The Saint James Society The Saint James Society
Tee Pee
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!
Having built one hell of a reputation as demons of the rock n’ roll dance floor, Finland’s Sweatmaster return to the scene with Dig Up the Knife, a curiously dark album that replaces their salacious flash with a ghoulish gusto. I mean, it’s still red hot and electric, as only Sweatmaster can be, but the songs on Dig Up the Knife don’t seem to pop with the same good time vibe as anything heard on any of their previous three studio albums Sharp Cut, Tom Tom Bullet, or Animal; the vocals have a more forceful bite, the hands clap with a sinister purpose, the rhythm moves with a skeleton groove. The idiosyncrasies that make up the Sweatmaster lingo have been tweaked just enough on songs like “Whose Side You On?,” “Nature Son,” and “Add One More Foe” to inject an unfamiliar heaviness into the usually upbeat, uproarious garage rock fuzz. Damn, I thought they were demons before, but you ought to hear ‘em now.
BXI, better read as Boris + Ian, is a seemingly odd collaboration between Japanese experimental/stoner/metal/drone/doom giants, Boris, and everyone’s favourite spiritual tambourine shaker (when he’s not wearing a track suit and pretending to be Jim Morrison, that is), Ian Astbury. Personally though, I was stoked when the news first dropped about this hook-up because it seemed to me that throwing a huge stack of noise behind the salty ol’ shaman might actually resurrect his inner love child. I think it’s done just that. The four-song EP kicks off with “Teeth and Claws” and sure enough, Boris’ slow, deep, melodious rhythm goads Astbury’s voice into prophetic incantations about love, illumination, renewal, and salvation. Then Boris drops a brutally heavy, attacking riff on “We Are Witches” as Astbury grows larger at the pulpit, casting an army of one thousand ravens into the night. It ends, quite fittingly, with “Magickal Child,” the all-encompassing comedown, a sweetly distorted lysergic ballad full of atmospheric soul, but not before the procession is interrupted for Boris’ Astbury-less cover of The Cult’s “Rain,” which is a stand-out here thanks to its truly remarkable psychedelic pop vibe and guitarist Wata’s ghostly, porcelain voice. The power of BXI is mighty, brothers and sisters. Let it compel you.