two long out of print cd-r's from our favorite symphonic black doom noize combo, gets the ultra deluxe reissue treatment. Both Die Mutter Wahlt Das Todtenkleidchen, originally released on Corps-Morts (the first thing we ever heard from GTT), and Dawn Breaks Open Like A Wound That Bleeds Afresh originally released on Universal Tongue, are both represented here in full, and on top of that, there are THREE unreleased bonus tracks, so even folks who have those original cds will probably want this, not just for the bonus tracks (although that might be enough), but to have those two out of print cd-r's on a proper cd!! Gorgeous packaging too, super striking 6 panel digipak, comes with a GTT sticker too.
Not sure how we first heard about Gnaw Their Tongues, pretty sure a customer recommended them, but believe us when we say that the words Gnaw Their Tongues had barely left their lips (or maybe more accurately, the words had barely left the email and reached our cerebral cortex) and we were already smitten. How could they not rule with a name like that? The question was merely HOW they would rule, dark and creepy? Heavy and harsh? Doom? Blacknoise? Drone? Howabout all of those?! Oh yeah, it's almost like someone snuck into the AQ barracks in the middle of the night to scan our minds and see what kind of bands we dreamed about, the bands our subconscious really wished existed.
They took all the data back to their lair, the one hidden beneath that big scary mountain, and spent years analyzing it, and creating equations, chemicals, compounds, months in an underground lab, until eventually the whole project was forgotten.
Until years later, when a record store employee was hiking and discovered the ruins of some old, well, it looked like a fortress, maybe a lair, and decided, against all the wisdom gleaned from a million after school specials, to explore. Way down deep in the dusty recesses of this old forgotten lair, this record store feller discovered some sort of portal, rusted shut it seemed, and adorned with messages in some strange language, an alien tongue if you will, they looked like warnings, but what the heck, shit like that only happens in horror movies, so the feller went about trying to unlock the portal, and after what seemed like ages, the lock clicked, and the rusty metal swung open, and suddenly all was blackness, and dripping red, and agony and misery, and hell embodied on earth, in the form of this filthy black musick.
That filthy black musick was in fact these two musical documents by these mysterious black beasties known as Gnaw Their Tongues. Who on Die Mutter Wahlt Das Todtenkleidchen, spew forth a caustic noxious ultradoom. A black metallized lurch and stumble, harsh, hellish vocals buried beneath an avalanche of corrosive guitar, strange alien ambience, and mechanical monster drumming. Horrible and grotesque and dizzyingly brutal, but with tiny vestiges of beauty and melody, occasionally visible through the dense black sonic fog. Stretches of distorted doom verging on the beautiful, separating gut wrenching squalls of utter black chaos. And that's just the first track.
The second is like the first, only fast. Really fast. Like sticking your head into the middle of a lightning storm. Like Velvet Caccoon and Wold and AmacomA all playing simultaneously, at full volume, broadcast through Konono's PA, until your ears bleed, but it's not all pain and suffering, this whirling world of sound is again strangely melodic, twisted into some almost pop like shapes, but always quickly bathed in blackness and sent spinning back into the fray.
"29 Needles" is a step away from the end, and is some sort of industrial plod, a garish landscape of bleak brutality, sparse ultradistorted percussion, clouds of caustic whir, creepy ghostlike voices, the sort of sounds that make Wolf Eyes sound like the Carpenters. A musical death march through a world of fire and death and destruction, of keening musical misery and downtuned sonic punishment.
Finally, the prophecy is complete with once the sounds of "Die Mutter Wahlt Das Todtenkleidchen" reach the ears of mortal man. The plants wither and the sky grows dim, our hearts beat slower and our blood begins to boil, the earth begins to crack, and slowly we sink into the depths of the underworld, and this is the sound that the end of all things makes. A lonely slowed down low end caterwaul, a rumbling whir peppered with jagged streaks of harsh noise, thick swells of coruscating sonic malevolence, storm clouds of hiss and buzz, a pounding skull splitting din from the heavens, an electrical storm that singes every nerve in your body, leaving you paralyzed, supine, blind, and mute, with only your ears ringing painfully, just barely able to make out the dying gasps of life as we know it.
Then came Dawn Breaks Open Like A Wound That Bleeds Afresh. We almost missed out on it completely. The original version limited to 100 copies or so, we tried to order 40 and were informed they only had a handful left. So we begged and pleaded, and the label agreed to press up 40 more copies just for us, and thus for you. But those were gone before we knew it. Which is why this reissue is such a godsend (satansend?) Since we first discovered this band we had become pretty obsessed. As have the aQ blacknoize minions, judging from how quick we sell out of Gnaw records. They're heavy, they're super fucked up, it's not just black metal or sludge, it's some head spinning hybrid equal parts abstract industrial, ambient collageblasting blackness, hyperspeed grind, blackdrone, harsh and hellish, but strangely musical.
Dawn Breaks Open Like A Wound That Bleeds Afresh finds GTT at their most black metal. The first two tracks, while laced with bits of orchestral grandeur, and blown out crumbling bliss, spend most of their time blasting away, but even then, there are bits of melodic flair here and there, the distortion is so thick and intense, the whole thing threatens to blur into some thick whirring drone, the opener has a killer breakdown groove, utterly majestic and epic, before flitting back to the black blast. The second track is another blackened monster, furiously thrashing and convulsing wildly, but it too is peppered with bits of glimmering effulgence, and a middle breakdown where distorted guitars are pitched up and allowed to shimmer ominously like some Bernard Hermann score, before the metal drops back in, transforming the track into a pummeling slow motion Godflesh style industrial dirge that eventually launches itself back into a furious burst of grim brutality.
The final track is the creepiest of the bunch, long drawn out synth drones, wavering ominously, wrapped in bis of whir and metallic buzz, samples distorted and effected drifting amidst the swirling black ambience, the moodiness eventually overtaken by a thick wave of white noise distortion and what sounds like voices screaming in terror, finally splintering into a hellish black frenzy.
As mentioned in the introduction to this review, in addition to the reissued tracks, this version of Die Mutter also includes three new, unreleased tracks. The first is a gorgeous post industrial orchestral crawl, heaving horns, crunching metallic percussion, guttural vocalizations, blasting beats, exotic strings, long stretches of haunting cinematic ambience, heavy and harrowing, the production fucked up and fractured, the sound woozy and wonderfully grim. The second is more of the same, a lumbering death march painted in broad swaths of majestic strings, buzz drenched guitars, all wrapped around a super spare machinelike pound, fuzzed out Goblin like synths, like a Bernard Hermann score gone haywire. And finally, the awesomely titled closer "I Am The Lord And There Is No Other; I Make The Light, I Create Darkness" (GTT definitely have a way with song and album titles), a slow burning bit of black ambient drift, distant drones, creepy keyboard shimmers, dark layered waves of low end rumble, epic swells of soundtracky creepiness, while all throughout, the track drifts through sprawling fields of mysterious creaks and groans, clatter and crunch. Occasional squalls of orchestral percussion tangle with blurred bits of otherworldly whir, all streaked with sweetly sorrowful strings. So good.
If you're new to Gnaw Their Tongues, and you're into sounds blackened and brutal and bizarre and fucked up and noisy and creepy and epic, then you couldn't find a better place to start than this, and yeah, GTT fanatics, you're definitely gonna want this, even if you have the cd-r's, as we mentioned above, this is some of the best GTT material, finally on a proper cd, but even more importantly, this would be well worth $10 even if it was just a 20 minute / 3 song ep containing only the bonus tracks.
Latest ep of cinematic doom dirge black ambience from this freaky one man band, and like past missives, this stuff is gorgeous, sick, confusing, heavy, fucked up, noisy, mysterious, cinematic, epic, disturbing and totally brilliant.
It's supposedly an ep, but it's almost an hour long, and for most folks an hour of this punishment is all you could take.
Check out some of our other Gnaw reviews, to read our gushing descriptions of the super evocative sound world GTT is able to conjure up, we wrote endlessly about bleak barren wastelands, charred bodies, horrific site and sounds, it's almost easier to describe the images and ideas that this music evokes that it is to describe the sounds themselves. But we'll have a go.
Imagine Abruptum scoring films and you might have a rough idea: strings soar, horns moan and bleat, industrial percussion is laced throughout, vocals are disembodied guttural howls, melodies creep through blackened soundscapes of buzz and pound, opening up into expanses of creak and clatter, laced with samples and found sounds, all floating above a sea of tense dronemusic, everything wrapped in swirling clouds of black sludge, and doomic rumbles. The clouds occasionally part, revealing some intimate moment, whether musical and dramatic, agonized wailing, or some strange dialogue, usually tangled up with some gloomy melody, some stumbling rhythm, before exploding again into a cacophonous blast of epic cinematic blacknoize.
This record doesn't deviate too much from past releases, which is just fine with us, it sounds like we're just digging deeper into the scarred psyche behind Gnaw Their Tongues, the most notable difference might be the presence of more sampled strings, and the record's closer which is a gorgeous buzzing midtempo black metal dirge, that manages to sound grim and raw, but also weirdly melodic and emotional.
GTT is one of the few bands who manages to create an absolutely unique sound, an impossible doom / black metal / ambient hybrid that fuses all of those various sounds perfectly into something that is both all and none of those. And as always, garish artwork, this time a topless woman preparing to emasculate a supine nude man, and of course song titles like "The Uncomfortable Silence In Between Beatings" and "My Womb Is Barren And I Want Revenge".
Fucked up and genius and thus absolutely recommended.
As we may have mentioned before, with every Gnaw Their Tongues release, we find ourselves once again struggling to describe the blackened filth and abject cinematic doom contained within. Fans already know what they're in store for, and will most likely want more, need more even. The music of Gnaw Their Tongues is the sort of grim black sound that inspires some strange unquenchable hunger for more. A mysterious desire to fall ever deeper into the abyss, to explore GTT's hellish sonic underworld, each record a dizzying assemblage of crushing industrial dirge, of glacial black metal buzz, of clattery, chaotic blacknoize, of weirdly operatic choral music, all woven into some sort of pitch black musical ritual.
L'Arrivee De La Terne Mort Triomphante is merely the latest miserable missive from the black soul who sits on a black throne, made from charred bones, as he gnaws tongues, drinks blood, and as a choir of demons serenades him with these sick sick sounds, but in some ways, L'Arrivee does differ from past releases, in that more than most, it allows the classical element room to breathe. GTT was always some sort of demented Arvo Part / Abruptum hybrid, mixing strings and choirs into the swirling black miasma of crush and thud and buzz and howl, and on L'Arrivee, the orchestral / cinematic side for maybe the first time, does battle with the blackened heavy side, the result a surprisingly dynamic, darkly cinematic chunk of dramatic over the top blackness. One can almost envision this as some sort of crazy Hermann Nitsch style opera, flames and blood, and carcasses, everything dripping with black ichor, lit from below, the shadows like living black beasts, the sound the perfect reflection of those images, booming timpani, moaning sorrowful strings, symphonic swells, operatic voices, mournful pianos, a sort of epic bombastic chamber music, the heaviness and buzz and black occasionally pulled back, allowing the pianos and strings time to unfurl, before quickly being swallowed up again.
The sound here too seems a bit more lush, more produced, cleaner, but without losing any of the filth. We might go so far as to say this is the most accessible GTT release to date, but then it's all relative, this is still some seriously crusty, devastatingly brutal, menacing and mean black doom misery, but deftly woven into something more melodic, more emotionally charged, where past GTT records were simply hateful and hellish, pummeling and punishing, L'Arrivee De La Terne Mort Triomphante is something more, an epic, intense journey, the soundtrack element can't be understated, this totally plays out like the score to some insane, and insanely harrowing epic, a tale of death, and lost souls, and the end of humanity, and total annihilation, but as with all great epics, there continues to be hope, a glowing ember, that sits at the middle of it all, waiting to be discovered, and to perhaps eventually triumph, or perhaps to perish and disappear into utter and unending blackness. Quite possibly the most epic black doom cinematic symphonic noise metal opera EVER.
We've gotten to the point with every review of a new Gnaw Their Tongues record, where we're essentially at a loss for words, if you have a look on the aQ site at past reviews, you'll see these sprawling ultra wordy descriptions that read like some sort of sinister poetry, because really, that's the only way to describe the twisted sound world of cinematic black doom outfit Gnaw Their Tongues, the work of a single man called Mories, who as we've established in the past, must be one twisted fellow. Cuz no one that wasn't utterly demented and deranged could create sounds like this. We have the genre in iTunes for this as 'Industrial Symphonic Cinematic Black Doom', which is as succinct a descriptor as we could come up with. And is fairly accurate. Odds are if you're a fan, you can't get enough, and you're gonna want this one too, after all these sorts of sick sonics engender obsessiveness, trust us, we're totally under Mories' thrall as well, and greet every new slab of twisted genius filth, like some bowl of rotting porridge slipped between the bars of our cell. We beg for the darkness, we imbibe of the blackness, we devour the sounds we are given.
But for those new to this bleak world of chaotic sonic mystery and abject cinematic noise, have a gander at the song titles, "Human Skin For The Messenger's Robe", "Urine-Soaked Neophytes", "Fallen Deities Bathing In Gall", "Bonedust On Dead Genitals", "The Storming Heavens As A Father To All Broken Bodies", which should give you at least a rough idea of the spirit of GTT, now imagine those sentiments rendered in sound, and you have Per Flagellum Sanguemque, Tenebras Veneramus, which in English translates as "with blood and whip, we worship the dark", which again, should leave no doubt as to what lies beyond the blackened gates, a world of churning black metal offal, of demonic symphonies, the sound of Gnaw Their Tongues is precisely what we would imagine Satan's symphony must sound like, epic and majestic, but utterly bleak and blackened, the sound swirling and blurred, erupting into thick gouts of black buzz, but just as often collapsing into something more akin to the score for a bloodletting. The sound does occasionally let up, but it's usually only to build tension, offer dynamics, or unveil the sound of some poor wretch retching, or the cries of people as their skins are flayed, Gnaw Their Tongues is a torture chamber in sound, but so exquisitely rendered, we often find ourselves wondering why Mories isn't scoring every twisted horror film in Hollywood, probably because these sounds are too evocative, and paint too much of a distinct picture, that the need for actual images is practically null.
The thing with GTT records, is that often, there's too much going on, and the can become a head spinning wall of sound, a swirling roiling cauldron of black noise, but more often the balance is just right, and Mories' creation is perfectly balanced, equal parts buzzing blackness, abject doom, and haunting symphonic mesmer, a melding of horror score, outsider abstract doom metal and epic classical music, and Per Flagellum Sanguemque, Tenebras Veneramus seems to be maybe the most perfect specimen yet, spending less time grinding and howling and blasting and buzzing, and more time conjuring up some seriously soul stirring ambience, and some blackly symphonic sonic horror.
As always, utterly intense, ridiculously epic, and has us wondering what kind of demented mind can conjure up such glorious filth, and then actually creates it. Grim genius!
The return of our favorite one man blackened noise drenched cinematic doomscape wrecking crew, with a super limited single, only 300 copies, of which we got about 40. Already sold out and out of print, so act fast if you want one of these filthy little black slabs.
And filthy they are, and heavy, and noisy, and most definitely the most metal thing we've heard from GTT to date. Two tracks, both sound cut from the same blood soaked cloth, relentless blast beats and drum machine splatter buried beneath thick oozing layers of churning downtuned black buzz, underpinned by tripped out keyboards, and some super harsh processed vokills. Occasionally moaning slabs of woozy drone surface, or the vocals become even more garbled, but the pace remains frenetic. Both sides feature a breakdown of sorts, the A side finds the sound slipping into some weird sort of soundtracky Goblin territory, all queasy synths and creepy minor key melodies, epic and cinematic, but still filthy and grimy and lo-fi, while the B-side introduces some haunting spoken word, over a dense swirl of drones and hums and buzzing, before exploding again into a guitar drenched blacknoise outro.
Awesome as always, and again, already OUT OF PRINT. These are the last copies, we, you or anyone else will ever see.
It was inevitable that these two would team up. Gnaw Their Tongues' blackened symphonic cinematic doom, and Alkerdeel's grim doomdirge and tranced out black buzz definitely sound like a recipe for some sort of sick sonic genius, and this 20 minute jam seems to confirm that theory, a slow, grinding blackened sprawl, dense Teutonic thrum, and gurgled monstrous vocals, a black drifting intro to some full on slo-mo funeral doom, lumbering tarpit trudgery, anguished howls over melting sludgy riffage, all wreathed in what sounds like shimmering strings. Abject and miserable, but infused with a weird cinematic heft, this deathlike creep oozes ominously, a downtuned deathmarch, that is suddenly transformed into something almost spacey, the distortion dialed back, leaving just rumbles and shimmers, and low end drifts, the vocals now a hissy whisper, everything blurred and smeared into a black cloud, suddenly exploding into full on, blasting black metal chaos, noisy, and heavy reverbed, a dizzying squall of buzzing and blasting musical mania, the sound growing subtly more melodic, slowing down too, with some almost-groove added to the mix, but still loose and ramshackle and seemingly perpetually on the verge of total collapse, and then the sound transforms again into a killer blast of roiling murky churn, that's more tranced out than buzzy, that too dissipates, leaving another wildly thrashing stretch of blackness, before a burst of white noise howl, obliterates everything, leaving just a gorgeous bit of pulsing melody infused noise to wind down, the various sounds receding into the blackness, eventually leaving just some gurgling low end, and a chorus of demonic vokills, all over a murky, muddy bed of churning synth flecked black blur warble.
Not sure about you, but when we rip cds into iTunes to put on our iPods, we long ago ditched the traditional genre descriptions and began making genres of our own, that more accurately reflected what the music really sounded like. A quick glance at our iTunes library reveals genres like African Psych, Rembetika, Experimental / Minimal / Classical, Powerviolence, Funereal Dooooooom, Gore Grind, Finnish Avant Rock, Electric Sitar Garage Psych, Gooom, Cinematic Space Psych, Psychedelic Space Synth, and then of course one genre, reserved specifically for Gnaw Their Tongues, Industrial Symphonic Cinematic Black Doom. Which if you've yet to hear this twisted one man band, should definitely give you an inkling of what you're in for.
On this split though, much of the symphonic, bombastic element has been dialed way back, in favor of something much more bleak and minimal, a creepy distorted black ambience, laced with all sorts of creepy field recordings and industrial clatter. Eventually this abstract drift coalesces into something much more intense, a furious blast of full on blacknoize, crumblingly distorted and seriously blown out, processed vox wound into the roiling blackened mix, all underpinned by a dark lurching rhythm. The vocals eventually morph into voKILLS, the background black abyss becomes more intense, a churning glitched out crumbling buzz, that threatens to swallow up all the other sounds, and eventually does.
GTT is matched up with Corephallism, who we had never heard before, which is apparently a solo project of one of the guys from Boston noise outfit Twodeadsluts Onegoodfuck, which had us expecting some harsh noise, but instead, the first begins with long layered synth tones, and deep sonorous chants, blurred hazy rumbling drones, the vibe is almost liturgical, at least until a cascade of crumbling static explodes into action, bringing with it, some crzed demonic vocal rasps, the match up of the almost serene synths and the crumbling, crackling, hissing howling noise is pretty potent, an ends up making it more listenable than you might think. The second track follows a similar pattern, but the noise triumphs this time around, the background a slow rumbling chordal swell, hypnotic and woozy, over which is laid a sheet of feedback drenched white noise skree, and more buried vokills, and while this track is much harsher, that pulsing low end background manages to balance the noise, and make it more droned out mesmer than ear destroying pummel.
Killer 4 way split of extreme outsider heaviness, most folks will probably grab this for the two new Gnaw Their Tongues tracks, but will probably end up digging the other three bands nearly as much.
But since GTT might be the reason most folks are here, let's talk about those tracks first. No huge departures, just more of that same, grim, apocalyptic, industrial, cinematic doom. "Crawl" is just that, a harrowing sonic crawl, with blown out distorted drums, heaving downtuned guitars, moaning miserable melodies, hysterical shrieks, shimmering strings, dense drones, a freaked out apocalyptic soundtrack to the death of mankind. "Paleness" is more of the same, but more metal, the main riff a blurred bit of undulating buzz, the vocals insane, the drums and industrial plod, long stretches of creepy ambience, the final half of the song a dense, thick, layered bit of blackened slow motion dronemusic, that is as weirdly hypnotic as it is hellish. Definitely worth it for fans, to get those two tracks, but there's much more metallic misery to be had.
The Arm And Sword Of A Bastard God (killer name!) are a Southern California doomkult, and traffic in plodding blackened doom, minimal and murky, big guitars, pounding drums, and some sick slowed down death metal style vocals. Halo Of The Sun contribute their own bit of UK style doom-ed blackness, a frantic bit of black metal laced with wild squiggly guitar harmonies, harsh vox, a definite Cradle Of Filth vibe, weirdly melodic, but way more lo-fi and underground, the track breaks down into a lurching doomy trudge, there are even some weird processed clean vocals, but it's soon back into the dense black grind and churn. Cool stuff for sure. Definitely be into hearing more from these guys.
And last up, from LA come The Slaughtered Lamb, who also do the black doom thing, their sound way more akin to Gnaw Their Tongues, super distorted, almost industrial, the guitars crumbling and nearly formless, the vocals dripping in effects, a filthy abject sonic crawl through broken glass and bloody entrails, leading to the 26 minute closer, an sprawling bit of epic and dismal black ambience, from hushed shimmer, to distorted thrum, to black buzz creep and back again.
All four bands impress, so buy it for the Gnaw Their Tongues, but stick around for the Slaughtered Lamb!
This mysterious UK psychedelic space rock collective return with this sprawling three track 12" that displays a whole 'nother side to these faves. Whereas before, we typically aligned Gnod with groups like White Hills, and Carlton Melton, and the Heads, on these three tracks, they delve into a twisted strain of dark electronics, which to a certain degree still retain some of the psychedelia and spaciness of past outings, but here, those elements are woven into a pulsing landscape of murk and slow shifting texture, a sort of primitive psychedelic house music really, the opener is all sequenced pulse and throb, beneath a slow swirl of greyed out shimmer, and underpinned by deep rumbling low end, mesmerizingly motorik and minimal, not danceable per se, but certainly still some sort of mutant electronica, which on in "20 Sides A Minute" unfurls into an epic stretch of minimal skitter, percolating synth sputter beneath a slowed down four on the floor rhythm, the surrounding sounds swirling drowsily from speaker to speaker, the sounds growing darker and more minimal as the track progresses, sort of reminding us of Shit & Shine if they made a record for Kompakt if that makes any sense. Tripped out, and darkly meditative, with some extreme stereo panning that is definitely made for headphone trip out.
The whole of the B side is taken up by the 16+ minute "Defeatism", which starts out as a hushed drone, before revealing itself as some weird gothy new wave jam, all 303 drum machines, swirly synth pads, manic rhythmic skitter, over drifty chordal swirl and shimmery ambience, it's Gnod, so there's plenty of weirdness going on in and around and under the surface, and about half way through the sound shifts dramatically, and becomes super murky and muddy and ominous, the low end expanding into a black sonic cloud, before turning downright kosmische at one point, only to finish things off with a wild tangled of bass pulsations, fluttering skitter, and FX drenched crackle, once again swirling wildly from speaker to speaker, adding a disorienting psychedelic edge to the proceedings.
There's a certain degree of WTF? going on, but we're beginning to think these guys do actually have more in common with a group like Shit & Shine than The Heads, their focus on rhythm and texture, and achieving serious psychedelia by manipulating and sculpting the two.
There is of course a download code, which not only gets you the whole record in digital form, but also a FIFTY minute bonus track, recorded live, the band doing a similar set as to what's on the record, but a bit more rough edged and raw life, a little bit noisier and abstract, but channeling the same sort of electronic psych-kraut spirit.
Pressed on opaque gold vinyl, and as always extremely limited, so much so that this may very well be the only batch we'll be able to get!
Folks who have been digging the crushing sludgedoom heaviness of Aussie doomlords Fire Witch would do well to check out the darkly dulcet tones of fellow Aussies Goat Witch. Two witches hmmm... Well, yeah, it seems that these two bands are related, sharing members, maybe even all the members, the sound is similar anyway, a glorious lurching slow motion doomic groove, spaced out and abstract.�
Downtuned riffs grind and throb, the drums are massive, recorded super hot, wild fills spattering the otherwise sprawling minimal crush. A bit of mathy chaos spilled out over an oozing black backdrop. Like the drummer for Hella playing in Khanate maybe.�
But this isn't pure doom, not at all, melodies lurk everywhere, and the busy drumming, and subtly clever riffing give the whole thing a serious post rock vibe, which is definitely a good thing here. Some of the build into extended, nearly cinematic crescendos, sounding like some noise rock doom drenched Godspeed, and others stretch way out and get all blissy and krautrocky, turning Goat Witch's doom into something more akin to Circle or Salvatore or Tortoise or even a heavy metal Necks, loping and repetitive and super hypnotic, epic and grandiose.�
Definitely one for the broad minded doomlords out there and would most certainly hit the spot for all the postrockmetalheads into Pelican and Isis and Conifer and Tides and other like minded combos...
After digging heavily on Australian doom merchants Fire Witch, we discovered the less heavy and more sprawling and post rocky Goat Witch, featuring some of the same members, whose Blind record was a huge hit around these parts.
So now we have another Goat Witch disc, called Live At Cumbersome Records, which appropriately enough was recorded live, and features an expanded line up of two drummers, three bass players and one guitarist, which includes ALL the members of Fire Witch as well as a bunch of other Aussie noisemakers.
Like Blind, this disc shrugs of much of the doom, treading into more Godspeed like waters, long sprawling slow building epics, where the drums offer up textures and filigree as often as actual beats. You think with three basses this would be a bloody sludgefest, but instead, the basses are subtle, woven into a shifting latticework of low end, allowing the guitar to drift and ring out, riffs floating above the thick swirling swells. Eventually the drums do kick in, but not in a crushing doom way, instead, the sound gets even more mathy and post rocky, the drums hyperkinetic, the guitars slippery and slithery, suddenly it's some krautrock spacerock hypno jam, relentless and hypnotic, eventually breaking down into some seriously dreamy drift, shifting streaks of guitars, muted tribal drumming, moody and smoldering, slow burning and ominous, thick cymbal swells, culminating in a tripped out mathy outro, all effected guitars throbbing basses. And that's just the opening 42 minute salvo.
The second track is almost like a dubbed out version of the first. Beginning with bits of scraped guitar, abstract bass drift, bursts of chaotic drum splatter, long stretches of near ambient shuffle, sometimes coalescing into almost Morricone sounding grooves, or tripped out mathy minimalism, getting pretty heavy toward the end, but not so much metal as thick swaths of spaced out psychrock, fluttering feedback, grinding bass lines, stuttering rhythms, finishing off with a brief burst of furious ultra tight riff rock, before stumbling to a halt.
Two tracks, 72 minutes. Heavy, dark, mathy, krauty, spacey. Folks who are gonna love this know who they are. You dig White Hills, Monster Magnet, Godspeed, Circle, Necks? Metallic post rock? Ambient drone doom? Mathy psychedelic krautrock? Yeah, we thought so...
Packaged in a cool mini DVD style sleeve, full color artwork and a full color insert.
One word for you. Eyehategod. Or is that three words? Anyway, it's pretty obvious that Goatsblood are gunning to take EHG's place as the reigning masters of slow motion doom/sludge. And Goatsblood seem to have a much better chance than most comers, as they don't just ape the dirges that have come before, they add all sorts of random detritus to the mix, short bursts of chaotic blast beats and total spastic freakouts, punishing grind, genuinely somber melodies, creepy ambience and one of the most caustic guitar tones ever, searing white hot, serrated, dripping acid and thick as a pool of week old blood. Think Eyehategod meets Brutal Truth meets Khanate. That good.
From UK label Rage of Achilles comes this Canadian blast of molten sludge. Crushing downer-core ala Eyehategod, squealing feedback, slow motion drumming (with the occasional grinding staccato blast beat) and howling midrange shrieks. Heavy as fuck.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
LA stoner/doom metal with former members of Wool, Scream, Engine Kid, The Obsessed... Well, whatever, is it any good? Well, there's a great, devastating song called "Raw Curtains" which, however, is also found on their recent split cd release with Burning Witch. And then they do a cover of Free's "Heartbreaker" that maybe wasn't such a good idea, although they do it well. Fans should dig this, though, as long as they don't mind getting "Raw Curtains" twice...
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
"This is the record that Black Sabbath would have recorded if they were starting today" sez Man's Ruin & various parrot-like distributors. Well, I don't know about that! What nerve. If true, it's a good thing that Black Sabbath aren't starting today, 'cause this ain't no "Black Sabbath". Not that this is a bad record, in fact, for fans of the currently-burgeoning Sabbath-influenced school of stoner/doom rock/metal should be quite happy with this release. A supergroup of sorts, featuring ex-members of The Obsessed, Engine Kid, and Scream/Wool. Heavy, heavy, heavy, with a lot of rock groove and even some vaguely Ian Astbury-like vocals...
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Two of the LA doom metal scene's heaviest slug (and sludge) it out on this split release, with two songs each, of course played slow enough to make this a full-length! Goatsnake (featuring ex-members of The Obsessed and Engine Kid) even do a cover "Burial At Sea" by LA's godfathers of doom, the late great Saint Vitus. Sabbarific!!!
Godspeed are one of those rare bands who enjoy a slavish dedication from their fans, a nearly unrivaled level of hero worship style extreme fandom, the sort of thing enjoyed by very few others (Neurosis? Neutral Milk Hotel?), with fans treating GYBE like a post rock Grateful Dead or an alternative underground Phish, following them from show to show, state to state, hoarding live recordings and patiently awaiting the second coming. And by second coming, we of course mean the first Godspeed record in a decade! And ever since word leaked, that there was in fact a new record on the horizon, and especially as soon as the band started playing shows, and playing the new material, we've been barraged with requests for the new record, questions about the release date, months and months before it was actually released (heck, probably before it was even recorded). But here we are, and the new Godspeed is in fact among us, and we are pleased to say, it's definitely pretty goddamn great. We had actually cooled a bit on Godspeed, having LOVED their debut, and Slow Riot almost as much. But both Lift Your Skinny Fists and Yanqui didn't quite do it for us the way those first two did. This one though, is a whole 'nother story.
The record is split into two twenty minute tracks, and two 6 minute interludes, the two proper tracks are exactly what you'd expect, and want, from a new Godspeed record, droned out psychedelia, layered tones and soft swirls of melody, the opener all brooding slow build mesmer that over the course of the few minutes builds in lush billows of sound, before the drums kick in, and the song gains momentum, sort of Hawkwindy at first, before exploding into what sounds to these ears like full on psychedelic space rock, as in Heads, White Hills, and the like, driving, distorted, spiraling leads, swirling effects, propulsive almost krautrock like drumming, but it is Godspeed, so there are plenty of Eastern melodies, strange textures, lush layers, and after a bout of FX drenched wig out, the song gradually settles down into a slow fade outro, one that is pocked with bursts of psychedelic freakout and shard of abstract heaviness, looped and cyclical and gorgeously majestic, the final two minutes, near symphonic and utterly breathtaking.
The second proper track is much more subdued, the strings taking up much of the melodies, tinkling chimes over spidery guitars, and simple spare drumming, the sound dynamic and dramatic, but never quite exploding into full on freakout, instead just building and releasing tension, the way only Godspeed can. There is a bout near the end, where they again dabble in some psychedelic space rock, but it's Godspeed style, and like the first track it leads to another final few minutes that explode dramatically and tug on heartstrings, creating another majestic finale.
The shorter tracks are more abstract, droned out and minimal, textural and atmospheric, definitely gorgeous in their own right, the first, acting as a brief interlude between the two slabs of post rock bombast, the second, a haunting outro, a winding down, a fading out, after the sonic catharsis that is Allelujah!
FYI, the vinyl version of this is currently MIA, being repressed, so we'll have to list it another time, soon we hope...
The latest release from one of our favorite modern masters of drone and drift and doom and dirge, the oddly monikered Gog, who in Heavy Fierce Brightness, has composed two nearly 20 minute epic soundtracks for an art installation of the same name.
But regardless of the inspiration or ultimate application of the sounds contained within, Heavy Fierce Brightness is simply a continuation of Gog's endless sprawling exploration of some grim black space, a hellish otherworld, captured alchemically and represented sonically, a harrowing, harsh, blackly abject landscape of minimal low end thrum, and corrosive grinding glacial crunch, two slabs of slowly decaying melted metal filth, allowed to ooze blackly into great sonic tarpits of sound, audial black holes, their blinding black glow dulling all the colors around their slowly collapsing centers.
"Dragged By A Black Cat" begins as a hushed creep, a low thrumming drift, peppered with strange bits of scrape and clatter, the low end billowing up in great gauzy clouds, so low the speakers struggle to keep up. A haunting cinematic ambience, like the score for a descent into some great yawning abyss. Eventually streaks of feedback, and sheets of buzz are laid atop the throbbing low end, wreathed in electronic crackle, in gouts of tremorous glitch, building into a crumbling wall of cascading buzz and grinding crunch, the chaos and clamor gradually settling into a long bit of processed drift, a slow swirly sea of near static tones and subtle harmonic shifts, a Niblockian expanse of soft sumptuous swells and lush layered thrum.
"Heavy Fierce Brightness", begins much like the first side, some hushed minimal rumble, some ominous drone, but quickly the sound grows tense, a wash of smoldering buzz quickly enveloping the softly chiming minimal shimmer beneath, but that underlying melodic swirl, remains throughout, while the more corrosive sounds above, roil and churn like some storm swept sonic sea, the various layers coalescing into something strangely shoegazey, a warped undulating dronescape of looped and layered tones, of crunch and shimmer and buzz and whir, keening distant melodies, and lush rumbling whirs, all blurred into a slow shifting panorama of blown out black bliss, a muted harshness, that somehow still manages to soothe and entrance. The final stretch a series of mesmerizing slow burning swells, dark and deep, truly heavy dronemusic, a sound that is anything but minimal, a constant slow motion barrage of downtuned guitar crunch, squealing electronics, deep metallic reverberations, whirling layered tones, strangely textured thrum, gauzy ambience, all woven into a caustic and creeping doomdronedirgedrift crawl.
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES! Housed in a gorgeous embossed jacket, with original artwork by Colin Stinson (and featuring images of the HFB installation).
The return of these blackened psychedelic doomdrift dronelords, with their second record for Utech, and what appears to be the second Heavy Fierce Brightness record, the first being a limited lp only release from a while back, the soundtrack to an art installation (we still have a last few copies, act fast!), this one a new proper full length cd, this HFB further described as Spells Of The Sun, three new tracks, nearly 50 minutes of rumbling low end mystery and abstract avant blackness.
The ritual begins with the 8 minute sort of introduction "Spells Of Shadow", a smoldering sprawl of metallic buzz, and muted industrial throb, all manner of grinding metallic crunch, and swirling spaced out effects, the sound corrosive and distorted, but still hypnotic and soothing, a thick undulating black drone, the various layers surprisingly active, spinning off sparks and constantly changing tone and timbre, all the while underpinned by a hazy high end shimmer. Blackened dreamy dronemusic of the highest order.
"The Opening" unfurls yet another expanse of lush layered blackness, hazy and washed out and gorgeously mesmerizing, but before you know it, the song shifts gears and the band kicks in, pounding drums, distorted guitars, a sort of doomy lope, hypnotic and propulsive, wrapped around streaks of high end skree and feedback, then the vokills come in, SUPER distorted, the whole thing splintering into a blown out black squall, the main lumbering riff and rhythm still in place, but all around it, blackened clouds of crunch and chug and whir and buzz swirl and shimmer, a strangely pretty bit of motorik blackness. The metal fades out leaving traces of melody, stretched out into hazy smears of softly kaleidoscopic sound, some hushed minimal droney drift, only to explode once again into some dense doomy pound.
Finally, the 21 minute title track finishes things off, a sprawling layered dronescape, that shifts slowly from glassy almost new age-y minimalism, from soaring howling psychedelic squall to crumbling distorted doomdronedirgedrift, from keening high end ur-drone, to wild storms of swirling feedback and finally to murky minimal shimmer. As always, gorgeous stuff.
Packaged in cool oversized black and white four panel poster sleeve with artwork by Locrian's Terence Hannum.
Latest sprawling dronedoom epic from this aQ favorite one man band. For whatever reason, we always forget to mention that the Gog guy once did time in some other aQ fave heavies Unruh and Wellington, but for the last little while has been trafficking in something much more minimal and abstract, that would be Gog, whose sound is a constantly mutating black sonic cloud. While already a strange beast, Gog seems to have gotten even stranger here. Four sides, all spinning at 45 (although they sound even murkier and sludgier at 33!), the first of which begins with a long stretch of grinding metallic industrial blackness, like the hum of machinery magnified into a glorious drone-y din, occasionally coalescing into something resembling SUNNO))) like riffage, before ultimately fading out in a blur of muted shimmer. The B side introduces some spaced out jazzy drumming, a strangely out of pace shuffling rhythm, draped over a fog of blackened whir, the vibe very Necks-like in its spacey almost looped sounding mesmer, rife with swoonsome melodies, and a final movement that's all washed out lo-fi drift and click splattered low end churn.
The second record begins as a thick, caustic industrial dirgescape, again flecked with some jazzy rhythms, that continually shift, and at one point transform into what sounds like looped fills beneath sheets of whirring buzz, only to explode into a corrosive finale, all keening high end skree. And finally, the D side unfurls a blurred bit of gauzy ambience, the loveliest of the bunch, at least briefly, a very Tim Hecker-ish feel, that quick grows more corrosive and caustic, the drums come shuffling in, the sound growing more rhythmic, tribal and dense, laced with samples, the whole thing subtly dubbed out and heavily effected, making it a sort of tripped out psychedelic coda. So cool.
LIMITED TO 220 COPIES!! Pressed on white vinyl, and comes with a 33"x22" poster!
Every once in a while we'll get a disc in the mail, that has us intrigued before we've even heard it. Take Gog for instance. Well, to begin with, they're called Gog. Or so we believed. The cover wasn't entirely clear. They could have been called Sounds Of Battle And Souvenir Collecting, which is just as intriguing. The cover art is kind of trippy, a little bit spacey, still no sure sign of what was in store musically. So we tossed it on, and wow, nice, some sort of soft drifting shimmer, like signing bowls, bowed metal, deep resonant chiming over a thick soft backdrop of deep dark ambience. Another perfect late night drift record we're thinking, when all of a sudden the 21 minute long second track kicks in and holy shit, suddenly we're in a whole 'nother place, and it's not nearly so pretty and tranquil. A huge Earth 2 like riff, sprawled out and massive, a glacial low end crush, churning, downtuned and buzzing, each chord pulsing and throbbing, just as suddenly, some strangely beautiful melodies surface, and start drifting right along side the main slow motion riff, and suddenly it's both epic AND lovely, pretty, but ominously heavy, underneath, all manner of murky sounds swirl and whirl, a constantly shifting sea of drones and muted underwater FX, then again Gog knock us on our asses when the drums finally kick in at about the 10 minute mark, and the song transforms into some sort of lumbering sludge doom behemoth, the cymbals sizzling way up in the mix, the drums pounding, the riff more corrosive and harsh, monstrous and massive doom metal that unfurls even as it launches into action, subtly blissing out, until Gog's doom is heavily laced with My Bloody Valentine fuzziness and the sunburst blown out beauty of bands like the Angelic Process and Nadja. An gorgeously blinding blast of sludgy brilliance.
Gog is definitely one of our favorite modern purveyors of droning doomic filth. From the massive downtuned multiple o'd doom of�Noriah Mills to the more abstract but no less heavy split with Apparatia (the one with the metal cover we just reviewed, only a few copies left), it's as if Gog the man is on some hell-bent mission to explore the foulest pits of hell and dredge up the crustiest, doomiest, ugliest, foulest sonic ooze in existence.�
And we're fully supportive of this endeavor, as we're the ones who benefit. We're the ones with an insatiable appetite for all things grimy and sludgy, slow and low and heavy heavy heavy....
We got this slab of black ambient brutality at the same time we got the split, but we only got a fraction of the copies we requested since this one is already out of print. We have about fifteen of these in stock, so be prepared to leave empty handed, but at least the most fleet fingered amongst you doom obsessed will leave here with a big sick grin and an earful pockets full of oozing black beauty.
Four tracks, about a half hour, the opener is a stone cold black ambient doom classic, thick glacial slabs that shift and growl, pulse and throb, blown out and distorted, crumbling and overdriven, heavy and thick, but seeming to decay before our very ears. A gorgeous melancholy melody rendered in black tar and allowed to melt in the hot sun, clogging your ears and speakers.
The rest of the disc is not so distorted, a bit more tranquil, but with hints of the doom metal that lurks just below the surface, thick swirling washes of rumbling crumbling whir, chunks of fragmented riffs, doused in reverb and sent spinning into the ether, dense foghorn like swells, crazy hyper delayed and dubbed out squalls of hiss and static, snippets of distant percussion, whirring soft shimmer, all slowed down and smeared into glacial black blurs, settling at the bottom of your speakers like some sort of hellish doomdrone silt. Awesome.
And again, already out of print, only 15 copies or so in stock, once these are gone that's it.
In the early days, Gog, aka Mike Bjella, trafficked in straight up blackened drones, thick slabs of monolithic heaviness, but with each record, that sound got weirder, more difficult to classify, and more removed from that more primal, metal drone sound. This trajectory culminated in Gog's last record, Ironworks, which was mostly sourced from the sounds of the Bjella family blacksmith shop, and found Bjella fusing that early blackness, with something more minimal and hypnotic. We mentioned Aussie minimal jazz trio the Necks, and on the first track on this brand new self titled Gog record, we feel like we have to mention them again, cuz that track lays down a thick backdrop of rumbles and whirs, punctuated by a weird subtly distorted rhythm, over which haunting, melancholic piano drifts and loops, super moody and mesmerizing, those background sounds gradually building momentum, and slowly overtaking that jazziness, burying it beneath moaning sheets of sound, keening slabs of metallic buzz and clouds of gristly static, eventually transforming into something almost black metal sounding, maybe via Skullflower, a frenzied guitar riff, and buried vocals, blurred into a woozy blackened swirl.
Not all of the record is so subtle or avant, as quickly the sound evolves into something way more metallic, pounding, weirdly produced drums over more harsh vokills so low in the mix, they almost sound like white noise, while swirling all around, more black buzz, the sound gradually darkening and deepening and becoming a sort of feedback drenched noise rock doom, all plodding and lumbering, and at times sounding like a breakbeat slowed down to a near crawl. But still there's no way to pin down what's going on. The next track is a barely there field of static, a deem resonant thrum, crafted from sonic gristle, while the next track begins as a dark torch song like ballad, all lush sonic swells and female vocals, haunting and almost liturgical, before exploding, quite suddenly into some seriously muddy, muted, and blown out black metal murk. And finally, things finish off with some noise flecked, loping slowcore, the piano returns once again, wrapped around a laid back rhythm, the whole thing a dark jazzy drift wrapped in clouds of caustic noise, exploding in a final bust of churning heaviness, a howling black-psych frenzy still somehow underpinned by that moody, mysterious darkjazz. So good. Definitely recommended for fans of moody, minimal heaviness, and haunting, abstract, metallic minimalism. Includes a download code!
The return of the peculiarly monickered Gog, a one man practitioner of the dark musical arts, able to whip up huge swaths of drifting droney shimmer as easily as a crushing avalanche of corrosive slow motion riffage. More often than not some glorious grey area right in the middle.�
Here Gog is teamed up with the unknown to us Apparatia, who proves to be a worthy match up.�
Gog begins the proceedings with a 25 minute epic, blown out and buzzy, recorded SUPER hot and way in the red, a strange creepy soundscape of metallic clang, and huge reverbed guitar, not riffing, just sort of shimmering and vibrating, everything suspended amidst a barren sprawl of decay and delay, until everything explodes, and the track is transformed into an impossibly distorted, barely moving glacial wall of sound, the production so hot, the speakers seem on the verge of collapse, a massive spacious dirge that like other Gog stuff, manages to be lovely amidst all those jagged edges and crumbling chaos. Partway through, the guitars blur into just a long stretch of distorted whir, while beneath, the bass and drums continue to plod along, a strange slowed down groove buried beneath roiling clouds of fuzz. Gog finishes off his half the split with a little minute or so long chunk of random sound, peppered with vocals, a haunting little fragment of creepy ambience.�
Apparatia are in fact a grim buzzing black metal behemoth, who right out of the gate, first song, launch into some seriously grim blasting, super distorted and ultra sick, the vocals a demonic croak, the guitars a blurry buzz, the drums another static roar buried in the mix. But the band do mix it up, weaving haunting clean guitar interludes, with the harsh super affected vocals crooning hellishly over the top. Raw and primitive, and gloriously intense and brutal, the�vocals and guitars in a constant battle of the buzz, the recording quality sort of damaged and lo-fi, making for some Faxed Head like audio damage. Pretty fucking cool for sure. Definitely need to hear more from these guys. But for now, this is a seriously killer one two punch, one part slow motion sludge, one part grim, buzzing fury.�
AMAZING PACKAGING. A printed sheet of metal, black on silver, super heavy, like the music inside, text and images affixed to the back, the cd housed in a black and silver metallic paper sleeve, with mysterious blurred images and liner notes. Sticker on the front,�LIMITED TO 100 COPIES!!!! Each one hand numbered. We got 40 and that's it. Once these are gone, we will not be able to get more...
We haven't heard from Goliath Bird Eater in a while, a guitar and drums duo from LA featuring one Mr. Bobb Bruno as the axe wielding half. We were warned (or was it promised?) by Caligulan label head honcho Anthony, that this GBE was gonna be the heaviest yet, and just a few minutes in, and we're convinced. Whereas the last GBE was sort of mathy and freaked out, we compared it to a stripped down Dazzling Killmen, this new one is all slow burning heaviness, heaving churning guitars, sounds like an ocean of guitars, all tuned as low as they go, and unfurling massive swells of crumbling rumbling glacial heaviness. Eventually, the heaviness recedes, leaving something much more abstract and spacey, all processed guitars, swirling effects, very droney and krautrocky, fans of Expo 70 will probably flip, but best not be averse to heaviness, as they band slip right back into that churning roiling crush that started things off, before finally slipping into a slow simmering low end drift to finish off the first side. There doesn't seem to be any drums on side A so as he's credited with organ too, we can only assume that some of that heaviness could be attributed to some serious organ abuse.
The flipside starts off with another metallic riff, this one a bit more propulsive, and wreathed in shimmering organs, somehow melding some grinding slow motion metal with spaced out krautrock drift, pretty bad ass for sure. This side two doesn't offer up much in the way of drumming, other than what sounds like the click of a hi-hat keeping time, but it hardly detracts from the oozing sprawling heaviness, in fact if anything, the lack of drums lets the sound spill over in all directions, the main riff becoming more and more muddy and blown out, the organs and synths taking on more of the sound, until yes, the drums finally drop, and the song is transformed into some gorgeously in-the-red krautdrone space rock groove that definitely rivals anything you've heard from the various sonic space explorers reviewed elsewhere on the site. The music gets downright majestic, the drums locked in and motorik, the sort of jam that could, and as far as we're concerned SHOULD, go on forever. FUCKING AWESOME.
Killer packaging too, silkscreened and painted photo paper sleeve, with printed metallic gold cardstock insert.
Yet another guitar / drum duo! And man are these guys heavy as fuck! What do you expect with a name like Goliath Bird Eater? Usually when a band decides to go bassless, it seems like a really bad idea, and we always tend to think "dude, you guys would be SO much heavier with a bass player", but in the case of GBE, we're not sure what the heck they would do with a bass player. Every conceivable inch of space is stuffed with super pounding blown out drumming or crushing downtuned metallic guitars, or during those brief moments where there are neither, dense tangled squalls of feedback freakout. There are definite nods to the Champs, and to Hella, even though this is ostensibly a 'metal' record, it's definitely got a serious post rock vibe, especially the drumming. It almost sounds like a more minimal version of the Dazzling Killmen. Which is not a bad thing at all. Hard to believe GBE mainman Bobb Bruno once did time in indie rock outfit Polar Goldie Cats cuz man can he wield an axe like nobody's business. Be sure and stick around for the final 30 minute track, a dreamy, slow burning krautrocky bliss out, all droning keyboard and simple shuffling drums, that waits until the last three minutes to break out into some super aggro metallic bombast. Cool exploding veined octopus lady cover art too!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
We intitally got quite a lot of this high concept Record Store Day item (and we knew we'd want to list it if we could), but now down to about, like, just 3 of these babies, so act fast. Briefly, then, the idea here is British instrumental stoner-sludge rifflords Gonga (whose latest full-length, Concresence, we highlighted quite recently and sold a whole bunch of) teamed up with singer Beth Gibbons of Portishead fame (they're both from Bristol), doing a cover of "Black Sabbath" by Black Sabbath. Hence, "Black Sabbeth". Geddit?
The cover painting is a take-off on the cover to Black Sabbath's debut lp, the font for the logo is the same, it's a nice homage. Not much more to say, other than Gibbons acquits herself well - based on this, she could have a future as a witchy occult-doom metal frontwoman, for sure. And of course Gonga nail the music.
The A-side is "Black Sabbeth", while on the B-side you get a track, "Calumet Altar", taken from the Concresence lp.
Here's the third album from this all-instrumental Bristol UK heavy psych trio. It's been a while (like 5 years) since we last heard from 'em, they used to be on Invada, now they record for their own ToneHenge label... and they still bring the long haired Sabbathy jamming sans vocals in spades. Gonga are a chugging instrumental stoner-doom riff machine, with a mega-fuzzed guitar tone we can't help but love. They sound kinda like a cross between Earthless and UFOmammut, a little bit Gore-y too, all endless lumbering grooves, psychedelic leads, and spaced out FX. In other words, pretty killer. Metaphorically put this in your pipe and smoke it, you'll see what we mean.
Best line from Gonga's otherwise druggily arcane/philosophical press release about this album: "Their favourite colour is black or green or something probably."
FYI, vinyl version comes with poster and download and is limited to 400 copies.
Wally Gonzalez, guitarist from the Phillippines' proto stoner rock combo the Juan De La Cruz band, stepped out in the late '70s with these two newly cd-ified solo records, 1977's Tunog Pinoy and 1978's On The Road. They're not that heavy but do feature lotsa wailing Wally guitar action -- and wild/cheesy keyboard synth sizzlin' too. Wally fronts 'em both on guitar and vocals and although each was recorded with a different backing band, the two discs are pretty similar. Slow-burning mellow psych pop ballads are mixed with strutting boogie numbers. What titles there are in English are along the lines of "Rock & Roll Mama", "Wally's Blues", "Rockin' Roller" and, uh, "Screw". Neither album is as raw and gritty as the best of Juan De La Cruz, but this is still good fun hard rock and folky balladry, Filipino style, with a polyester '70s sheen that will either kitschly add to your enjoyment or perhaps ruin it totally.
Wally Gonzalez, guitarist from the Phillippines' proto stoner rock combo the Juan De La Cruz band, stepped out in the late '70s with these two newly cd-ified solo records, 1977's Tunog Pinoy and 1978's On The Road. They're not that heavy but do feature lotsa wailing Wally guitar action -- and wild/cheesy keyboard synth sizzlin' too. Wally fronts 'em both on guitar and vocals and although each was recorded with a different backing band, the two discs are pretty similar. Slow-burning mellow psych pop ballads are mixed with strutting boogie numbers. What titles there are in English are along the lines of "Rock & Roll Mama", "Wally's Blues", "Rockin' Roller" and, uh, "Screw". Neither album is as raw and gritty as the best of Juan De La Cruz, but this is still good fun hard rock and folky balladry, Filipino style, with a polyester '70s sheen that will either kitschly add to your enjoyment or perhaps ruin it totally.
What do Aidan Baker, Gnaw Their Tongues, Alkerdeel, Persistence In Mourning, Caina and Expo 70 all have in common? Well they've all released records on ultra cool Portuguese micro label Universal Tongue. And to that list you can add these guys, the strangely named Gorgontongue, one part Arizona black metal outfit Ganzmord, one part Oklahoma funeral doom horde Persistence In Mourning. Although the parts don't necessarily predict the whole in this case, as The Lighter Side of a Suicidal Mind is not in fact metal, black, doom or otherwise, instead this duo are exploring some grim, haunting, oppressive black ambient otherworld, blending soft noise, field recordings, mysterious murky effects, layered drones, much of this sounds like a prettier, less harsh Gnaw Their Tongues, sort of epic and cinematic and dramatically doomy, but also a bit like a more grim blackened Expo 70, that same sort of glimmering slow burn kosmische krautdrone, but laced with strange processed vox, crumbling industrial detritus, swaths of wheezing organs, buried barely audible rhythms, the occasional hellish shriek, tangled bits of detuned acoustic guitar, dubbed out electronics, ghostly vocals, woozy arpeggiated melodies, keening feedback, bits of Dead C like free rock drift, sprawling expanses of space-y ambience, various bits of crash and clank twisted and transformed into strange sonic streaks, rumbling low end pulses, crumbling walls of corrosive metallic crunch, tinkling chimes, all drifting through epic black expanses and dense squalls of psychedelic abstract effects-damaged buzz, culminating in the near meditative final track, a haunting, black ambient driftscape, hushed and haunting and weirdly lovely.
LIMITED TO ONLY 100 COPIES!!! Housed in a Blue Ray style dvd case, with a printed two sided front cover, and a printer insert / mini poster.
Last time when we stocked up on UFOmammut's Godlike Snake on the Beard Of Stars label, we also brought in a few copies of this second (new to us, released in 2004) album from English retro-rock stompers Gorilla. Consisting of two guys, including one who looks a heck of a lot like Ron Wood, and one girl who thankfully doesn't, this power trio remains unabashedly dedicated to good-time rock n' roll excess in the amped-up, fuzzed-out, cowbell-knockin' tradition of fellow '70s revivalists Fu Manchu, Nebula and Monster Magnet. Lyrics like "whoah-yeah" will be heard. SF locals Drunk Horse and Parchman Farm might also serve as comparisions. Of course, if you ask Gorilla I'm sure they'll say that what they're into is Blue Cheer, Grand Funk, Sabbath, Humble Pie, Free, Frijid Pink and other staples of the late '60s/early '70s stoner rock pantheon.
Channelling their heroes with enthusiasm, Gorilla pretty much veer between whoopin' it up on the fast songs, and grinding it out with plentiful psych leads on the slower, heavier tunes, or some combination thereof. There's a couple of longer cuts that also dabble in melodic, moody progness (even bringing in Mellotron and flute) but after each spacey interlude they generally start crankin' it again pretty quick -- which is good 'cause, well, we can't say that melodic vocals are their strong suit, unfortunately. But when they stick to the distorted, dunderheaded riff-dealin' on tracks like "Rok Orl Night" and "I'm Dirty", Gorilla live up to their burly name. If that's your thing, and/or if you liked their self-titled debut we reviewed in 2002, then Gimme Some... should prove to be an apt title.
Gorilla, as befits their name, are a heavy power trio from the UK. The band photo in the cd booklet recalls the Melvins (the photo from their "Ozma" album, complete with female bass player and drummer in horizontally striped shirt, but minus the cat), but a better clue to this band's brand of heaviness is the back cover, which appears to be a homage to the back cover of Budge's "Squawk" (a high-contrast photo of the band sitting on a piece of heavy machinery). Yes, they really delve into the Seventies thing, to the point of having extensive liner notes detailing all their authentic, vintage equipment ("a '68 Gibson SG special with P-90 pickups run through an early '60s Vox AC-30" -- that sort of thing) which wouldn't mean much if they hadn't truly managed to capture that early '70s hard rock sound and vibe, which they did. And they can play. Their fuzz-laden heavy riff rock might not be original but of course it's not supposed to be. It's about kicking out the jams, brothers and sisters! The ten tracks here all pretty much live up to the title of track one, the self-descriptive "Good Time Rockin'" -- we also especially dig "She's Got A Car" with its sped up Blue Cheer riff and MC5/The Who '60s beat energy, along with the plodding, Sabbath-riffed "Acorn Brain", and the crushing, spaced-out "Iron Ball", among others. Fans of the likes of Monster Magnet, Nebula, and even maybe the White Stripes should consider adding these throwbacks' disc to your daily listening dosage.
A couple customers suggest we track this down, the debut record from the Goslings, and from what we heard about it we were expecting yet another record of downtuned sludge doom drone, SUNNO))) / Earth worship, but man is this anything but. It's definitely heavy, but not typically heavy, or really sludgy even, which probably has a lot to do with the way this was recorded, ultra blown out and super distorted, sheets of crumbling high end and maybe the harshest crunchiest guitar sound we've heard in forever, but the Goslings take this white hot heaviness, this blown out brutality and somehow make it pretty, lovely, gorgeous even. Drifting female vocals and sweet sweet melodies are buried beneath a dumptruck of fuzz, like the a Mazzy Star record, covered by the Melvins, recorded by Merzbow or Masonna. Every track is hiding a secret center, a streak of lush melodicism that sound like bits of My Bloody Valentine, Jesus And Mary Chain, and huge slabs of warm and wonderful dream pop, all roughed up and dipped in tar and rolled in dirt and sent staggering through a minefield of razor sharp guitars, pounding Teutonic drums, all tangled up into a machinelike throb, trudging relentlessly at a snails pace, a head crushing plod wrapped in barbed wire riffs and a thick haze of violent whir, but still you can see a little glimmer, a shiny little wink from within the massively suffocating clouds of drum dirt and guitar grime, all tape hiss and recording grit and musical chaos, a glowing orb of crystalline shimmer, buried and barely visible, almost like someone was tossing bright shiny pop hooks into a pit filled with snakes and nails and used syringes and garbage and soiled diapers and rocks and dead animals. So is this the most gorgeous ugly record ever? The ugliest lovely record ever? The harshest, sludgiest pop record ever? The loveliest harsh noise-sludge record ever? Maybe all of the above. So good!
These (formerly) stoner rockin' Swedes didn't used to interest us all that much, until their last album Wolf's Return, where their previous sound took a terrific turn into epic doom METAL. Suddenly they sounded a lot more Viking! Dooming like blood brothers to countrymen Candlemass, Grand Magus gained new fans at AQ with that release, their power trio hard rock proudly wearing the leather and spikes of true metal.
This new album, if anything, is even more metallized, picking up the pace a bit (due to an eager new drummer?) on several tracks, galloping with the fervor of thee classic ass kicking acts of olde. When they slow it down a bit, we're hearing plenty o' the mighty Manowar, especially on the standout track "Silver Into Steel". Seriously good stuff. Frontman JB's manly singing remains strong and melodic as ever. His guitar riffs and leads aren't bad either!! Iron Will is proof that Wolf's Return was no fluke.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Second album of stoner metal from these modern-day Vikings. The singer's also in Spiritual Beggars.
Wow! We were never too taken with this Swedish stoner rock band before, really. Their first two albums were decent stoner rock, definitely heavy, but kinda generic and not that inspiring or inspired. Their 2nd album merited only a 2-sentence review from us. But this, album number three, we have to rhapsodize on about... We always recognized that they had potential. And now it's been realized. Oddly enough, by means of shedding their "stoner rock" identity somewhat and being reborn as a full on, leather-and-spikes *heavy metal* band! Actually, when we first got this, we thought they'd just jumped on the retro-metal bandwagon. And maybe they have. But it turns out that they maybe belong in the driver's seat of that bandwagon. Combining the epic doom of Candlemass with even more vicious headbanging fare, this is damn good -- nice n' heavy, and with some frickin' great *songs*. Guitarist/vocalist JB (also in the Spiritual Beggars) kicks ass on here, showing more personality than before. Is that what happens when you stop smoking pot? Well we don't know what came over these guys, actually, but whatever it is, we approve. Wolf's Return? If they weren't wolves before, now they sure are.
Stoner metal fans might already know this trio from the split 7" they did with fellow Swedes Spiritual Beggars that was released a while back on Southern Lord. Now, The Music Cartel presents their self-titled full-length debut, a heavy, bluesy stoner rock album
Grave Temple is another kick ass Southern Lord allstar matchup. Personnel-wise, it's basically a 3 parts of the of the ever expanding and sprawling SUNNO)))) whole, and it sounds like it. A power trio made up of Attila Csihar (Mayhem, Aborym, Tormentor, occasional SUNNO)))) contributor), Stephen O'Malley (SUNNO))), Khanate, Burning Witch, Ginnungagap, KTL, Lotus Eaters) and experimental guitarist Oren Ambarchi, who also has been spending much of his free time lately in SUNNO)))).
The Holy Down is a single hour long track woven together by Ambarchi from various live performances recorded live in Israel in 2006, and spends its first 10 minutes wandering aimlessly through a haunted junkyard of clangs, and clatter, creaks and chimes, the occasional chest rattling sonic boom, but for the most part, super abstract and spacious. But c'mon, it doesn't take long before things get heavy and creepy, with the guitars billowing into black waves, and Csihar's strange chanted vocals drifting like smoke in a temple. About halfway through, they veer into serious SUNNO)))) territory, with the guitars becoming thick walls of crumbling distortion and squealing peals of feedback. The band drones on before the drums kick in (that's Ambarchi on the drums!) and suddenly the track is transformed into a chaotic metallic tribal space jam that gets more and more frenzied, some almost blast beats surface but splinter into free jazz freakouts, the vocals become a death rattle, everything still wrapped in thick clouds of black buzz, until the song fades out in a blackened swirl of ultra creepy processed ghostlike voices...
LIMITED TO 3000 COPIES! Each one numbered, the ones we got are getting close to 3000 so like most SUNNO))) and SUNNO))) related projects, these probably won't be around for long...
Imagine the standard doom/dirge band to be a large rock, nestled solidly in the earth. Well, pry that rock up, tip it over, and see what slimy, wriggling, many-legged or legless creepy-crawlies squirm in the dark, damp dirt beneath -- that's the shuddering sludge sickness that Graves At Sea make sure you hear in their music.
We know a lot of AQ's sludge-doom lovin' customers are already into this band, judging from the number of copies of their split release with Asunder that we've sold. And if you live on the west coast, perhaps you've been a witness to one of their live shows, a bloody spectacle as we recall... LA's Graves At Sea (not to be confused with the equally doomy Buried At Sea from Chicago) take their doom way seriously. From the bulldozing, slowed down, headbanging riffage from the guitars/bass to the rasping, snarling, distorted, animal vokills of their singer Nathan (appropriately credited in this cd booklet with "hissing goblin tongue/evangelist of misery"), this is HEAVY nastiness for fans of Khanate, Corrupted, Eyehategod, Unearthly Trance, and all other heavy as hell, feedbacking freaks. Actually, let's look and see what else it says in the cd booklet about what some of the other Graves At Sea bandmembers are responsible for... we've got Nick on "sluggish wall of murky despair", Steve on "crushing storm of fire and brimstone" and Roger on "timbre of submarsh sludge". Heck they practically wrote their own review right there!
Four songs, half-an-hour. Originally a cd-r release from '03 (their debut recording), now at last on cd, adorned with much better cover art.
They're baaaack... well, we knew that already since we just listed these newly resurrected sludge merchants' totally killer split with Sourvein. Here's a new 12" as well! The A-side features the heavy-as-heck title track, a suitably caustic and corrosive doomdirge onslaught for which the only antidote is deafness - or death. The B-side is perhaps even more intriguing, as it consists of two Black Sabbath covers. The acoustic "Orchid" is seemingly quite a departure from the usual Graves At Sea sound, yet they manage to make it as creepy and foreboding as anything in their catalog, and even a serious Sabbath fan might not know it was "Orchid"; Graves At Sea's interpretation certainly much more sinister-sounding than Sabbath's original version, adding a sampled (?) voiceover and martial marching rhythm. Then, they blast into "Lord Of This World", Sabbath's famous riffs certainly recognizable this time, but slowed down a tad, and encrusted with megatons of filth. It's Sabbath taken to a blackened, abject extreme, Graves At Sea making the song their own, in other words.
Limited (1000 copies), very nice metallic gold-on-black packaging, includes download code.
Imagine that this split release is a see-saw, with Graves At Sea on one side and Asunder on the other. They're both so heavy that the teeter-totter wouldn't totter, but simply snap in the middle, leaving both bands sitting there, glaring at one another, having no fun at all. But no fun sounds good, if you like doom like we do. And both of these bands do the doom quite well, ultra low and slow -- so slow that just to make it through a song they need at least ten minutes (the two Graves At Sea tracks clock in at 10:45 and 11:16 while Asunder's contribution lasts 18:59) and you'll need a dose of anti-depressants. I mean, is this a split release or a suicide pact?
Graves At Sea (who had a cd-r release a while ago, but as yet no full-length cd) are from LA and basically are along the lines of Khanate, Burning Witch, or Corrupted -- nasty, feedbacking, hateful sludgecore, with a dreadlocked vocalist (known as the "bloody guy" around here) who spits out a screech like Edgy from BW or Khanate's Alan Dubin. And they're not to be confused with Buried At Sea, by the way, although both bands play music dug from the same charnel pit!
Graves At Sea make a perfect pairing with Asunder, who are the Bay Area's contribution to the "funereal doom" subgenre, aligning with the likes of Skepticism, Evoken, and Disembowelment. Majestic and morose metal played at a glacial pace, with both the use of cellos and the presence of ex-Weakling guitarist/vocalist John Gossard giving 'em extra dismal atmosphere. Their track here is definitely in the vein of their epick A Clarion Call album from last year.
Man, we'd thought that Graves At Sea were long gone, sunken deep into some pit in the ground, maybe playing their ultra doom dirges for the denizens of Hell at this point, but no longer active in our surface world. Turns out the band, in fact defunct since 2008, recently reformed with a new lineup, so they're essentially back from the grave (back from the sea?) - and here's a new recording from 'em, on a split with another hoary bunch of heavies, Sourvein, whom we haven't kept up with lately either, but are also are still kicking out the stoner sludge jams like every day's doomsday.
Graves At Sea take the first half of this split, with two tracks, each over seven minutes long, their blown-out, droned-out sludge stomp as forceful and abject as ever. Headbanging to this makes your skull feel like it weighs a thousand pounds. Their vokills are like we remember 'em too, a gruff shrieking gargle that sometime sounds witchy in a way - not witchy like all those sultry female "occult rock" singers, but witchy like a cackling hag putting a curse on you. (It's a dude singing by the way, we don't want to mislead.) Awesome shit, bad vibes you can rock out to.
The Sourvein half is awesome shit too, three tracks of their slo-mo, Southern Sabbathy sludge sound, pretty much as heavy but more spaced out and psychedelic than the Graves stuff, not quite so grim, the vocals a bit more wasted Ozzyish, the riffs and leads a bit more overtly classic '70s inspired - man, makes us realize we need to go back and check out the Sourvein recordings we've slept on - the last thing we reviewed by them was back in 2005, must rectify that pronto!
Both bands kill it here, a superb split for anyone into the sludge!! (FYI, there's also vinyl of this, we should get some soon...)
