Red Giant
Dysfunctional Majesty
Small Stone

Red Giant have always been somewhat of an enigma. They disappear for years at a time and just when you think you’ve forgotten all about ‘em, they show up at your door one day, ten stories tall, clutching a sledgehammer in one hand and a cluster of planets in the other hand, a shit-eating grin like a chasm on their face. Then all of a sudden it’s like they never went anywhere at all, and the reason they’ve only put out two albums in the last eleven years (1999′s Ultra-Magnetic Glowing Sound and 2004′s Devil Child Blues) is because they’re thick-chested overlords of the cosmic mean machine with some heavy duty responsibilities, like riding high atop choppers of flame into the heart of interstellar battle, forging lunar wars in the name of universal dominion. Only when they’ve defeated their space foes and captured the black skies above us do they settle down to tell tales of their conquests via macho, bubbling, dope n’ roll songs. Their latest episode, Dysfunctional Majesty, is another batch of bad-ass biker metal blues cut from blood-soaked denim and bathroom walls, which means it sounds like AC/DC, Alabama Thunderpussy, Beggar’s Ball, Dixie Witch, and any one of Wino’s bands all at once, in case you’re having trouble remembering. However, dig the Clutch-like groove on “These Satisfactions are Permanent” and the Sleep-like doom of “Silver Shirley” for some new twists on their gruesome, galactic sound. Hop on board this one, friends, because it’s one hell of an awesome ride and who knows when they’ll be back around for another spin.

Listen to “Chopper” from Dysfunctional Majesty!

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Black Sleep of Kali
Our Slow Decay
Small Stone

Debut album from Denver’s Black Sleep of Kali, which, despite its name, is a furious force of sludge metal devilry that’s more whack-a-mole doom than it is a slumbering death crawl. And it’s no easy feat keeping up that kind of  eternal energy with an average run time of six minutes for the eight songs laid down here, but I suppose anything is possible when you’re drawing your annihilation inspiration from a dark and violent goddess. Right, so it all rolls heavily along like an avalanche of Baroness worship, but the sonic assault of Our Slow decay isn’t without its groovy riffs, hardcore fluctuations, and punk metal aesthetics either, which makes for a fairly dynamic, anarchic listen that will not only knock your walls down but will piss on your rug, too. Definitely a big-balled gut bucket of bubbling black action, this one.

Listen to “The Crow and The Snake” from Our Slow Decay!

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Gozu
Locust Season
Small Stone

I don’t know if Gozu got their name from the bizarro Japanese film or not but I’m just gonna go ahead and assume they did because it makes ‘em that much better, brother. Grand theater of perversion and fear? You better believe it. Some of the song titles on Locust Season, their Small Stone debut, read like a ransom note cut from a 1980s TV Guide (“Regal Beagle,” “Kam Fong As Chin Ho,” and “Jan-Michael Vincent”) while some could be contents found in any serial killer’s tickle trunk (“Meth Cowboy,” “Jamaican Luau,” and “Meat Charger”). They might as well be singing about Yakuza attack dogs or bottles of breast milk or a soup ladle up the ass is what I’m getting at here, man, and with the lo-desert chicanery blasting away behind it all, I feel like all four walls are closing in on me fast and hard. The whole damn deal is raw, reeks of rancid rubber, and is as rough n’ tumble as a Boston bar brawl. Imagine a heavier Queens of the Stone Age with the sun-kissed flavour of Fu Manchu, the motorcycle madness of Valis, and the time traveling blues of Orange Goblin, and you’ve got yourself the gonzo glory of Gozu. A dope album in every sense of the word.

Listen to “Jan-Michael Vincent” from Locust Season!

Buy Locust Season from Small Stone!