Please! Alert the authorities! I’ve been kidnapped by four or five glam-deathcore bands (there’s at least 35 people — hard to tell how many bands that actually divides out to be). I overheard between shitty breakdowns that it’s going to be at least until Monday before they all need to reapply their eyeliner, so it looks like I’m stuck for the weekend as far as opportunities to make my escape. Please, let someone know what happened to me so my misfortune won’t have been in vein!

By way of providing myself with some much-needed inspiration and pumping-up, here’s a live Grand Magus video. These guys could lead just about anyone into triumph. Hopefully they’ll be able to do the same for me.

See you Montag.

Waving out the open windows of a speeding supercharged boogie van fueled by riffs and secondhand smoke, Swedish stoner rockers Ponamero Sundown don’t care if it’s grass, gas or ass — everyone rides for free. As they issue their first full-length following several demos, the aptly-titled Stonerized (Transubstans), this fuzzsome foursome emit 12 tracks of classic ’90s-style stoner groove brought into the 21st Century with modern production and slick tones.

There’s a little bit of everything within the genre of stone, and even some elements drawn from without — the chorus riff of “Curtain Call,” for example, seems to be culled from Annie Lennox‘s “Sweet Dreams” — but mostly one can point to a riff or a segment and place it somewhere within the canon. “Rotten Religion” is a little darker, but “Live the Lie” sparks a bowl of And the Circus Left Town-era Kyuss and “Doctor of Evil” resonates old Dozer and Truckfighters‘ thoughtful neo-fuzz. It’s a balance of what you’d expect and what you’d probably expect a little less. Some Colour Haze-style guitar leads the way for “Intermission (Heartbreak Disease),” which ultimately warps into a The Awesome Machine-style build. Ponamero Sundown mix it all well enough to come out with an individual sound, if one well in place within its scene.

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Set your calendars for the heart of the sun, because blissful Oregonian psych trippers SubArachnoid Space (MySpace here) have a new album due out Sept. 22 on Crucial Blast. Here’s the news from the ol’ PR wire:

SubArachnoid Space shall return with Eight Bells on September 22, 2009, via Crucial Blast. The band’s first new release since 2005′s The Red Veil,? Eight Bells is the newest chapter in their continually evolving vision of music as ecstatic ritual. The recording features a new lineup of Daniel Barone, Melynda Jackson, Lauren K. Newman and Daniel Osborne and was produced by Steven Wray Lobdell who also performs on the album. Eight Bells continues in a similar heavy lysergic vein as their last couple of post-Relapse albums, fusing wicked metallic crunch with celebratory sky-streaking guitar freak-outs and some of the band’s most narcotized jamming yet. The album features five songs and bears stunning new artwork from Stephen Kasner.

A full US tour is currently being locked down and will be announced shortly!

It?s strange in considering the generally watery concepts behind San Franciscan epic stoner doomers Flood that the first and longest track on their MeteorCity debut, Native, would be called ?Aphelion.? The furthest point from the sun. The sun which is made of fire. Literally the opposite of water, which the other three songs, ?Dam,? ?Atlantis? and ?Water,? more or less have covered to complete the album. But, if there are thematic discrepancies to be noted along the way, one can hardly blame the burrito-friendly trio (four piece if you count Scott, who handles the fog machine). Judging by the riffs on Native, these dudes are baked like grandma?s cookies.

Although it?s only Flood?s first release, Native epitomizes everything that works about its specific brand of jammed out droning. I call it ?brown metal,? because it?s so heavy you?ll shit your pants. The guitars lead the way, of course, and are more distorted than fuzzy, but the massive pounding of Fink?s drums is not to be missed, and Eli?s bass lays a vast rumbling foundation that hooks the album into the stoner pantheon (see ?Aphelion? at 11:04). Sporadic vocals are transmissions from planet 11 that couple well with the occasional echoplexed sample and readily step back to let the riffs take charge.

?Dam? and ?Atlantis,? being the two shortest tracks at 6:19 and 7:36, respectively, follow less grandiose patterns than ?Aphelion? (18:29) or ?Water? (10:38), but have no smaller amount of breathing room. ?Dam? is a two-riffer from guitarist Amir the simplicity of which is contrasted by the amount of effects on the vocals and the sheer hypnotic power of repetition. It?s dive-in stoner groove set against a backdrop of trembling, dirty psych doom. Imagine your head, nodding. There you go.

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No, the fact that Saint Vitus has announced three dates on the East Coast in no way makes me regret flying to The Netherlands specifically to see them. If anything, it makes me even gladder I did. Now I know the kind of kickassitude I’m getting into by buying my tickets for the Brooklyn show. See you there.

Saint Vitus tour dates:
Oct. 16: Brooklyn, NY – Club Europa
Oct. 17: Worcester, MA — Palladium, with The Misfits, Type O Negative
Oct. 18: Baltimore, MD — Sonar

Fucking rule.

With its release earlier this month, the full-length Heavy Psych — as opposed to the EP of the same name, artwork and most of the track list put out last year — long running and vastly influential Californian psychedelic rockers Nebula once again join forces with Tee Pee Records, the label that issued their debut, Let it Burn, back in 1997. Back then, the trio consisted of guitarist/vocalist Eddie Glass and drummer Ruben Romano (both having recently left Fu Manchu), with Mark Abshire on bass, and though it’s been Glass who’s proven to be the central figure after all this time, the sound of Heavy Psych reflects — maybe closer than anything they’ve released this decade — the original mission of the band.

Call it stoner rock and you’d be right, but Nebula could fart into a microphone and it would be stoner rock. As they’ve grown, they’ve brought the genre with them, and now, with this seemingly full circle completed, one can only wonder where they can go from here. For Heavy Psych, Glass is joined by bassist Tom Davies and drummer Rob Oswald (Karma to Burn). This being the lineup’s first recorded output, Nebula sounds reinvigorated, but like their best, most together work is yet ahead of them. Still, the album they’ve just semi-re-released is an impressive start, notably in the three newest tracks added to the back end. They bode especially well for things to come.

After much rescheduling (and a special thanks goes out to Tee Pee‘s Steve Dolcemaschio for his diligence in making this happen), Glass and I hooked up for a brief phoner to discuss the band and how his attitudes toward Nebula have changed over the years. As always, the resulting interview can be found after the jump. Enjoy.

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Hell, I never even got to hear Shadow Kingdom‘s reissue of Ogre‘s second album, Plague of the Planet, and here today I read the news that their Sept. 12 10th anniversary show in their hometown of Portland, Maine, is also their farewell. Quite a bummer. Ogre were one of New England‘s finest traditional doom outfits. Shame to see them go, but at least they’re doing it in style. Here’s the story from StonerRock.com:

After much band deliberation and discussion, Ogre has decided that our 10th anniversary show (September 12 at Geno?s in Portland) is going to be our final US gig and, essentially, the end of the band. This decision to dissolve the band was not an easy one to come by, but we feel it is the right call. At this point, there is too much going on in each of our lives to sustain Ogre at the level of quality that our fans expect and deserve.

And, before people decide to jump to conclusions (as is often the case when these things happen), we want to make clear that this decision was entirely mutual, all three of us agreeing that this was the right time to bring things to an appropriate conclusion. We have accomplished a lot of great things during our 10-year run, playing with too many amazing bands to mention, recording three well-received albums, and of course, touring Japan last year. We are proud of what the three of us have been able to do (especially considering how little we started with!), and we thought it would be better to end things on a high note, rather than fizzling out, as so many bands do.

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Despite both bands playing a modern and often staggeringly heavy form of progressive metal, I?ve always compared Germany?s The Ocean and Chicago?s Yakuza in terms of situation more than style. Basically, the deal is both bands offer parts that are ball-rattlingly heavy and few songs that are actually memorable the whole way through. Likewise, both bands have developed cult followings who would say I?ve got my head up my ass for thinking that. Maybe I do.

Regardless, my pre-listening impression (read: prejudice) of Pelagic/Metal Blade?s reissue of The Ocean?s 2004 full-length debut turned out to be pretty accurate. ?Gee, I bet this?ll sound kind of like The Ocean does now, but less fleshed out and more intense.? Sure enough, anyone who got bored or whose mind wandered during the ambient parts of 2007?s conceptually weighty sleeper hit Precambrian might have an easier time connection to the Fluxion material. It?s still some pretty heady post-metal, but not in the Neuro-Isis sense, and hearing the hunger in the songwriting of guitarist/vocalist/songwriter/percussionist/Pelagic label owner/sampler specialist Robin Staps gives the songs a perceptible immediacy that some of their latter material, while much grander in scope, could never replicate.

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On their only EP to date, Eibon (Aesthetic Death), the Paris four-piece of the same name craft a brutally sludge-filled sound that runs utterly contradictory to every Francophiliac impression I?ve ever had of their home city. Because they play sludge and because vocalist Georges Balafas is a phlegmy screamer whose voice is well-suited to the lumbering riffs of guitarist Max Hedin, someone is bound to compare them to Eyehategod, but the two tracks included here, ?Asleep and Threatening? and ?Staring at the Abyss,? are far more atmospheric and not nearly as raw-sounding. There?s more happening here than Bower-powered riffs and Southern-fried nihilism.

Each of the two songs is over 10 minutes long, and Eibon gives a credible showing of diversity within the doom/sludge realm. Hedin, bassist St?phane Rivi?re and drummer Jerome Lachaud all used to be in Horrors of the Black Museum, and Balafas? past in Drowning shows through in some of his deeper growls, despite his generally keeping things in a mid-register rasp that comes off like a differently applied version of Darkest Hour?s John Henry?s indecipherability. By that I mean I don?t have a god damn clue what he?s saying, but it sounds like it?s hurting him an awful lot to say it.

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…But when you think about it, is there really such a thing as a bad day for free Clutch? The groovinest Marylanders have an exclusive non-album track called “Metroliner Special” from the Strange Cousins from the West sessions they’ve made available for free download at their website, Pro-Rock.com. I haven’t even had the chance to listen to it yet, but can only imagine it rules, being Clutch and all.

If you didn’t yet, check out The Obelisk‘s interview with guitarist Tim Sult here. Goes great with listening to free goo.

In case you missed the news, Strange Cousins from the West sold 13,000 copies its first week out, which is actually less than 2007′s From Beale Street to Oblivion, which debuted with 15,000. However, because since that time sales in general have continued to suck — plus that whole economy collapsing thing I keep hearing about — the 13,000 was enough to push Clutch into the Billboard Top 40 for the first time in their career at #38!

Congratulations to the band on this new milestone. If only Casey Kasem was still doing Casey’s Top 40 and could introduce the single, “50,000 Unstoppable Watts.” “Here’s a little song about anthrax, ham radio, and liquor…” Awesome.

Blah blah blah, Carcass reunion, blah blah blah. Get to the good part.

The good part was this year at Roadburn when Firebird (yes, and Carcass) guitarist/vocalist Bill Steer — who was apparently sick as hell at the time — started belting out songs through his harmonica, drummer Ludwig Witt and bassist Smok Smoczkiewicz throwing down infectiously grooving rhythms to match every solo, chorus and verse of riffy ’70s guitar rock. Shortly thereafter, with the release of the fifth Firebird record, Grand Union, the band proved the energy they captured on stage they could easily match in the studio, providing fitting covers of Humble Pie and James Taylor alongside original highlights “Jack the Lad” and “Wild Honey” while showing the retro sect there’s more to it than vintage gear and fuzzy promo photos.

Indeed, Grand Union‘s second greatest strength (the first being the songwriting) might be its modern sound. In the digital age of endless recording possibilities, Firebird sound natural, unforced and entirely void of pretense. As ever, the trio executes their material with a keen eye on hard rock’s lineage but both feet planted in the present.

Steer was kind enough to take some time out recently for a phoner to talk about the album, Firebird in general, and his plans for the future, including the revelation (spoiler alert) that he’s joined Gentleman’s Pistols on lead guitar. Enjoy.

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I’d have to go back and check the archives, but I’m relatively certain it was only like three weeks ago that Floorida (get it? Because Steve Brooks used to be in Floor? Ah, screw you guys) doom poppers Torche put out a video for “Across the Shields.” Fine, it was May. Even so, May to July is awfully damn quick for a band to be doing another. Maybe it’s because their songs are short so it doesn’t take much time to shoot them. Probably not.

In any case, here’s Torche‘s new video for “Healer” from the 12″ of the same name and last year’s Meanderthal, directed by David Kleiler, from MTV.com. Enjoy.

NOTE: As I was getting ready to finalize this post, I clicked play on the embedded video and found an ad for some fucking skin cream or something. Simply put, fuck that shit. No way I’m putting a video on my site with a god damn commercial in it that I’m not getting paid for. That’s called being a sucker. Bad enough MTV would put an ad in front of a video for a two-minute song, but then to expect other people to host it too? Get fucking real. Soon as “Healer” hits YouTube or somewhere that isn’t going to try and sell me something to get rid of pubescent acne, I’ll host it. Meantime, the video’s on the MTV site if you want to go find it. You’ll get no link from me.

Here’s a live version of the song instead:

If this is the kind of hateful madness that being in a suckfest band like Five Pointe O inspires, then maybe those one-time Roadrunner Records commerce rock non-priorities served a purpose after all. Bassist Sean Pavey leaves his common denominator past behind him with his new four-piece, Blackbeard, making up for lost time with nasty sludge and sandpaper-grade audio abrasion on the inevitable self-released EP, That’s Why They Call it Dying…, and though I’m not one for ending titles with ellipses, two minutes into opener “Breath of Life/Life’s End” and any and all punctuational grievances are moot. All that’s left is heavy.

You’ll note the part above where it says “sludge.” The thing about that is sludge is, by and large, pretty predictable when it comes to metallic subgenres. It’s usually slow, thick, underproduced and topped off with visceral screams. On that level, these Joliet, Illinois, locals don’t disappoint. That’s Why They Call it Dying… varies the pace of its attack, but the attack is still basically in line with expectation. Doesn’t take away from the immediacy of the songs or the effectiveness of the slowed-down mosh riffs of “Kidney Stoned” or “The Peasant Song,” the latter of which shows a Pantera influence not only in Robert Hughes‘ throat-stinging vocals, but also in the riffs of guitarist John Foster and the alternate time kept by drummer Dan Snodgrass. For his part, Pavey is appropriately rumbling throughout, coming to the surface to introduce a masterful Sleep riff on “The Reckoning” before diving back under the surface of the song to make room for the guitar.

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A little while back, I did a, “Hey check it out” type thing on Croatian doomers Good Day to Die. Well, since I just came across the more stonerly Stonebride, who hail from the same city (Zagreb), it seems only fitting that I do the same for them. Helps that they’re pretty good. Their latest record, Inner Seasons, came out last year. Someone out there needs to educate me. Is there a Zagreb scene? Does it rule? Were they jamming out to Sky Valley at roof parties on top of Zagrep?anka in ’94? One can only hope.

While I’m doing research (read: “dicking around on band websites”) , enjoy this Stonebride video from this year’s Stoned from the Underground fest in Deutscheland. When you’re done with that, hop over to their MySpace page and get a taste of “Moonrider.” It’s awfully tasty for a song with such a cornball name.

Though anytime I’m standing on the island of Manhattan, my mind automatically maps out the best possible route to Generation Records, the conditions that had me there yesterday — those being a day in the city with The Patient Mrs., as though an afternoon with my grumpy, lumbering ass is some kind of reward or break for her — prohibited it. A compromise in my head was a quick stop at Academy on 18th St., which I have it on good (and confidential) authority is where Spin sells their unwanted promos. I was hoping to catch an advance copy of that Six Organs of Admittance record I found out about the other night, and thankfully, she acquiesced.

No such luck on the Six Organs, but the thing about Academy is there’s always something in there, and apart from rarities, it’s all priced used. They’ve reorganized somewhat, splitting their CDs by genre in addition to alphabet, which is probably a good move in the long run if more of a pain in the ass to maintain. Flipping through the wares, I picked up the Neurot reissue of Tribes of Neurot‘s Adaptation and Survival insect experiment, the fancypants edition of the last Opeth record, which, boring though it was once past its novelty, is still Opeth, Prometheus by Emperor, and an accidental second copy of Dopesmoker. It’s the Music Cartel issue of Jerusalem I wanted. This was the Tee Pee digipak, which I already own. Easy mistake. Honestly I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before and wouldn’t be surprised if it happened again. Damn Sleep for being so desirable.

More of a surprise, however, was a brand new, still wrapped copy of Shaving the Angel by Midnite Snake on Birdman Records, which I’ve been eying over that the All That is Heavy webstore for some time now — and not just for the mammary-inclusive cover art, provocative though it is. The Pittsburgh instrumental trio play a San Franciscan freak rock that’s downright abrasive at times and alternates between tripping balls psychedelia and speed-fueled riffing. Oh yeah, then they have “Supermodifed,” which is a 25-minute cycle through what I can only assume is an avant stoner interpretation of how Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory might have turned out had Charlie gone to Slugworth‘s instead. Whether you’re putting a “d” or a “v” in between your “hea” and your “y,” you’re right.

I probably wouldn’t have bought it had I not encountered it in person, or at least not until I purchased every other wish list entry and impulse buy (which might as well be never at this rate), so for me, Midnite Snake was the find of the day. I’m pretty sure I won’t listen to it on repeat for the rest of my life, but when they finally show up to film that? remake of Beyond the Valley of the Dolls in my living room, I’ve got the soundtrack cued up and ready to go, and finding it only caused the slightest blemish on the whole “time together” thing. Everyone wins.