Kudos to Backwoods Payback for doing what they do well. As hard a time as I have remembering whether they hail from West Chester or Westchester, Pennsylvania (it’s the first one), they seem to hit the road for month-long stretches with proportionate ease. As one of their songs was reportedly also used in an episode of Dog the Bounty Hunter last night, the door-to-door exposure must be doing them some good.

Here’s the info for Backwoods Payback tour that will take them to SXSW and includes what’s sure to be an epic night in Los Angeles with Sasquatch and the recently-interviewed Dwellers. Dig it:

Small Stone Records’ own Backwoods Payback are set to hit the road in support of their latest full-length Momantha this March 1-25. The tour takes them across the United States out to the West Coast for the first time in five years with showcase-worthy dates planned in Portland, OR, San Francisco and Los Angeles, among others.

The tour also sees them making a stop at this year’s SXSW festival in Austin, TX, as part of the highly anticipated Small Stone Records showcase on March 16 at Headhunters outside patio stage.

The 24-date trek wraps up with a round of shows on the East Coast alongside King Giant and Atlanta’s Order of the Owl, the latest project from Zoroaster founding member and former bassist Brent Anderson.

Complete dates are below:
03/01 Columbus, OH Ruby Tuesday
03/02 Chicago, IL Ultra Lounge
03/03 Dubuque, IA Off Minor
03/04 Lincoln, NE Box Awesome
03/05 Denver, CO Old Curtis Street
03/06 Salt Lake City, UT Burt’s Tiki Lounge
03/07 Boise, ID Shredders
03/08 Seattle, WA Highline
03/09 Portland, OR Kelly’s Olympian
03/10 Arcata, CA Alibi 
03/11 San Francisco, CA Hemlock Tavern
03/12 Los Angeles, CA 5 Star Bar
03/13 Tempe, AZ Yucca
03/14 Albuquerque, NM Hooligans
03/16 Austin, TX – Small Stone Records SXSW showcase Headhunters (outside)!
03/17 Lake Charles, LA Happy Hippie Pizza w/ Lo-Pan 
03/18 Monroe, LA Tsunami w/ Lo-Pan
03/19 Birmingham, AL The Nick 
03/20 Knoxville, TN Longbranch Saloon
03/21 Atlanta, GA Starbar *
03/22 Charlotte, NC The Milestone *
03/23 Chapel Hill, NC Nightlight *
03/24 Philadelphia, PA The Station *
03/25 Brooklyn, NY tba *
*w/ King Giant, Order of the Owl

This past weekend was my local record show at the firehouse in scenic Wayne, New Jersey. Cobbling myself together from semi-hungover morning-after fragments, I took my two coin repositories — a dog with its tongue sticking out and a Yankee cap — to the bank: $84. Not enough money to really live large, but I was more than willing to take it. The Patient Mrs., bless her heart, waited in the car while I entered the firehouse fray. It was packed.

The dude I bought Amon Düül II‘s Carnival in Babylon from told me I should get Yeti and Wolf City too, and if he had them, I might have. I didn’t tell him I’d seen the band, it being too early for conversations of that magnitude and the generally claustrophobic air of the crowd preventing it. Beatles vinyl abounded, always tempting on an existential level, but I stuck to CDs despite eying a Sly Stone cassette and wound up with Firebird‘s Double Diamond (review here), and from a table in the back, an original issue Diary of a Madman and the first Nativity in Black Black Sabbath tribute, which I probably didn’t already own because I’ll never listen to it. Well, now I own it and I’ll never listen to it.

I picked it up because it was the third in a three-for-$10 deal with the guy selling it, and along with Diary of a Madman, the deal was rounded out by the jewel case version of Lullabies to Paralyze, by Queens of the Stone Age. I’ve owned this record since it came out. I had both the jewel case and digipak editions previously, but gave the hard plastic one away to my sister’s husband when he said he dug it. They were both promos, and I still have the digipak, but it’d been years since my last listen. Every time I get a fancypants digipak like that, the comic book collector in me comes right out. I don’t want to bend the corners.

Plus, when I’m reaching for Queens of the Stone Age — which I am not infrequently; it comes in waves — I’m usually going for the 1998 self-titled or 2002′s Songs for the Deaf. Rated R less so, but every now and again it hits the spot, and the last album (to date), 2007′s Era Vulgaris, just about never. So paying the three-and-a-third dollars for Lullabies to Paralyze was a chance to revisit these songs, which I always recall being a sucker for when the album came out, however overshadowed they may have wound up being by their Dave Grohl-infused predecessors.

Grohl‘s absence and that of bassist Nick Oliveri are all over Lullabies to Paralyze, which means that as much as it was guitarist/vocalist Josh Homme‘s stated mission to continue from where the band had left off three years earlier on Songs for the Deaf — starting with Mark Lanegan singing “This Lullaby” to the tune of Chris Goss‘ vocal on Songs for the Deaf epilogue “Mosquito Song” supports the argument of flowing one into the next — it simply wasn’t going to happen. And ultimately, it didn’t. The album’s character turned out to be more a show of Homme‘s songwriting than anything else.

And that might have more to do with Oliveri being out of the band than Grohl, who, despite being one of his generation’s finest rock drummers (and a capable songwriter to boot) probably didn’t have much to do with the construction of the actual riffs or the arrangements on Songs for the Deaf. Oliveri, on the other hand, fronted the band for that album’s opener, “Millionaire,” and comparing that to “Medication,” which seems to be going for some of the same immediacy and abrasion sonically, the effect simply isn’t the same. Homme‘s semi-blown-out approach is still no match for Oliveri‘s druggy screams, and Lullabies to Paralyze was lacking both that edge and diversity.

Not that the album didn’t have its share of diversity. From the near-bubblegum infectiousness of “In My Head” — a song that seemed to both realize and revel in how catchy it was — to the sexed-up shimmy of “Skin on Skin” and the vague threats of “‘You’ve Got a Killer Scene There, Man,’” Lullabies to Paralyze worked within a variety of moods and atmospheres, but it wasn’t the same, and in directly linking itself to Songs for the Deaf, it seemed like it wanted to be, and was confused as a result.

Performance-wise, however, it might be the best vocal outing of Homme‘s career. “Everybody Knows that You are Insane” proved early on that he could carry the band on his own, “Tangled up in Plaid” confirmed mastery of his falsetto and the smooth transitions into and out of it, and “I Never Came” showed he could convey emotion without being cartoonish or sappy. The single “Little Sister,” along with “Burn the Witch” and “Long Slow Goodbye” and “Broken Box” were affirmations of Homme‘s songcraft, and “Tangled up in Plaid” showed there was hope for life after Oliveri, featuring Alain Johannes‘ bass line as one of the album’s highlights.

But however accomplished, Lullabies to Paralyze was the point at which Queens of the Stone Age became Homme‘s and Homme‘s alone, because although Joey Castillo held his own on drums in the wake of Grohl and Troy van Leeuwen contributed on guitar amid guest performances vocal and otherwise from the likes of producer Joe Barresi, Chris Goss, Lanegan, Shirley Manson (of Garbage), Billy Gibbons (of Z.Z. Top), Jessie “The Devil” Hughes and others, it was Homme himself who emerged as the one steering the ship. More than ever before, it was easy to see Queens of the Stone Age as Josh Homme‘s band, and that became the pivotal difference between Lullabies to Paralyze and anything the group had done previously.

I don’t know if I’ll speak to the enduring appeal of the album, since however much I’ve enjoyed getting to know it again, I’ve already owned it from before it was actually released and haven’t listened to it in years, but it’s a cool record nonetheless, and probably undervalued in the QOTSA catalog for the quality of Homme‘s songwriting and what it meant in terms of the changing personality of the band. Not bad for $3, in any case.

I was all set not to even do a Wino Wednesday post this week, since I’m planning on reviewing the Wino/Conny Ochs collaboration CD, Heavy Kingdom, tomorrow, but in the end I couldn’t help myself. Digging deep into the YuberToubular reaches, I unearthed this clip some kind soul uploaded of Saint Vitus performing “Look Behind You” and their Black Flag cover, “Thirsty and Miserable.”

Where and when this show took place, I don’t know, but Vitus reportedly didn’t break out “Thirsty and Miserable” all that often, so rough as it is, it’s cool to hear them play it at all. This live version makes the studio one off the 1987 EP of the same name sound clean in comparison, but if ever there was righteousness in doom, it’s in Dave Chandler‘s fucked up barrage of noise and feedback. They’re one of bands that ever walked the earth.

So, with that in mind, enjoy the gnarl as part of the appeal here. Happy Wino Wednesday:

In a seemingly ongoing effort to shoot my own work productivity in the ass, I was at the office late yesterday evening dicking around on the internet, and I came across this YouTube clip for the song “Demonizador” by the Santiago, Chile, band Demonauta:

Demonauta — not to be confused with Argentina’s Dragonauta despite the “d–auta” similarity — are a pretty regular fixture in my feed on Thee Facebooks, which if nothing else speaks to their ongoing capacity for self-promotion. I respect that. It finally got me to hit up their track above, and I wound up thinking it was well worth the time. Hopefully you did too.

I saw from their profile that they had a Soundcloud page too, and in hitting that up, found that not only is “Demonizador” available to stream, but so is the entire Vol. 1 full-length from which it comes.

To wit:

And that’s how fucking easy it is to “discover” a new band these days. Roughly 12 minutes of time invested (most of that spent listening to “Demonizador,” which as you can see almost accounts for nine on its own), and I’m drenched in gloriously heavy psychedelic fuzz. It’s not as much commitment as buying an album, waiting for it to arrive from South America, and digging into it over time, but it’s immediate satisfaction, which seems to have an appeal of its own if this post and the course of human existence in general are anything to go by.

Hell, looking at that widget above, you don’t even have to leave this site to download the whole of Vol. 1 if you don’t want to (and I don’t know why you’d ever want to leave; I never do). There’s a button right on there. What a fabulously interesting thing musical globalization has become. Just listen to how Kyuss‘ “N.O.” riff has been reworked into the verse of Vol. 1 closer “Desvanecer” if you don’t believe me.

Thanks to Demonauta for continually putting themselves on my radar, and for making their music so readily available. If you also dig what they do, feel free to drop them a line and say so.

Congratulations to New Hampshire’s Supermachine (pictured above) for being one of the slew of new bands signed to Small Stone Records. The Detroit label passed along news today that it has made deals with them as well as Swedish fuzz upstarts Asteroid and Mother of God along with heavy rockers Lord Fowl (who so impressed at the Fuzz Fest in their native Connecticut last summer) and Texas’ Wo Fat. With new releases already on the way from the likes of Mangoo and Greenleaf, Small Stone‘s roster and scope seem to be continually expanding. Should be cool to see what comes out of it, and in the meantime, more good music is never a bad thing.

Here’s the word from label honcho, Scott Hamilton, sent the old-fashioned way (by email):

For some of you this old news, as we have already let the cat out of the bag on Facebook for a few of these… But for those of you who prefer to get your information the old fashioned way, we have quite a few new acts that have just joined the Small Stone Family.

Please welcome: New Hampshire’s Supermachine (two ex-Scissorfight boys, and two boys you are most likely not all that hip to), Dallas, TX’s Wo Fat (who have mastered the fine art of fusing early Sabbath riffs with the soul and swagger of the deep south), Connecticut’s Lord Fowl (who make incredible retro rock styled jams – thanks for the heads up Mr. Taskmaster), and not one but two acts from Sweden.

The first band you all should know by now, Asteroid (who widely respected and adored for their love of the fuzz), and some young whippersnappers named Mother of God (these kids rock, you are going to love ‘em! – a special thanks goes out to the Infernal Overdrive band for pointing them out to us).

We do not have any formal release dates to announce for any of the above as they are all in different stages of production, but for the most part, you can expect some of these Small Stone debuts to be rolling out later this year.

Thanks—
Scott Hamilton
Small Stone HQ
www.smallstone.com

When last they were heard from, Richmond, Virginia’s Fire Faithful were giving a sample of their Southern-styled heavy wares on a split with Lord called Refuge for the Recluse, and with their self-released debut full-length, Fire Faithful bring that knack for metallic wordplay (an art unto itself) to a new degree. The album is called Please Accept this Invocation, and with songs like “Disgust is a Must” and the über-clever “Wonton Lavey,” it’s easy to imagine the trio (down from the four-piece they were on the Lord split with the absence of guitarist Dave Marrs, who nonetheless gets a liner notes nod for his contributions to the songwriting) don’t take themselves too seriously, but the atmosphere on the record is morose almost to the point of being dire, and though there are parts of it that are very, very metal – the start-stop double-kick from drummer Joss Sallade on “Dollar Bottomed Out” is more Lamb of God than Alamaba Thunderpussy (to keep the comparisons Virginian) – the album seems more keen on developing a semi-cultish mood than posturing this way or that as either a “Southern” band or a “metal” one. And in that, Please Accept this Invocation is successful. Still, despite the impression finally being more about the overall moodiness and flow between the eight component tracks, there are several individual standouts, among them “A Devil in London,” “Flamingo,” “Wonton Lavey,” and the opening title cut.

The latter of that bunch (but the first on the tracklist – kablooie went my brain), “Please Accept this Invocation” is pivotal to the album not just for sharing its name, but also because it’s an immediate establishment of the central process at work in Fire Faithful’s songwriting – namely, the balance of mood and heaviness. It works in back-and-forth heavy/quiet tradeoffs, keeps a relatively slow pace set by the riffing of Shane Rippey, who handles both guitar and bass on the recording, and is met in its more subdued stretches by cooed verses from vocalist Brandon Malone. Malone might be the single element most responsible for designating Fire Faithful as a Southern metal band, but the production of Vince Burke of Beaten Back to Pure at his Sniper Studio adds to it as well. A rough drum sound is a staple of Burke’s jobs, and that remains true for Sallade here, but the cymbals come through clearly and as the opener transitions smoothly into “Dollar Bottomed Out,” it’s a near-wash that cuts to the second track’s chugging riff and rougher vocal from Malone, directly relatable to either Phil Anselmo (a standby influence) or ATP’s Johnny Throckmorton. In his croon, Malone is harder to place, and that comes out more on “A Devil in London,” which accounts for one of Please Accept this Invocation’s best stylistic blends, bringing together doomed riffs and an open feel bolstered by guest-spot backup singing in the chorus. The song gets heavier in the bridge, but never quite reaches the metallicism of “Dollar Bottomed Out,” despite Rippey’s squiggled guitars and a scream from Malone.

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Making his debut this week, bassist Tim Catz of Massachusetts heavy rock magnates Roadsaw brings you his brand new column, “70 RPMs,” and takes a special look at Sweet‘s 1975 opus, Desolation Boulevard. Enjoy:

Tim Catz’ 70 RPMs

This month’s record: Sweet – Desolation Boulevard

By 1974, the four fancy lads in The Sweet had grown tired of the bubble gum glam pop that had made them famous. Under the wing (and contract) of writing /producing duo Nicky Chinn and Michael Chapman, the band had already struck gold with hits like “Little Willy” and “Wig Wham Bam.” Despite their teeny-bopper success, or perhaps because of it, the group felt they needed to move toward a harder, heavier sound like many of their peers had already done.

The result was Sweet’s Desolation Boulevard. Released in the US in 1975, it was an instant hit and widely regarded as the band’s best work. But distancing themselves from their sugary past proved more difficult than simply dropping the “The” from their name. Contractually Chinn/Chapman were still on board and ended up controlling side one of the record (which would yield a bona fide hit with “Ballroom Blitz”). “No You Don’t” and “I Wanna Be Committed” are classic Sweet, even if they lacked some of the toughness the band desired.

But on side two, Sweet assumed full control and gave it their all. It kicks off with “Sweet F.A.” a juggernaut that showcased the band’s incredible and previously under-appreciated musicianship. Propelled by Mick Turner‘s frantic drumming and Andy Scott‘s wild lead guitar lines, the song also introduced some new studio finesse in the form of deep multi-tracked vocal harmonies from singer Brian Connolly and bassist Steve Priest. Though probably nicked from fellow Brits Queen and ELO, Sweet‘s new sound helped create what would become their biggest hit ever.

Starting with the unmistakable sound of a bubbling synthesizer, “Fox on the Run” smashed open with three huge power chords and straight up the charts worldwide. With its long echoing, “I……..” intro and muscular back beat, “Fox” silenced critics and thrilled fans. The song was a smash and became the anthem of every longhaired pimple-popping boy struggling through puberty in the summer of ‘75. And from then on, little sparkly-eyed feather-haired girls would forever be lovingly known as ever-elusive “foxes.”

Post script…

Producer/songwriter Michael Chapman would go on to produce Blondie‘s Parallel Lines and by changing the beat of one of their songs from slow reggae to disco, gave them their first number one hit: “Heart of Glass.”

Sweet‘s last single to chart in the US was 1978’s “Love is Like Oxygen.” Singer Brian Connolly would leave the band the following year. Both he and bassist Steve Priest are now dead, making a much-desired Sweet reunion impossible.

Little Rock, accurate though it may be geographically, does nothing to convey the huge tonality at work on Pallbearer’s Sorrow and Extinction full-length debut. The album, released by Profound Lore is comprised of five extended cuts of sorrowful plodding, emotionally visceral and traditional doom that immerses the listener right from the quiet acoustic beginnings of opener “Foreigner.” But for those tones – the guitars of Brett Campbell and Devin Holt remind of earlier YOB in the depths to which their distortion plummets – Pallbearer would be almost entirely familiar stylistically, harkening on a mournfulness long since established as a defining element of this kind of doom with a melodic skillfulness that seems to be on the rise within the style as proffered by acts like The Gates of Slumber on their latest album or 40 Watt Sun, whose own debut was so impeccably received last year. Pallbearer have a similar resonance, but the balance is different than either of those two acts in that Sorrow and Extinction is less directly pointed in its mission and seemingly more concerned with the songs than the overall impression. For example, where The Gates of Slumber’s last album, The Wretch, was an excellent turn to a more doomed atmosphere than on their several prior releases, and where 40 Watt Sun’s The Inside Room gave so much to the interplay of melody and heaviness and smoothly broke between acoustics and massive riffing, Pallbearer, while still in the same league as either of the others, keep their focus on the tidal sway within the songs and have the melody – whether it’s in Campbell’s vocals or the instruments themselves – feed into that.

The result is massive, and at loud volumes especially, overwhelming. Given added rumble by the bass of Joseph D. Rowland’s bass, “Foreigner” loses nothing of its heft as the guitars move farther up the neck for drawn-out woe-laden leads in the track’s second half. There’s a build at work, but it’s subtle and more keyed on the emotional element than on loud/quiet interchanges. Campbell proves immediately capable of conveying the lyrics believably and sincerely, and the drumming of Zach Stone – replaced as drummer after the album was recorded by Chuck Schaaf (Deadbird), who engineered and mixed Sorrow and Extinction – is suited both to the more active cymbal work at the beginning of “Devoid of Redemption” and to backing the echoing swirl of Dave Chandler-style noise soloing that arrives later into the song’s low-end barrage. “Devoid of Redemption” is the first of three songs – the other two being “The Legend” and “An Offering of Grief” – that all hover around eight and a half minutes long, and speak to the CD-minded linear structure of the track listing. Pallbearer have the songs arranged so that the record opens with its longest cut (immediate points), “Foreigner” (12:21), plays out three songs of similar mass, and closes with another longer piece, “Given to the Grave,” which clocks in at 10:56. Because the tones are so rich, and because “Devoid of Redemption,” “The Legend” and “An Offering of Grief” have a varied feel mood-wise and elements that make each stand out for different reasons, Sorrow and Extinction avoids feeling formulaic, but there’s clearly some mindfulness of structure at work in more than just the songwriting. As the overall flow of the album feels well served by the songs being positioned as they are, the structure proves effective as more than just nuance.

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I’m a long-admitted sucker for Swedish rock and roll. The list of artists is too long to even start (though if you’re interested, I did do a podcast on the subject one time), but in any case, when Transubstans Records sent over the new album from Gothenburg five-piece Ett Rop På Hjälp, it hit just the right nerd-nerve. Fans of Graveyard or Asteroid or even some of Witchcraft‘s early material should take note, but the band (whose name translates to “A Cry for Help”) aren’t just about retro visitations or fuzzy jams.

Rather, their Transubstans debut, Hur Svårt Kan Det Vara? (“How Hard Can it Be?”), is full of free-flowing and warm bluesiness, with songs like “Sagor (Och Ingenting Annat Än Sagor)” injecting a natural melancholia that’s offset by the shuffling boogie of “Följ Mitt Liv.” Their approach varies, but remains tonally consistent even as “Vänförfrågan”‘s instrumental melody veers a bit into what’s more likely today to be utilized in devil-worshiping witch rock than a song whose title translates to “Friend Request” — unless of course, they’re sending the devil the friend request, which, in any case, is awesome.

The label was kind enough to offer up album-opener “Den Siste Altruisten” for streaming (they have it on their Soundcloud page as well), and as the first cut on Hur Svårt Kan Det Vara?, it gives a decent impression of where Ett Rop På Hjälp are headed thereafter. It’s also among the catchier songs — two listens and you’re hooked, if it takes that long — which can help if, say, you’re crossing a language barrier.

So, with thanks to the band and Transubstans, please enjoy “Den Siste Altruisten” on the player below:

Ett Rop På Hjälp‘s Hur Svårt Kan Det Vara? is available due out March 14 on Transubstans Records. For more info, hit up the label’s site or the Record Heaven webshop with which they’re affiliated.

With his former trio, Iota, beginning to fizzle out, guitarist/vocalist Joey Toscano began Dwellers as a duo with SubRosa drummer Zach Hatsis. The Salt Lake City natives worked together when they could until Toscano, frustrated at missed practices and a band that seemed to be stagnating — practically if not creatively — said it was time to really make Dwellers happen.

Iota had released their Small Stone debut, Tales, in 2008. The album’s blend of space rock jamming and heavy riffs, combined with Toscano‘s far-back vocals and the thick production of Andy Patterson (who also played drums in the band), was well received and became over the next couple years something of a stoner rock cult classic outside of Salt Lake City. Interest endured in finding out how the band would follow it up, but when word finally came, it in the form of an avant garde Dwellers EP that preceded the now-trio’s own first Small Stone outing, Good Morning Harakiri.

The album (review here) takes its name from the Japanese ritualistic suicide by disembowelment and decapitation otherwise known as “seppuku,” and in terms of being honest about their influences and crafting what they want their music to be, innards are suitably spilled. Recorded by Patterson, Toscano‘s vocals are less drenched in effects and farther forward in the songs than they were on Tales; the direction of Dwellers has more in common with swampy marshes than Californian deserts. Hatsis and bassist Dave Jones are a complex but accessible rhythm section, providing stylistic depth and adding to Toscano‘s riffs more than just tonal weight.

As compares to the Peace and Other Horrors EP that came before it, Good Morning Harakiri is more straightforward and song-based, which Toscano says is on purpose. Along with discussion of blending the two sides of the band in the future, he also spoke about transitioning from Iota to having Dwellers as his main project, the growth of the heavy underground in the last several years, Iota‘s misadventures at SXSW, Dwellers‘ recent show with YOB, and much more.

Full Q&A is after the jump. Please enjoy.

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They also have two other bands on the bill, but sue me, I’m biased. The Maple Forum veterans Kings Destroy will be celebrating the release of their album, …And the Rest Will Surely Perish on vinyl (the CD long since sold out), and they do so with future European tour partners Rosetta, with Clamfight — whose next record is now mixed, mastered and awaiting artwork, pressing and eventual Maple Forum release — and Floridian heavies Hollow Leg. It’s going to be quite a Wednesday, indeed.

If you’re in the area, obviously it’s got my vote for “places you should be” — free Genesee cans from 7-10PM adding to the already considerable element of danger — but even if not, I think you can appreciate the killer flyer they made featuring “sampled” Philippe Druillet art:

See you there.

If I can reiterate a point from my writeups of the last two issues of the Italian ‘zine Vincebus Eruptum (here and here), I have a tremendous amount of respect for the publication and the people behind it. Editor and writer Davide “Davidew” Pansolin is among the foremost voices when it comes to continental European heaviness, and I put a lot of stock in his opinion. Aside from being laudatory for being a print pub in the age of digital media, each page of Vincebus Eruptum practically oozes love of the fuzz and heavy psych it covers.

Pansolin, as always, handles a lot of the writing himself. His interviews with countrymen heavy rockers Black Rainbows, as well as The Freeks, Wight, The Grand Astoria are highlights, as are reviews of Summer Bacchanalia, Bomb the Sun, Wicked Minds and numerous others on which I’d love to spend the money to import if I had it. Also interviewed in issue #12 are Lee Dorrian, who talks about the development of Rise Above Records, Zippo, Gentlemans Pistols and Joe Hasselvander, who might be the best Q&A included. He’s someone I’ve wanted to get on the phone more or less for three years now, and his take on the modern doom scene as well as his contributions to Pentagram makes for a fascinating read.

Making issue #12 that much sweeter is the limited inclusion (500 only) of Vincebus Eruptum‘s first-ever CD compilation, Acid Sounds Vol. 1. Kicking off with a noisy rarity from defunct rockers Core, the comp wastes no time before celebrating two of Italy’s brightest: OJM (whose “Har(d)ucks,” in case you missed it, was included in this month’s podcast) and That’s all Folks!, veterans of Beard of Stars Records, whose Giorgio Pagnacco was the original label manager of VE Records. Tracks from Ruben Romano of Nebula‘s outfit The Freeks and garaged-out Sulatron rockers Vibravoid add some diversity, and the whole thing wraps appropriately with the Electric Moon‘s heavy jam “Trip Trip Trip” from their split with Glowsun (review here); close to nine minutes of improvised heavy.

Acid Sounds Vol. 1 excellently captures the personality and spirit of Vincebus Eruptum. That’s all Folks! have long since broken up, but between their inclusion and those of Colt.38 and E.X.P. — whose albums were originally released on VE Records during the ‘zine’s first run — bands like Zippo and The Freeks get context aside from that which their interviews in the issue provide. With new direct American distribution through the good folks at The Soda Shop, it seems Vincebus Eruptum is stronger than ever in a scene that knows the value of going analog from time to time. Right on. Hit up their website for more info.

Yes, that’s right. It’s a compilation of tracks from compilations. Is your mind blown yet?

If not, I might recommend you checking out Sleep covering Black Sabbath‘s “Snowblind,” John Garcia‘s acoustic track from the first MeteorCity release ever, Solace paying solo-laden homage to Godzilla, some of the very earliest Queens of the Stone Age recordings, or any number of the other off-album cuts, covers and rarities included here. Compilations — much as they’re a pain in the ass to review — afford bands opportunities to do things they never could on regular albums. Pentagram covering Captain Beyond? Ufommamut psych-jamming on Blue Cheer? It’s the stuff of practice room shenanigans put to tape.

It’s not all covers here, but since tributes are an essential part of the compilation experience, I wanted to make sure plenty were included. Some of the other stuff might just be album tracks — Sungrazer, Spirit Caravan, etc. — but comps are also a great way for a label to highlight its releases, so that’s part of it too. Ditto rarities, alternate versions, unreleased material, and so on. I’ve had comps on my mind a lot lately, whether it’s getting my hands on the Blue Cheer tribute or the Trouble tribute, or whatever else. They’re an essential part of this genre, and have been going back to the late ’90s when that wave of heavy/stoner rock was really coming together in the wake of Kyuss. It’s amazing how many of these releases are from 1997-2000. Both in the US and in Europe, it seemed like everybody was getting on board for this thing, heading in a specific direction.

You can factor in the rise of the internet as an exchange of musical ideas there (not to mention the music itself), and you’d probably be right to do so. But it’s important to note that when they wanted to make it count, the songs were pressed to disc. Either way, some of these comps are relics at this point — Burn One Up, Welcome to MeteorCity, Stone Deaf Forever — and I’ve found some killer bands over the years in the “V/A” section, so I wanted to bring a little of that out in the listening experience here. I hope you dig it.

A note to anyone who heard last month’s podcast: I didn’t talk on this one. I had neither the time nor the desire to sit at my office this weekend, plus with it being all comp stuff, I wanted to keep to that feel — there are a couple samples, but that’s it — and discussing the tracks as the thing moved along would only take away from that. If you dug that, maybe next time.

Stream audiObelisk Transmission 024 on the player above; download it by clicking the flier at the top of this post or by clicking here. Full tracklist is after the jump, as always.

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I think what I like best about this The Glasspack jam from their 2011 split 7″ with Trophy Wives is that it’s not what my mind immediately goes to when I think of the band; that being simple, dirty-as-hell rock and roll. This one’s a little more jammed out; a little less verse/chorus/verse/chorus and a little more “let’s ride this riff into space-rock oblivion.” Which I dig. Hope you do too.

Today, I was all set to post my interview with Dwellers guitarist/vocalist Joey Toscano, also formerly of Iota, but after the vehement responses the Bill Ward thing got (which were awesome, thank you all for commenting), I thought maybe it was better to let that breathe for a little bit. At least until Monday. Waiting on images is also part of that, but either way, it should be worked out by the time the weekend is done.

Also in that category: There will be a new podcast up this weekend.

It’s The Patient Mrs.‘ birthday, but barring destructive earthquake, asteroid, tsunami or other catastrophe, that won’t stop me from having a new podcast posted, however much I may (and do) love and appreciate my wife. Next week, I’ll also have reviews of Pallbearer, Wino & Conny Ochs, Fire Faithful and the new issue of the Vincebus Eruptum zine, among others. Hopefully some audio too. I’m waiting on a couple emails back in that regard, so I don’t want to promise something and not be able to deliver (cough, cough), but the podcast should be enough noise in any case.

This was a crazy week. I was behind the whole time. When it came down to this afternoon, I pretty much decided to say “screw it” and go home, and it was the right choice. Next week I’ll debut Roadsaw bassist Tim Catz‘s new column, “70 RPMs,” so look forward to that, and if you’re paying attention to the forum, I’ll also be continuing on my own personal Star Trek. A cult interest I know, but at least fascinating to me. Hopefully to you too. Ha.

Alright, enough of this nonsense. We’ll pick back up tomorrow or Sunday when the new podcast is up. Until then, thanks for reading. I hope you have a great and safe weekend. I’ll see you on the forum and back here asap.

First off, to a lot of people, he doesn’t. For better or worse, probably the majority of those in the legions who would attend the original-member reunion Black Sabbath announced in November either don’t know or don’t care about “the drummer.” They’re there to see Ozzy Osbourne sing “Paranoid” and maybe watch Tony Iommi play the “Iron Man” riff. Geezer Butler‘s bass and Bill Ward‘s drumming are secondary concerns.

These casual fans, those who would just show up, probably don’t realize it was Butler who wrote the lyrics Osbourne sang or that the rhythm section played such a huge role in making Black Sabbath‘s earliest records — 1970′s Black Sabbath and Paranoid, 1971′s Master of Reality and 1972′s Vol. 4 — as heavy and groundbreaking and stylistically definitive as they were. And even if they did realize, or even if they heard the band themselves say so — I know Iommi said it flat out in the Classic Albums: Paranoid DVD — they still wouldn’t care.

Outside of the context of the heavy rock underground that still so vehemently flies the flag of and takes influence from those four albums in particular, Black Sabbath is a heavy metal footnote en route to Osbourne‘s solo career and the commercialization of metal that first took place in the ’80s and continues to this day. Black Sabbath is important, but they’re more important because Pantera or Slipknot or Metallica says they are than because Master of Reality was a life-changing event.

Last Thursday, when Bill Ward released his statement that the contract he was offered was “unsignable,” the internet almost immediately blew up with support for his case. My feed on Thee Facebooks — which, though I don’t use it as a measure of overall cultural relevance, at least lets me know what people are talking about — still has posts of pro-Ward propaganda memes like those I’ve included with this post: “Back Stabbath,” “No Bill Ward, No Black Sabbath,” “Bill Sabbath” t-shirts. Sloganeering from people who (I would say rightfully) appreciate Ward‘s contributions to the original lineup. In an era that produced many great British drummers — John Bonham, Carl Palmer, Ian Paice, etc. — Ward‘s work stands out as singularly characteristic. No one before or since sounds quite like him, executes a fill quite the same way or keeps the same kind of swaggering beat that makes “Lord of this World” one of the heaviest songs ever put to tape.

Iommi, Butler and Osbourne released a response to Ward expressing their regret that the drummer had, “declined publicly to participate in our current Black Sabbath plans.” Somewhat predictably, it wasn’t long before Sharon Osbourne was scapegoated as trying to ripoff Ward or pull some shady business deal. It was a quick leap from:

to:

Sometimes I think “Sharon‘s a cunt” is the heavy metaller’s “These colors don’t run.” She’s enacted several truly despicable moves in the past — whether it was pelting Iron Maiden with eggs at Ozzfest or replacing the original drum and bass tracks on the first two Ozzy Osbourne solo records — and I think she often gets blamed for the tarnish to the public perception of Ozzy that came out of his buffoonish portrayal on the reality show The Osbournes, which saw him go quickly from the “Prince of Darkness” to a helpless, hapless oaf in the minds of fans and pop culture at large.

Blaming Sharon Osbourne for shrewd, callous or ethically questionable business decisions undertaken on behalf of her husband — she’s his manager, after all — is convenient, and sometimes, fun. She’s an easy scapegoat, and putting the fault on her saves longtime fans from accepting the reality that Ozzy himself — who’s nothing if not likable — is probably behind or at very least approving of what’s seen as happening completely without his input. Whether she’s a cunt or not, I don’t know. I’ve never met her or spoken to her, and I think a lot of women in business are open to being cast as bitches because of their gender where the same actions would be celebrated by their male counterparts. I’d have a hard time celebrating a dude for having Mike Bordin and Robert Trujillo replace Bob Daisley and Lee Kerslake‘s recorded tracks, but I probably wouldn’t call him a cunt for having done it. An asshole, maybe.

So I don’t think it’s so much a question of whether or not Sharon Osbourne is at least occasionally a classless jerk — history bears out that opinion of her as it does of most of us — as it is of how the negative view of her is cast by fans of Black Sabbath and Ozzy. Yoko didn’t break up The Beatles and Sharon isn’t ruining Black Sabbath. I won’t pretend to know the complex personal and professional histories between the members of the band, but last I heard, Iommi owned the band’s name, and as he’s been the only consistent member throughout the band’s many lineup changes over the last four decades, it’s easy to assume he’s the one calling the shots, not Sharon, or even Ozzy.

Where that puts Ward‘s position in this whole thing, I don’t know. The perception when Heaven and Hell got going and Ward wasn’t involved was that the conflict was between he and vocalist Ronnie James Dio, but maybe that was only part of the story, or none of it at all. It seems like every time Black Sabbath picks up in one incarnation or another, Ward is a question. He initially left the Dio-fronted lineup of the band after 1980′s Heaven and Hell album, came back for 1983′s Born Again, left again, rejoined with the original lineup in 1997, then left citing health reasons, and intermittently took part in touring after that. When I saw them on Ozzfest in 2005, I remember thinking to myself that I should appreciate Ward‘s performance particularly, since I didn’t know when I’d see him play drums again.

Which I suppose brings us around to the original question at the top of this post: Why Bill Ward matters. Black Sabbath has a long history without him, and it’s not like he was writing the riffs or the lyrics or singing on the songs. Tommy Clufetos from Ozzy‘s solo band can play those parts convincingly — as could any number of other drummers, so if you’re going to say one particular lineup of Black Sabbath is definitive and the rest aren’t, well, there are a lot of people out there collecting royalties on Sabbath records they played on who’d probably argue the point.

Bill Ward matters in the songwriting. When Black Sabbath took the stage for their press conference/announcement last November, they established the premise of a new album with Iommi, Osbourne, Butler and Ward. Together with producer Rick Rubin and apparent fan ambassador Henry Rollins (who elected him to that role remains a mystery, but he keeps showing up in it), they discussed what a new Black Sabbath album with the original lineup would be, what it would sound like and how it would come together. They said, in effect, “We are a group of musicians who have come together to create something that is definitively Black Sabbath.”

If Black Sabbath is going to be defined then as the original lineup — and I’d gladly argue that was the tone of the press conference — then without Bill Ward‘s contributions to the songs in writing his own drum parts, the character of the band changes. It’s not the reunion they said it would be, but instead a new incarnation of the band that happens to be fronted by Osbourne and have Butler on bass. Those passionate about the idea of regrouping the original Sabbath are right to feel betrayed: Without Bill Ward in the songwriting process, they invariably won’t be getting the product they were promised.

And in that, Ward is not blameless. If he felt his contract untenable, he shouldn’t have taken the stage with the band in November and said he was on board for the reunion. However much you like these people or think they’re not out to screw you over — and however much they might not actually be — that’s just bad business, and a band that makes as much money as Black Sabbath does on a reunion tour is unavoidably a business. It’s naive to think otherwise.

Best case scenario for a new Black Sabbath album was that the original lineup put out a record that was a decent answer to Heaven and Hell‘s The Devil You Know, that wasn’t a complete AutoTuned embarrassment that sullied the already-tried legacy of the band’s highest creative peaks. But even so, the proposition was special because it was the four of them doing it. When I interviewed Eric Wagner in December, he discussed his relationship with his former bandmates in Trouble and said, ” Those four guys are the only ones who know what it was like to do what we did… I can talk to them and they know exactly what I mean and what it felt like and what we went through.”

No doubt in my mind that Tommy Clufetos is a capable drummer. He wouldn’t have been in Osbourne‘s band if he wasn’t. But in terms of the bond between the original members of Black Sabbath — everything they’ve seen and done together, how they’ve triumphed and fallen apart and hated each other and been best friends — no one else can stand in for Bill Ward. That’s why Bill Ward matters.

But not only that. Bill Ward matters to the fans. I’m not talking about the people above who show up on a Friday night because it’s something to do. I’m talking about those of us who, to one degree or another, live by this music. Ozzy Osbourne is a famous person; untouchable. Tony Iommi is a god; thoroughly unapproachable. Geezer Butler — bless his genius heart — is the (endearing) model for doom-dude awkwardness. Of the original four, Bill Ward is the one I believe most when he says he loves Black Sabbath‘s fans. Whether he actually does or not is a secondary concern at best — he engages the followers of Black Sabbath in a way and on a level that the other founding members simply do not.

For a band whose influence has had the cross-generational reach that Sabbath‘s has had, that’s an important function to play. Without Bill Ward, the fans to whom the band really matters can’t fool ourselves into thinking they’re doing it for any reason other than the money, and even if they worked everything out at this point and Ward rejoined the songwriting process and they picked up right where they left off before going to the UK to work on account of Iommi‘s lymphoma diagnosis and treatment, some of “the magic” is already gone.

That wouldn’t be the case if Bill Ward didn’t matter.

Iommi, Osbourne, Butler, Ward. Don’t promise Oreos if you’re bringing Chips Ahoy.