One day they’ll erect a rock n’ roll pantheon dedicated to attitude and sound instead of social stature and sales. It’ll be a natural history museum of sorts; neanderthals in motorcycle boots; a hall of beards; denim through the ages (its brilliance lies in its resiliency); stuffed herds of tattooed buffalo. And they, whoever they are, would be best served to hire Tony Reed as curator. Reed, best known as a musician and producer, is also a rock n’ roll preservationist. It’s not an accredited title, but it is a state of mind, a way of life, and it is in this capacity that Reed can approach his other duties with the respect they are owed.

Hence, Stone Axe. Reed’s band, founded in 2007 in Port Orchard, Washington and in which he does most of the studio work less the vocals (he leaves that duty up to friend Dru Brinkerhoff), is a nuts n’ bolts (that’s balls n’ lightning, baby) testament to rock’s classic aesthetics. Reed’s obsession with the heaviest, meanest, choicest, and oft obscure bands of the ’60s and ’70s infuses his songwriting with a golden, hairy-chested gusto. His old band, Mos Generator, sold the skies as a rocket fueled entity, a cosmic druggernaut of futuristic proportions, but Reed ultimately succumbed to Earth’s gravitational pull, and the urge to write dirt and mortar songs for past Gods was too strong to ignore.

Since its birth, Stone Axe has released two full-lengths, a 10″ EP, three 7″ singles, and a split with Sun Gods in Exile, proof that Reed’s work ethic is as relentless as his music. In fact, the start of this interview was delayed until Reed could return from working in Texas with Blood of the Sun. So there you go; he even goes whole hog for other bands, too. But the great preservationist finally put aside his craft for a moment to talk to me about his favourite songs of all time, his vinyl collection, what’s next for Stone Axe, playing the Wurlitzer, and, of course, beards.

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Well, I guess we’ve finally reached that moment, but before I reveal my favourite song and album of the year, I do want to give out consolatory honours to some albums and songs that, had I been ranking things this year, would’ve been right up there at the top, competing for bearded glory. I’ve already mentioned Black Mountain’s Wilderness Heart, Sweet Apple’s Love & Desperation, Dirty Sweet’s American Spiritual, and The Kings of Frog Island’s III, all of which should be highlighted, but I want to add the following albums and songs into their company…

High On Fire’s Snakes for the Divine, The Sword’s Warp Riders, Year of No Light’s Ausserwelt, Agalloch’s Marrow of the Spirit, Tweak Bird’s Tweak Bird, Souvenir’s Young America’s The Name of the Snake, and The Adjusters’ Reckless Relations. Every single one of ‘em is highly recommended.

Shit, I don’t think I can stop there. Okay, let’s also add Night Horse’s Perdition Hymns, Alcest’s Écailles de lune, Dead Trooper’s Cynicist, Brother Dege’s Folksongs of the American Longhair, Trap Them’s Filth Rations, the Melvins’ The Bride Screamed Murder, Electric Wizard’s Black Masses, Torche’s Songs for Singles, Violent Soho’s Violent Soho, Daughters’ Daughters, and Year Long Disaster’s Black Magic; All Mysteries Revealed. I could probably keep going, but these stand-outs will have to do.

As for songs, there was Black Mountain’s “The Hair Song” and “Sadie,” and Sweet Apple’s “Do You Remember,” and “Flying Up a Mountain,” but there were two others I had a tendency to play over and over again all year long, and those were Against Me!’s “Spanish Moss” and The Sword’s “Night City.”

But now, let’s just get this damn year-end thing over with…

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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!

Buy Dysfunctional Majesty from Small Stone!