Omega Massif

The moment you begin listening to an Omega Massif album, there’s not a heavier, darker moment occurring anywhere else in the world; it was true of their 2006 debut EP Kalt, it was true of their 2007 debut full-length Geisterstadt, and now the same can be said for their latest album, Karpatia. Knowing the kind of power Omega Massif is capable of harnessing, I feared putting the headphones anywhere near their desired mark lest my skull succumb to the inevitable decibel rape and cave in upon first riff impact. To say the German instrumental band is crushing is an understatement. Many will label ‘em drone sludge, post-metal, or atmospheric doom, but each of those are just rusty links in the thick chain tied to the ten ton anchor that is their sound, which rests in the deepest part of the ocean’s black crevices, a place still and breathless, a place untouched by humanity. Whether drenched in feedback, antagonizing you with its gentler, swelling passages, or unleashing a resounding and brutal assault of monolithic proportions, Karpatia is stone cold terror. You might want to think about finding a happy place with strong walls before you drop the needle on this one, man.

Listen to “Wölfe” from Karpatia!

C’mon

The Mountain, the new four-song 10″ from C’mon, Canada’s premiere bleary-eyed bastards of fuzz, kicks off with the longest, most ambitious song the band has ever laid down. Until now, the seven-minute track “Fortress of the Night” from 2010′s Beyond the Pale Horse held that distinction, but this here title track, which commands all of side A, clocks in just shy of 12 minutes, and reaches an epic and dangerous precipice the band had only previously admired from afar. C’mon has built an outstanding reputation as a band that can move a mountain by sheer rawk force alone, but this time they do us one better and scale the entire fucking thing in a burnt-out van, blowing dirty exhaust the entire way, planting their tattered flag at the top when they land. What they unleash on the world below is a spacey rumble of arena bravado and prog-crunch, a steady build-up of monolithic metal like a giant analog amp rising up from behind the fires of the sun. Musically, “The Mountain” is more dense and layered than anything C’mon has done in the past* and that kind of studio presence/trickery continues as the band bounds on down the back side in its usual muddy-riffed fashion, turning thrusters on high and heavy with “It’s Alright,” the wonky instrumental “The Grunge,” and a cover of The Osmonds’ “Crazy Horses,” a pretty weird beard song to begin with that is given a special kind of supercharged Blurtonian treatment here. Okay, I know you’re waiting for me to say it, so here it is: C’mon does it again.

*Singer/guitarist Ian Blurton has said in an interview that at one point in the song there are two versions of the band playing against each other, so two drum kits, two basses, and about 25 guitars, which he called a tribute to Voivod’s Piggy and Thin Lizzy’s Gary Moore.

Listen to “The Grudge” from The Mountain!

Premonition 13

And here we are with Scott “Wino” Weinrich’s latest band, Premonition 13. The last couple of years saw the DOOM LEGEND without a band as he collaborated with friends (and legends in their own right) Al Cisneros, Scott Kelly, and Dale Crover in Shrinebuilder and released a couple of solo albums, including the acoustic effort Adrift. But now the man who’s left a trail of awesome bands behind him like no other is back in front of a stack once again with long-time friend Jim “Sparky” Karow, with whom he’s been jamming in the California desert since his days in The Obsessed. Well, the two have taken the fruits of those labors, and a mutual interest in magnetism, Mesoamerican history, and ancient cultures, and poured it into 13, a psych-doom tapestry of simple, heavy riffs and acid-fried grooves. It is, obviously, distinctly Wino, meaning songs like “Hard to Say,” “Clay Pigeons,” and “La Hechicera de la Jeringa” contain the captivating menace of fireside stories told by the most respected, feared, and battle-scarred elder/warrior of the tribe, but there are times when Wino finds himself treading some weird n’ wild territory, like on the nine minute opener “B.E.A.U.T.Y.,” “Senses,” and “Peyote Road,” each of ‘em altered states of a proud, monolithic craft. Also of note is the way Premonition 13 dips their long grey hair into Motörhead’s dirty pool on the bloozy, tongue-in-cheek tune “Deranged Rock N’ Roller,” the daringly melodic “Modern Man,” in which Wino’s vocal prowess shimmers with the slightest pop sensibilities, and the fact that, with the exception of Shrinebuilder, this is the first time Wino hasn’t completely owned guitar duties in a band, and the consequence of freedom is evident. For some, Premonition 13 might be just another Wino band, but it sounds to me like the cult hero who left blood-drawn paintings on cavern walls all those years ago has returned to reveal their true meanings.

Listen to “La Hechicera de la Jeringa” from 13!

Ufomammut
Eve

Ufomammut’s fifth album, Eve, is one chilling 45 minute possession separated into five movements, and its affection is wholly and shamelessly UNGODLY. When the music isn’t whispering to you in forked tongues and taunting you with an unnerving drone, it’s driving the heavy, black riff of DOOM right through your frayed soul. It’s a hellish soundscape of caverns and creatures in cloaks, punctuated by crimson spasms of cosmic catastrophe. What I’m getting at here is that this album is the aural equivalent of what would be going through your mind if you sliced open your inner thigh and watched the blood slowly drain out of your body until the darkness enveloped you, and should finally earn these evil Italians their own spot in the amp-worshiping cabal alongside monolithic motherfuckers like OM, Sunn O))), Earth, Boris, and the rest. Unkind stuff, man.

Listen to “Eve Pt. IV” from Eve!

Year Long Disaster
Black Magic; All Mysteries Revealed

It’s always a real pain in the ass when someone tries introducing me to a band by saying, “they’re the best band you’ve never heard of” and that’s mostly because I have heard of them, and merely suggesting I haven’t heard of them insinuates that I, unlike the much cooler, more maligned you, have my bearded head buried deep inside the business end of a pregnant alpaca.

That being said, Year Long Disaster is the best band you’ve never heard of.

I know. I’m such a dick. But forget about that right now and just pay attention.

YLD are a Californian trio with a world class pedigree and an outlaw swagger, which means if they roll on up to you and demand your money, guts, first born, or best pair of black boots, you don’t have a choice but to hand them over, Jack. Their ’07 self-titled debut was a fuzzy, monolithic, tail pipe-sucking, stoner rock motherfucker, perfect for those stuck-in-Altamont nights, but Black Magic is much, much sexier. Of course, I don’t need to tell you that all good parties involve fist fights and fucking, so the end result is the same bloody fun mess. I just mean that YLD have dipped their big, groovy balls in gold dust and champagne, baby, and Black Magic smells and sounds like goddamn success. They’ve conjured up a big load of awesome trouble here by fusing the feral stomp of Raging Slab, the sparkling sweat of Urge Overkill, the gnarly demeanor of Sonny Barger, and the witchy wonder of the supernatural. “Show Me Your Teeth,” “Love Like Blood,” and “Stranger in My Room” are the best boogie-fried bastards of the bunch, but dig the Zeppelin-flavoured “Seven of Swords” and the cosmic vibes of “Foggy Bottom” for some righteous variations on the dirty, desert rock theme.

Consider yourself in-the-know. Now go forth and educate the masses. Rock one million asses. Year Long Disaster will soon be the best band everyone’s heard of.

Listen to “Love Like Blood” from Black Magic; All Mysteries Revealed!