Set the Dial is the fourth full length from Savannah metal heads Black Tusk, and if you’ve had the pleasure of hearing either of their latter two, Passage Through Purgatory or Taste the Sin, you know exactly the kind of sludge covered punk you’re about to receive (John Dyer Baizley artwork and all). You see, like its predecessors, Set the Dial rumbles its way through murky swamp and crusty gutter to get to where you feel most safe and comfortable only to heap a hell of a lot of petulance and abrasive screams onto you. That being said though, as crumbling, noise-driven attacks, Black Tusk’s earlier efforts thrived on destruction, where Set the Dial‘s objective seems to be one aimed at rebuilding, at harnessing the rust-stained chaos in order to rise to loftier heights. They do this through the coy use of groove, which lays in wait on table-setter “Brewing the Storm” and then busts through the muck and mire to take over songs like “Mass Devotion,” “Set the Dial to Your Doom,” “Resistor,” and “This Time is Divine,” making Set the Dial‘s riff-driven focus the main, albeit subtle, point of difference. At the end of the day though, it’s another grease-charged album of Georgian origin, and one could spend an entire month getting filthy, high, and in trouble listening to Black Tusk and their mates of state, Zoroaster, Kylesa, Mastodon, and Baroness.
Matterhorn Vol. 1. The World Began Without Man...
Thinker Thought Records
On Vol. 1. The World Began Without Man…, Matterhorn takes the familiar destruction-of-human-civilization post-rock theme, splits it up into five stages/songs, and parlays it into a thick-riffed, heavy metal aural story. However, the Colorado trio (all ex-members of The Great Redneck Hope) forgo the more ambient, spacey, and experimental sound most instrumental post-rock bands employ, choosing instead to cash in on their namesake and deliver our demise through mountainous, fuzzy, sludge-leaning chaos that’s as much Karma to Burn as it is Russian Circles, but both will get you where you want to go when it comes down to it. It all plays out in about thirty minutes and covers mankind’s legitimately scientific impending doom, including volcanic unrest (“Stage One: Long Valley Caldera, 8:32 a.m.”), cyclones/typhoons (“Stage Two: Armada Storm”), whatever “The Currents” is about (“Stage Three: The Currents”), radiation (“Stage Four: The South Atlantic Anomaly”), and asteroids (“Stage Five: 99942 Apophis”), all of it a crushing and (at times) melodic attack no doubt laying the groundwork for whatever Vol. 2 is going to delve into. Probably an apocalyptic afterlife or something, who knows. You gotta get through this hopeless bastard first.
Listen to “Stage One: Long Valley Caldera, 8:32 a.m.” from Vol. 1. The World Began Without Man…!
This isn’t so much an album as it is a full-length concert movie with soundtrack. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to track down the DVD (their online store only accepts credit cards and I don’t have one, which is great for staying out of debt but shitty for instances like this), so I haven’t actually seen the film, which apparently consists of live footage and “vignettes that abstractly depict themes of corruption, destruction, and rebirth” while the band “portrays the Three Kings who are the silent watchers of their world.” Seems pretty groovy at any rate, which is Dead Meadow’s specialty, and the soundtrack certainly delivers in that respect. A mixture of old, live songs and new studio recordings, Three Kings is a psychedelic time warp of fuzzy, exotic, Zeppelin-esque boogie that bends and shines like a rainbow in a dope fiend’s mind. Stand-outs for me include the new song “That Old Temple” and the old classics “Seven Seers” and “Beyond the Fields We Know,” the album’s longest running, free-flowing, freak out jam. It might be a bit of a weird one for newcomers, but long-standing Deadheads (or maybe is should be Meadowheads) will surely dig this hazy collection.
Check out the video for “That Old Temple” from the Three Kings movie!
Black Tusk
Matterhorn
Dead Meadow