It’s not every day I get to write about a band from what’s essentially my own back yard. Space-riffing foursome Eternal Fuzz make their home in New Brunswick, New Jersey, which is about half an hour south on the Parkway from where I currently sit. It’s a college town, hosting the main campus of Rutgers University, and from what I can tell from the (somehow appropriately) fuzzy video above, the double-guitar outfit is pretty young.

Far more revealing about Eternal Fuzz though is their summer 2011 demo, which is currently available for streaming on their Bandcamp page. With warm low end and ghostly echoing vocals, shades of Om meet with a kind of miniaturized riffy splendor and Torche-esque brevity on “Vexed by the Curse of the Sloth,” which sounds short at just three minutes.

I’d be surprised if the demo wasn’t recorded live, since it comes off so much that way, but rough production becomes part of the band’s character by the end of the five songs, and with the striking build of “Moody Hum” acting as a centerpiece, Eternal Fuzz show a surprising amount of clarity for an act who should still just be getting their bearings sound-wise.

For that, I’m happy to include them in the same school of formative NJ acts like sludge villains Dutchguts and bass/drum duo The Badeda Ladies, who both also have growing to do but are making a strong start. Here’s Eternal Fuzz‘s demo if you want to check it out:

Not to be confused with the Swiss heavy prog trio from the early ’70s, the Tempe, Arizona-based six-piece TOAD‘s moniker is meant as an acronym for Take Over and Destroy, and seems as well to be a statement of their methodology. Their debut EP, titled Rotten Tide, blends a variety of styles from bombastic hardcore metal to post-Mastodonic technicality, and — perhaps most curiously of all — a preference for analog recording that’s almost entirely absent from the larger scope of modern metal.

Rotten Tide sounds modern, and though parts of centerpiece “Embody the Ghost” speaks to some affection for retro doom in its horror spookiness, the song itself quickly moves away from that and TOAD are, on the whole, working within a different aesthetic. Vocals from Andy Leemont come in abrasive and layered shouts over the guitars of Nate Garrett (who seems to have replaced Dan Labarbiera) and Alex Bank Rollins, and are clearly metallic in their origin, and yet Pete Porter‘s mellotron seems to add a backwards-looking flair that’s not incongruous with what the band are doing only because they mix it so well into their own context.

And as for recording analog — aside from the snobby prestige of being able to say you did it, it doesn’t really do much for your sound if you’re making something as metal as Rotten Tide — but as it’s genuinely a more arduous process, it says something that TOAD did it anyway and, along with their use of “all vintage gear from the ’60s and ’70s,” it seems to speak to the same kind of genre-straying ideology that drives “Embody the Ghost.” They’re still very metal, and at times border on black ‘n’ roll, but the band — who are just starting out and whose lineup is rounded out by bassist Trey Edwin and drummer Shane Taylor — have potential to develop in any number of sonic directions.

If you’d like to find out for yourself, they’ve put all of Rotten Tide up for streaming on their Bandcamp page, and also have a split release available through Boue Records with Drone Throne, with whom they share Rollins and Leemont. They’re also on Thee Facebooks, if that’s your thing. Here’s the whole of Rotten Tide, courtesy of the former:

Burly-as-fuck British foursome Peacemaker announce their coming with the song “The Siberian Problem.” The track is taken from their already-recorded debut and in just over four minutes, manages to give a pretty solid idea of what they’re all about, which seems to be stomping your ass with a foot made out of sludge-riffed metal. Some might recognize vocalist Al Osta from his role as the post-Ben Ward frontman of Ravens Creed, and backed here by gang shouts of “blood, and, soil!” he’s in solid and throaty form, if a little high in the mix.

Nonetheless, being someone who considers himself as having roots more in extreme metal than not, I was stoked to see Peacemaker shares a similar experience, culling together Sam Taylor and Rich Maw of the death metal outfit Infliction with Osta and bassist Al Lawson, both of Satanic Fatwa. “The Siberian Problem” is doomed by definition and by design, but there’s an intensity behind its groove that one could probably trace back to deathly dealings if one had time before the punch of the song landed. Which one doesn’t. Why do I keep saying “one?”

Whatever. Thanks to Peacemaker for getting in touch and sharing their issues with the Russian wilderness. If you want to check them out, do so at their Bandcamp or their Thee Facebooks, and feel free to stream “The Siberian Problem” below, courtesy of the former:

I have the feeling that if my geographical situation was different and I lived on the other side of the country, I probably would’ve heard Rye Wolves by now. Maybe literally, given the loudness that seems to come across on their three-song Species Battle in the Branches full-length, which was released earlier this year. The Eugene, Oregon, trio meld neo-psychedelic bombast with post-metal’s inhuman tonality, finding room in the 23-minute “Malnutrition Bends the Beak” to go all USBM for a little while. What it all rounds out to is a heady and crushing sonic mix that loses nothing in atmosphere for its heft and occasional foray into the maniacal.

Some mid-period Neurosis sway arises in eight-minute opener “Tearing at the Shapes,” but I wouldn’t put Rye Wolves in the post-metal category outright before I’d put them in three or four others, among them doom and whatever it is we’re calling angular sub-technical Mastodonic noise riffing this week. Vocals are harsh but varied, shouts and screams permeate thick tones and complex structures, highlighting an energy pulsing through Species Battle in the Branches, which is Rye Wolves‘ second release behind the less-distilled 2008 debut, Oceans of Delicate Rain.

The primary difference between the two releases seems to be that on the newer, the ideas have better blended together to create a whole, so that the beginning of “Hey David” will be rife with ethereal post-rock guitar echoing, the end will stomp to an agonizing, Khanate-esque doom conclusion, and the middle will provide flow from one to the next. “Malnutrition Bends the Beak” has enough diversity to be an EP unto itself (and some more Khanate as well; this time with tortured vocals included), but also rests well in the context surrounding, its sustained and thickened low-end rumble all the more foreboding for the pace it has divided seemingly in half.

Anyone noticing the band is from Eugene and looking for a YOB connection will find it more in the fact that Species Battle in the Branches was recorded by former bassist Isamu Sato than in Rye Wolves‘ actual sound — though their locale and their playing extended post-doom songs is bound to lead to comparisons. Rye Wolves have put the whole of Species Battle in the Branches on their Bandcamp page for streaming (they’re also on The Facebooks here), and I grabbed the player and put it here in case anyone wants to check it out. I’d recommend doing so, anyway:

Try as hard as this bastard of a planet has for the last 30-odd years, there has yet to arise a suitable substitute for thrash riffing. Everything metal has done since, from the lumbering plod of doom to the chugga-chugga dissonance of Meshuggah-derived djent, has never been able to quite tap into the same primal malevolence as a downward sloping thrash riff (though, arguably, they each have their own brand of devilry to them). Oakland, California, four-piece Hazzard’s Cure made their debut this fall with a self-titled CD and tape recorded by Greg Wilkinson of Brainoil, and as much as there are elements brought in from black metal and beer-worshiping guitar onslaughts, at its core, it almost can’t help but be a thrash album.

Before the big slowdown in the first half of closer “Great Dishonor,” Hazzard’s Cure recklessly make their way through seven tracks of blistering metal, and though I’m (predictably) more into the mid-paced groove of “Meet Me at the Mountain” than the broken-bottle blackness of “Psilocybin,” the band maintains a consistent appeal throughout, nodding at dirt metal and High on Fire and keeping a sense of fuckall behind even the mostly-clean vocal of “Clashing of Hordes.” Battle metal? A little bit, but more in that post-Matt Pike “heavy equals battle axes” lyrical mindset than any sort of grandeur in the production, despite that song’s acoustic part.

Several of the songs in Hazzard’s Cure‘s midsection bleed into each other, including “Meet Me at the Mountain” into “Tossed and Dethroned” and that song into “Clashing of Hordes,” which likewise flows easily into “Wolves’ Banquet,” and while I don’t know for sure if one is there, it’s easy enough to read a narrative into the structure of at least part of the album. I wouldn’t speculate as to how it translates onto cassette, but Hazzard’s Cure (whose lineup features members of Walken and Owl) mix genres fluidly and come out of it with something more their own than it might seem on first listen, so I thought it was worth putting the tracks from the record up in case anyone wanted to check them out.

These come courtesy of the Hazzard’s Cure page on Bandcamp. You can also check out the band’s website, if you’re so inclined. Thrash on:

It’s a rare band that will have me throwing the horns at my desk, but so help me Robot Jeebus, the first time I listened to the self-titled EP from Detroit five-piece Knife, up they went at the end of opening track, “The Mess.” It was a gut reaction. No choice in the matter. The song is the perfect balance of catchy choruses and bearded burl, like the first Queens of the Stone Age record after getting its ass kicked a couple times.

As much as Detroit has seen the growth of a hipster culture the last few years, Knife have nothing to do with any of that. In the same vein as like-minded heavy Motor City bastards Chapstik and Mean Mother, they rock straightforward and more than a bit angry, pulling back some on the aggression for “Lake of Tar” (especially as compares to “This Field was Made for Killing” preceding) but giving little slack in the momentum. Knife is only six songs, 25 minutes, but in that time, the band establishes a firm pattern of riffs and solos, earning their two guitars and still leaving room for the standalone vocals of Curt Massof, which more than earn it.

Whether it’s the start-stop semi-Southern chugga groove of “Outrider” (little Danzig in there) or the unbridled energy of “Lineage,” Knife make sure their foot is right at home in the ass of their listener, and though I don’t know what the deal is with them and a label, them and a full-length, them and touring, them and their lineup, etc., I just wanted to put these songs on here because I actually dig the music. Figure the rest will work itself out.

If you want to hit the band up, do so on their Thee Facebooks profile or buy the EP via Bandcamp. Enjoy this stream of Knife‘s Knife, courtesy of the latter portal:

Dutch trio House of Exorcism are just getting going. The file they have posted on their Thee Facebooks profile is dubbed “First Test Recording,” and sure enough, it’s pretty raw. I mean, not raw in terms of production or in terms of lacking a coherent take on the doom they’re trying to convey, but, you know, still probably raw in comparison to what’s to come.

Guitarist Richard Schouten (who also works as an illustrator and plays guitar in the death metal outfit Acrostichon) started the project with himself on guitar, bass and programming, and soon signed Astrosoniq‘s Marcel Van De Vondervoort on to handle drums and other percussion. The only voices on “First Test Recording” — which you can see on the YouTube clip below has been renamed “Black Sunday” — are from samples, but with Bart Smits (formerly of The Gathering) handling vocals going forward, some singing is bound to show up.

So if nothing else, then, “Black Sunday” serves as first notice for some of the stylistic territory House of Exorcism might be working in, though the band seem quick to point out their doom isn’t limited to the traditional. It should be interesting to see what these players of varied backgrounds can come up with working together. Seven and a half minutes of woeful plodding isn’t a bad start.

Check out “Black Sunday” from YouTube:

The recommendation to check out heavy space rock trio Eye came from Lo-Pan‘s Jesse Bartz, and man, was he right. On their self-released Center of the Sun debut, Eye — nearly impossible to locate via Googular means — blend half-speed low-end Hawkwind with organ-era Clutch and are partial to the occasional excursion into minimal drone worship, harmonized vocal or military march — and seriously, that’s just on the 19-minute opening title-track, which has a scope that even that all-over-the-place description only touches the surface of. It’s exciting to know people are doing this kind of stuff.

Guitarist/vocalist Matt Auxier and drummer/vocalist Brandon Smith both come from the Columbus psych outfit The Pretty Weapons, and bassist Matt Bailey was a member of post-Mastodon crushers Teeth of the Hydra, who released their Greenland album on Tee Pee in 2006, so the combination was bound to result in something interesting. As Eye, the three-piece indulge in extended, blinding washes of thickened psychedelics. The songs feel born of jams but not unstructured, even as the languid plod of “Usurpers” gives way to the frantic guitar jabs of “Restorers,” there’s a cohesiveness and a plan at work behind the madness. They can and do go anywhere, and there’s an underlying intensity that keeps hold of the attention however far out Eye might be spiraling.

Plus: mellotron. Well utilized mellotron, at that. Where it shows up as contributed by Adam “Smitty” Smith (who also engineered the record), it gives Eye that feeling of being the life-changing obscure 1974 vinyl you pick up at a garage sale and soon quit your job to worship. Center of the Sun is blown out where it needs to be, but not afraid of being classy either, and the jazzy shuffle of “Restorers” in its latter half proves it, Auxier‘s killer wailing solo included. As closer “Rik Rite” moves from blues rock classicism to epic cosmic proclamations, the journey feels like coming through a wormhole. In an instant you’re somewhere else, you have no idea how you got there, and any sense of time you had has been evaporated.

Much thanks to Bartz for the recommendation. If you want to check out Eye — and you do — feel free to hit them up on Thee Facebooks. They’ve also got Center of the Sun for sale as a pay-what-you-want download on their Bandcamp, the proceeds from which they’re hoping to use to press a limited CD run. A band after my own heart. Here’s the album for streaming goodness:

Not to be confused with the British ultra-sludge outfit on Rise Above — that’s Moss –  The Moss hail from Portland, Oregon, and play a self-aware brand of pre-prog ’70s heavy rock. One could sit for days and rattle off a list of bands to cite, but the names are mostly interchangeable as they manifest here, and it would be more about indulgence on my part than saying the four-piece give a more than respectably-riffed showing on Wulfram, their first and full-length demo, balancing two guitars and hooky vocals well alongside solid grooves and modern approaches against classic influence.

Where most bands will write usually write an initial batch of songs and cut a demo on the quick, Wulfram is more of an album than a sampler, with songs like “Widow Trakk” and “La Cantina” providing earnest boogie rock that’s both assured within its style and still immediate as one might expect with a unit’s early material. The guitars of Adam Burke and Tony Pacific work well together with Burke on vocals and Pacific handling leads, and bassist Beth Borland and drummer Ben Spencer make what might otherwise be standard fare motoring riffs sound fresh with interesting, upbeat rhythms and vibrant fills.

The songs and aesthetic are vinyl-ready in a way that’s more Graveyard than Witchcraft, despite the organ in “Un Vultur,” and several interludes break up Wulfram appropriately and allow for a decent flow between the tracks. Basically what it all rounds out to is another act emerging from one of the strongest American scenes who are worth checking out. What has yet to cease amazing me about Portland is that there isn’t just one style of heavy being played around the city. That is, it’s not just like everyone’s trying to hone in on one sound or style — there are as many takes on it as there are bands. The Moss indeed prove to have their own spin with Wulfram, and hopefully there’s more to come.

Check them out on Thee Facebooks here, and, if you’re so inclined, you can purchase a download of Wulfram via their Bandcamp for a mere $6.66. Here’s the stream of the record from that page:

It’s not the greatest band name in the world. You might go so far to say it’s el terri-blay, but heavy rocking trio Free Range Humanz have bigger things on their mind than coming up with a catchy moniker, and whatever they go by, there’s probably a decent contingent of people who are going to call them “that new band with Ruben Romano in it” anyway.

Romano, of course, is the former drummer from Fu Manchu and Nebula. In Free Range Humanz, he’s joined by bassist Kenny Cunningham and guitarist Kurt Van Lifeson — who’s also credited with vocals, although in listening through the cuts on the band’s ReverbNation page, I’ve yet to hear any singing. Maybe they’re hedging their bets for later on. Smart play.

What’s already in the Free Range Humanz tracks is no small amount of Californian-style riffy groove. Cunningham donates choice fills to “Anchor” and “A Passage” as Van Lifeson‘s guitar leads the way through a slew of jams. They sidestep the rehearsal-room feel in this initial batch of tracks for the acoustic piano cut “The Dream” and a few others (there’s some dance music on there too; things get weird toward the end of the playlist). It’s a surprise given the lighthearted feel of the rest of the material, but it’s pretty clear all the way through that Free Range Humanz are still pretty nascent and exploring their sound.

For where that might lead them as much as for their pedigree, they’re definitely worth keeping on the radar. You can check them out on Thee Facebooks here or at ReverbNation, from whence these songs were snagged:

These dudes were recommended to me via the contact form. It’s been a little bit (surprising how long, actually; over a month) since I wrote about a band from Portland, but Towers, who formed in Spring 2010 draw the attention with pulsing ’90s-style noisy churn and throaty shouts on the track “The Fields,” and let the fuzz do both the walking and the talking on the more stonerly “Lost Missile,” so I’m not about to argue with the suggestion. Pretty heavy stuff.

There’s something angry in the vocals, which even on “Lose Missile,” adds an element of intensity. They’re obviously still a pretty new band, but guitarist Max Rees, bassist/vocalist Rick Duncan and drummer Darryl Swan do solid work blending their riff-based and noise elements. Early Helmet is a factor, and by extension Totimoshi — I’d draw a direct comparison between Duncan‘s singing on “Western World Death Blow” and the latter — and things get a little weird on the aptly-titled “Machine,” where they take the noise rock and toss it over a synth dance beat. Strange times we live in.

Anyway, the tunes are cool, and Towers are doing local shows for anyone in Oregon or the Portland area who might want to catch them. There’s more info on their Thee Facebooks page, and they’ve also got the songs on ReverbNation, which is where I heard them. Here they are for your listening convenience:

British foursome Undersmile are notable for a few reasons. Probably first among them is that they have not one, but two guitarist/vocalist frontwomen — Hel Sterne and Taz Corona-Brown — at the helm. Second, both sing, and trade off drawling stoner doom vocals for yelling sludge shouts. Third, they hit really, really hard. Listening to Undersmile‘s two tracks on their recent split with countrymen hardcore act Caretaker, even more than the sleepy vocals, it’s the punch the music packs that stands out. Tom McKibbin assaults his toms in the first part of “Big Wow,” setting a slow march, only to give way eventually to a faster groove, but either way, his kick drum feels like it’s taking the air out of your lungs.

Undersmile is rounded out by bassist Olly Corona-Brown, and on the split’s second extended cut, the 12:43 “Anchor,” his four strings follow the plodding start-stop course set by the guitars. “Anchor” ultimately takes a different path from its predecessor, veering into spooky minimalism and culminating in noisy oblivion instead of getting faster and then slowing back down, but shows nonetheless that Undersmile recognize their material is stronger when it moves in one direction or another, rather than just lumbering along. There’s still a considerable stomp to “Anchor,” but it’s dreamier and less outwardly aggressive, the guitars and vocals meshing in the second half like some nightmarishly-slowed ’90s throwback.

If you’re interested, Undersmile have the tracks up at their Bandcamp page and can be found on Thee Facebooks here. The split was released by Blindsight Records, whose page is here, and just in case you don’t feel like clicking any of those links (so much work!), here’s the player with Undersmile‘s tracks and Caretaker‘s:

It’s becoming more and more interesting to watch the generations shift, different influences arise and get put to different uses. For example, though it was once the scourge of both the rock and the metal underground, grunge is in the process of coming full-circle in terms of influencing underground bands. To wit, British foursome Gouranga take the rudimentary, crusty approach that shoveled dirt into Nirvana‘s sound for their Bleach record and inject it with punkishly upbeat rhythms.

The result, on Gouranga‘s self-released Keep Your Colours EP (and one wonders if we’re keeping them because they’ve been bleached out), is nonetheless drivingly heavy. And true to the narrative that grunge was a reaction to the excesses of glam, so too is Gouranga‘s material simple almost to the point of minimalism. What’s most striking about it is the blending of hardcore punk with the filthy tonality that carries a song like “Rife Machine,” which, you know, was probably pretty striking the first time around too.

So, in the world where what’s old is perennially new again, Gouranga played their first show late last year and have their EP and t-shirts for sale on the cheap at their BigCartel store. You can also check out their tracks via their Bandcamp and get in touch with them on Thee Facebooks. Good to know they’re not stuck in 1991 when it comes to social networking, which I think would just involve mailing out a lot of home-dubbed cassettes.

Probably easier to just stream the tracks here:

It’s one of the least Googleable band names I’ve ever come across, but if the intensity of Fashion Week‘s nine-minute demo are anything to go by, they probably don’t mind. With song titles that play into the concept like “Fabulous,” “Heidi Klum,” “Bryant Park” and “Fierce,” one could just as easily speculate that not being found on YouTube is half the point. The other half is blasting out viciously angry tunes.

Making the most of scene interbreeding, the NYC trio brings together members of Inswarm, Man’s Gin and Clutter for a kind of thoughtful avant grind with hints of ’90s dissonance. Guitarist/vocalist Josh Lozano, bassist Brett Zweiman and drummer Carl Eklof waste no time in any of the material — even the sample that opens “Heidi Klum” feels necessary — and though the bounce-ready main riff of “Bryant Park” (which almost reaches three minutes in length) comes dangerously close to nü-metal, it’s much more Helmet than Stereomud, and that’s a huge difference. In any case, Lozano‘s freakout screaming sets it apart, and “Fierce” sounds like it could’ve come off a Napalm Death record, so it’s more curveball than misstep.

They don’t seem to have the demo tracks posted anywhere (at least that I could find), but Fashion Week are on Thee Facebooks here, and I managed to find this video through their page, so score one for research. Kind of off-kilter from what I usually cover, but I dig it.

A death/doom outfit in the gloomy and mournful tradition, Subterranean Disposition (website here) is comprised of one man: Terry Vainoras. The Melbourne, Australia, native has played in acts like Insomnius Dei and The Eternal, and with Subterranean Disposition (one can only assume someone out there calls the band SubDis, whether it’s Terry himself or not), he explores the sorrowful aspects of European-style metallic melodrama.

Very European-style, actually. The song Vainoras has uploaded to Subterranean Disposition’s SoundCloud page shows a heavy My Dying Bride influence, particularly in the vocals, which in their spoken parts are more acted out than sung. Ranging musically from heavy thuds and expressions of an Iliad of woes to the open space that sampled ocean waves provide, the song “The Most Subtle of Storms” moves deftly between its parts and offers a considerable taste of what Vainoras has to offer.

Helping the song in that respect is that it’s almost 15 minutes long. Taken from Subterranean Disposition’s upcoming self-titled full-length, it’s rougher production-wise than most Eurodoom these days (one generally thinks of something lush and elaborate, and Vainoras isn’t there yet), which gives it a feel tossing back to the ’90s earlier days of the genre sound-wise with the complexity of the modern style. There are some kinks yet to be worked out in terms of the mix (at least until the saxophone kicks in; it’s smooth sailing from there), but here’s “The Most Subtle of Storms” from Subterranean Disposition’s Subterranean Disposition: