Orange Goblin
A Eulogy for the Damned
Candlelight Records

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!

Jesse Sykes & The Sweet Hereafter
Marble Son
Station Grey Records

At first listen, especially to one of her earlier albums, like Reckless Burning, Oh, My Girl, or Like, Love, Lust and the Open Hallways of the Soul, you wouldn’t think that Jesse Sykes would become a desirable figure in the world of heavy music (although she does look like a raven-haired mistress of the night), but thanks to her collaboration with Boris and SunnO))) on “The Sinking Belle” from Altar, the alt-country/indie singer/songwriter has made a name for herself amongst weirdos and beardos alike. In fact, she’s toured with bands like Earth and Black Mountain, and played at Roadburn, so whether it seems like a natural fit or not, the dark side has embraced Sykes, and now on her latest release, Marble Son, she’s embraced it right back. Truth be told, Sykes’ music (which she’s always made with longtime musical partner Phil Wandscher) has always contained darker elements, but never has that been more evident than on Marble Son, which sheds the alt-country vibe of albums past for a more psychedelic feel of melancholic finger-picking, mystical strumming, and distorted magic. In fact, all of that can be found on the eight-and-a-half-minute opener, “Hushed By Devotion,” which sets the tone for the rest of the album by acting as a giant rabbit hole into which you fall, and once the title track and “Come to Mary” sink their elegant claws into you, you’re adrift on the foggy river of Sykes’ wonderland of sorrow and beauty, and there’s no turning back. And that’s saying nothing of the addictive potion that is her voice, a kind of whiskey-owned siren call of hypnotic splendor that will toss you into thralldom on such songs as “Be it Me, Or Be it None” and “Wooden Roses.” Masterful stuff, really, as electric and powerful as it is lovely and languid, bound to nothing but its bold, broad appeal.

Listen to “Come to Mary” from Marble Son!

Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan
Hawk
Vanguard Records

Yeah, okay, so the folksy, sultry tunes of Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan don’t exactly fall in with the rank and file of doom, metal, and stoner rock that you usually find around here, but the fact of the matter is — if you don’t know this already — Lanegan is a bad-ass, whiskey-voiced deity in the Broken Beard universe. The guy could put out a polka record and I’d still tell you about it because everything he touches (Screaming Trees, The Gutter Twins, Soulsavers, etc.) turns to pure grit, which is what makes his collaborations with Isobel Campbell so great. She, former member of indie pop band Belle & Sebastian, is innocence incarnate, the Scottish girl-next-door with the porcelain voice, and he is the brooding American desperado at the end of the bar. Put ‘em together and you get an old suitcase full of black and white photographs, tear-stained love letters, faded memories, long distance calls from a phone booth in the middle of nowhere, and wordless nights on a porch swing. Hawk, their third album together, is a whole barn full o’ jukebox flare, rustling up a roving range of country-folk, blues, soul, gospel, and Americana, calling to mind the eras and auras of Cash and Carter, Dylan and Baez. Campell’s songwriting on Hawk is utterly moving, playing emotion better than any instrument on the album, and is at once light, languid, deep, and desolate. To help the mood along, the album also offers a few Townes Van Zandt covers and a couple of appearances by Willy Mason. But, as always, this is the Campbell and Lanegan show, which continues to be the strangest, most beautiful show on earth.

Check out the video for “You Won’t Le Me Down Again” from Hawk!