Mark Lanegan Band

There are times — not many, but a few — when I sit down to write about an album and know I’m not going to need to pull out my gonzo rock n’ roll thesaurus in order to spin my praise. This is one of those times. As one friend recently stated, “Mark Lanegan has no peers,” and, really, what more needs to be said? The musician’s work with The Screaming Trees, Gutter Twins, Isobel Campbell, Soulsavers, and others is well documented, but the landscape he’s laid out with his solo work is incredibly gorgeous and virtually untouchable. The majority of his recorded solo material is deep, dark, and gracefully tortured, but where the albums he’s released as just Mark Lanegan present it in a softer form, the Mark Lanegan Band turns it up and wraps it in a whole bunch of grit, fuzz, and noise. It’s been eight years since their only other album, 2004′s Bubblegum, but Blues Funeral picks right up where that one left off, turning drum machine chaos, savory sequencing, bluesy rhythms, and a malady of melody into something emotionally gripping and powerfully rock n’ roll. Of course, as with anything Lanegan does, it’s his voice that is the star, and Blues Funeral is no exception. His voice could sell me my own death and I’d buy it. And at least I’d be at peace knowing I’ve got an amazing soundtrack for the long, slow walk down. No one does it better.

Check out the video for “The Gravedigger’s Song” from Blues Funeral!

Earth

Having been locked up for about a year (since it was recorded at the same time as Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light I), Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light II finally meets its emancipation, and while you’ve no doubt got its dark, drawn out revelry already figured out, there are some differences to be noted between the two sisters. For one, II is only three quarters of an hour long, a good fifteen minutes shorter than I, despite the same number of songs, and in Earth terms, that’s a good spell. That doesn’t mean it feels any less shorter, though, and that’s largely due to II‘s more optimistic tone. If I was the descent, II is the ascent, punctuated by more prominent contributions from Adrienne Davies’ percussion and Lori Goldston’s cello, both of which seem to pull songs like “Waltz (A Multiplicity of Doors)” and “The Corascene Dog” toward the glowing embers of some distant fire. Much like I — and Earth’s last few albums before it — II is a dust n’ bones affair, albeit a somewhat more redemptive one, meaning it’s got plenty of that hypnotic Americana gothic sound worked into the band’s signature drone doom, but the way Dylan Carlson’s guitar reaches for something akin to a riff on “The Rakehell” is a subtle but dynamic move that reveals beauty and hope in the blackness.

Listen to “The Corascene Dog” from Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light II!

The Saint James Society

The Saint James Society are an Austin, Texas collective, all droopy hats and opulent jewelry, raven clad and ultra rad, who are just as likely to be selling fragrances at a desert bazaar as they are pushing garage psych in a dimly lit back room full of stony, armless idols. Thankfully, we get the latter (although it won’t hurt if you want to envision the former too), and despite the fact that their self-titled debut is but a four-song EP, it oozes with enough mystic mojo to melt the moon. Like a switchblade hypnotist with an Edgar Allen Poe mind, The Saint James Society taunt you with their BEAT, a tell-tale rhythm that drives the entire EP so that the acid drone and dark fuzz of its pulsing quartet (“Reflections,” “Of Silver and Gold,” “The Ballad of the White Horse,” “The Devil, An Angel, and a Broken Window”) fills up the very marrow of your bones. It’s a moving (dare I say sexy?) trip, equal parts style and sound, and will surely find favour with fans of Black Mountain, Quest for Fire, The Black Angels, and The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, as well as restless sinners and the terminally cool.

Check out the video for “Reflections” from The Saint James Society!

Behold! The Monolith

Bezoar

Corrosion of Conformity

King Giant

Orange Goblin

Rising

Bezoar

That’s it. You’ve convinced me, Brooklyn. You are now thee number one spot in the world for heavy, weird, fuzzy, psychedelic music. Okay? Hull, Elks, Bad Dream, Weird Owl, Children…and now Bezoar. I’m sure there’s plenty more rats crawling around in the sewers there that I’m not even aware of, but as far as I’m concerned right now, none of ‘em are bigger — or carry more diseases — than Bezoar. I mean, even their name invokes images of a mythical beast from children’s fables, and this three-headed varmint more than lives up to the hairy, red eye scares it promises. Expounding doom-infused wyt noize, Bezoar’s debut full-length, Wyt Deth, is a lumbering mess of feedback and mildewy riffs, a witchy, warbling deth-psych album that’s definitely hard to listen to, but surely impossible to turn off. Whether it’s the short and sweet allure of songs like “Burn Everything” and “Nikola” or the long and devastating hold of songs like “We Are Not Alone” and “Knight,” the whole damn thing is nauseously enchanting, and you might think it sounds like a dungeon full of hungry, dying prisoners moaning for sunlight, water, and mercy, but that’s just Sara Palmquist (bass/vocals), Tyler Villard (guitar), and Justin Sherrell (drums) laying down the most mystical stoner metal you’re likely to hear all year. Awesome stuff.

Listen to Wyt Deth in it’s entirety right here!

Corrosion of Conformity

Corrosion of Conformity’s 1985 Animosity line-up of Mike Dean, Woody Weatherman, and Reed Mullin made big news when they reunited in 2010 for a two-song EP, Your Tomorrow (Parts 1 and 2), mainly because Animosity‘s punk/thrash crossover made such a monumental contribution to heavy music and because it brought an end to C.O.C.’s five year hiatus after the release of In the Arms of God in 2005.* Of course, it’s the former point that garnered the most excitement, the belief that with Pepper Keenan still toiling away in Down, C.O.C. would lay aside its Southern metal sound and return to its influential, raucous, politico-skate metal roots. Well, gray hairs and lost years be damned because the new full-length, Corrosion of Conformity, finds the Raleigh, North Carolina trio in a fresh, aggressive, and loud way, chucking around thrashy riffs like empty beer cans. I’m sure it was never the band’s intent to recreate Animosity, which they don’t do by a long shot, but what they do do is spread their innate abrasiveness over several well-executed styles of metal to create a rush of dynamic anarchy. From the traditional blast of “Psychic Vampire,” “River of Stone,” and “Your Tomorrow,” to the motor-punk of “Leeches,” “The Moneychangers,” and “Rat City,” to the sludgy doom of “The Doom” and “Newness,” Corrosion of Conformity is utter mosh pit fodder, and Dean’s vocals are perfectly vile for such destructive enthusiasm. You know, it would have been totally reasonable to expect these bastard pioneers to be a bit out of step, but this is so on point that it’s worth your biggest broken-toothed grin…and a hell of a lot of spins.

*Even though it was the last recorded C.O.C. album, Mullin actually wasn’t part of the In the Arms of God line-up. In fact, that last time this trio appeared on an album together was 2000′s America’s Volume Dealer. However, Mullin and Dean do have another band called Righteous Fool.

Listen to “The Doom” from Corrosion of Conformity!

King Giant

No doubt garbed in the finest trucker hats and oil-stained denim, King Giant are a gang of handlebar ‘staches that play a Hills Have Eyes kind of hard rock, and the Devil help ya if you happen to stumble upon their Northern Virginia property by accident because I have a feeling you’d be staring down the barrel of a sawed-off shotgun wonderin’ when backwoods hospitality lost all its charm. While Dismal Hollow spews much of the same hog exhaust as 2009′s Southern Darkness, it’s also a much broodier ride, and all them wrecking ball riffs come wrapped in a down home doom that makes the album’s eight songs sound like a moonshine’d Danzig dragging a bloated corpse through the dirt and dry leaves. You might even say it’s dismal. And hollow. Oh, and if you guessed King Giant would be the kind of band to write songs called “Appomattox,” “Pistols and Penance,” “6 O’Clock Swill,” and “O’Drifter,” you’d be right, so welcome to the root cellar, victim.

Check out the video for “Appomattox” from Dismal Hollow!

Orange Goblin

If you’ve got a beard, own a bong, or ride a bike, chances are this year’s most anticipated release for you is Orange Goblin’s A Eulogy for the Damned. And why not? The band released its first six albums in ten years, and its now been damn near five years since 2007′s Healing Through Fire, so chances are you’ve got one hell of an itch to take to the starry highway to hit up OG’s cosmic dope show once again. But where the UK quartet was once raw and bloozy it is now cooked and mean, and the smoky caravan kitsch it once proudly boasted in its space-brewed riffs has given way to a prouder, louder form. In fact, aside from vocalist Ben Ward’s chain-link preaching, the Southern boogie doom of “Save Me From Myself” or the bold groove of “Return to Mars,” there’s very little left in the way of OG’s former scuzzy self, and what stands before you today is a tyrant fifteen stories tall, an angry world-eater with a heavy metal law to lay the fuck down. And this is a metal album in many ways thanks to songs like “Red Tide Rising,” “Acid Trial,” “The Fog,” “Death of Aquarius,” and “Bishop’s Wolf,” which is not something you could have really said about any past OG album. It is also very much a statement album, the aforementioned songs leaving the deepest cut, but even OG’s familiar stoner rock fare, like the melodic “Stand For Something” and “The Filthy and the Few” contain a demented edge to ‘em, and the acoustic-psych intro on closer “A Eulogy To The Damned” points to OG’s dark, force-fueled approach to making this record. If you’ve ever hoped that Orange Goblin would one day step up and make a power move, that they’d drop all that whiskey-soaked astro-noodling and put some steel and muscle into their tunes, A Eulogy for the Damned is your hope come true.

Listen to “Red Tide Rising” from A Eulogy for the Damned!

Behold! The Monolith

As proven before, Behold! The Monolith’s stoner sludge is for subhumans only, and it is on Defender, Redeemist, their second full-length, that the LA trio delve further into the subterranean, digging out their descent with sledgehammers, not shovels. Defender, Redeemist is rife with ground and pound riffs, and tracks like “Halv King,” “Desolizator,” “We Are the Worm,” and “Witch Hunt Supreme” are a glorious feast of mud pies and smegma cakes, each one belching out High On Fire fury amidst tremulous and atmospheric aggression. However, it’s on the album’s three longest songs, “Redeemist,” “Cast On The Black/Lamentor/Guided By The Southern Cross,” and “Bull Colossi,” that the band is at its most heinous, laying down an ageless, soul-sucking black metal doom that ebbs, flows, and screams in myriad glorious ways. Add to that Billy Anderson’s production work and Dusty Peterson’s art work (which kind of reminds me of a re-imagined Screaming for Vengeance), and Defender, Redeemist is one hell of a monster on so many different levels.

Listen to “Halv King” from Defender, Redeemist!

Three Wolf Moon

It helps to think of Three Wolf Moon as something like an old Native legend and not, as you might be immediately tempted to do, an homage to Three Dog Night or the ironic, cult-folk t-shirt design (which I’m afraid it is). That way, when you drink in its hazy, star-filled, electric splendor, you can stare at the sky for hours with nothing but an affinity for wandering spirits in your mind. Indeed, W is a three-song brain-tickler, a delicate odyssey of garage-psych obsessed with alphabetical stress, and its trio of  doubled-yous (“Water/Wine,” “Wetbrain,” “The Worst”) are indelible gifts of indie-freak you won’t soon forget. You know, there’s no reason this Canadian band, which features members of Black Wizard, If We Are Machines, and The Best Revenge, can’t run with the likes of Black Mountain and Weird Owl to whatever cosmic finish line awaits ‘em. And I’ll be on the sidelines doing my part by handing out the Kool-Aid when they pass by…and wearing that t-shirt, no doubt.

Listen to W (and download it for free) right here!