What a coincidence that Ancestors‘ new album, In Dreams and Time will be out just around when the band heads to Europe for appearances at Desertfest and Roadburn. Man, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear these things were planned out ahead of time. In any case, I’m very much looking forward to hearing how Ancestors follow-up last year’s excellent Invisible White EP (review here), the stylistic divergence of which was both unexpected and gloriously accomplished, particularly on the title-track.

The following PR wire info doesn’t exactly give the answer to that question, but it does add further intrigue in a quote from guitarist Justin Maranga. Check it out:

Los Angeles psychedelic prog-rock band Ancestors will release its new album In Dreams and Time on April 10 via Tee Pee Records. Recorded in east L.A.’s Infrasonic Sound (Queens of the Stone Age, Best Coast, Xasthur), the record showcases the band’s most accomplished music to date and a creative sound that morphs from thunderous cacophony to soul-searching peaks and valleys as towering riffs collide with bleak beauty and deep wells of light and dark.

“In Dreams and Time feels like the culmination of everything we’ve done so far,” says Ancestors guitarist Justin Maranga. “The record incorporates elements of everything that we’ve come to feel that Ancestors is, as well as new things that we’ve never tried. We’re hoping that it will tie together fans of our previous albums Neptune with Fire, Of Sound Mind and Invisible White who may or may not have connected one release or the other, while hopefully helping us reach a new audience. We’re excited about it.”

The track listing for Ancestors’ In Dreams and Time is as follows:
1. Whispers
2. The Last Return
3. Corryvreckan
4. On the Wind
5. Running in Circles
6. First Light

Ancestors have also announced the addition of new drummer Daniel Pouliot (Horse the Band, ex-Bleeding Kansas) to its ranks and have been confirmed for both the 2012 Desertfest and the 2012 Roadburn Festival, where the band will share the stage with Killing Joke, Michael Gira, Chelsea Wolfe and more.

As one might expect, Los Angeles rockers Caveman Voicebox don’t exactly play it subtle on their debut EP, Strippers, Mullets and Beer. Released through what appears to be their own Faceslapper Records in December 2011, the five-songer is a quick 15-minutes, and though there are few surprises sonically in that time – the longest song, the closer “Mindset,” caps at 3:20 – and though the first word on opener “Forsaken Place” is “whiskey,” Caveman Voicebox still are less sleazy than one might think going into a first listen. That’s either a positive or negative, depending on your personal taste, but with the Orange Goblin by way of Motörhead burl they offer instead, it’s hard to complain. The songs, written by bassist/vocalist Graham Wilson, are structurally simple but varied in mood and over fast enough to hold even fickle attention, and the vocals touch on melody without overdoing it or sacrificing a natural feel to get some kind of misguided commercialism. A song like EP centerpiece “After What She Said” strikes a decent balance between catchy hooks and riffy groove, and as far as straightforward American-style heavy rock goes, Caveman Voicebox give a strong first showing, if one perhaps overly mindful of the aesthetic concerns of their genre.

By that I mean that even unto its title, Strippers, Mullets and Beer seems to be reaching for a specific idea of what boozy stoner-style rock and roll is, rather than focusing itself on crafting the songs and worrying about where they fit genre-wise after the fact. The beer I’ll give you, but the strippers and the mullets? Well, maybe, maybe not. In that regard, “Mindset” is actually the strongest of the songs here. Although it doesn’t come close to the infectious octane of “Forsaken Place,” Wilson positions the EP’s final statement lyrically as a kind of insider nod to the heavy rock scene – “You’ve got the time and the money/Ain’t got the mindset” – and placed with self-awareness in a genre looking out, it works better than “’72 Nova,” which seems to turn a blind eye to its unoriginality rather than acknowledge it. We all know it’s not the first song ever written about a car and a girl, and where “Mindset” offers some personality on the part of Caveman Voicebox by saying in effect, “we know exactly what we’re doing and it’s all on purpose,” the earlier cut wants to pretend that’s not the case. It’s a kind of anti-pretense pretense, and it’s only not more of an issue than it is because of the strength of Wilson’s songwriting. Joining Alfred Cruz and Mike McKnight’s guitars is a bluesy slide guest spot from Eric Dover (Slash’s Snakepit) that adds character to the already barn-burning energy, and though the Doug Carrion (Descendants) production doesn’t quite beef up the guitars as one might think, the added feeling of rawness winds up an asset working in the band’s favor.

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As guitarist/vocalist Scott Hill said the band would in our interview this past November, Fu Manchu have announced a slew of tour dates playing their 1997 classic The Action is Go front to back. One can only assume/hope that American dates will follow the European ones that have been made public, and look forward to staring into the “Evil Eye.” If the tour they did playing all of In Search Of… was anything to go by, this should be a blast.

Here’s the poster. Click to enlargify if you don’t like looking at tiny dates:

If you’re reading this and you celebrate either the Jesus-in-Christmas or the secularized Xmas, then chances are congratulations are in order: You’ve made it through another one. The Patient Mrs. and I got back a little bit ago from the last of the familial hoedowns, and with that, an episode of Iron Chef America and our collected loot strewn about the place in Roman-style excess, the evening seems to have come to a conclusion. I hope you had a good one.

Since Friday was my office party and — class act that I am — I got loaded early, I never officially closed out the week, and I thought some Blue Cheer would be the way to go. In the car up to Connecticut and back yesterday and today it was Deep Purple, Sungrazer, Warning and Kyuss, but holiday Cheer is about as close as I get to holiday cheer, so I hope you enjoy it. I haven’t drooled over Outsideinside in a couple weeks anyway, so I’m due.

If you’re in the US and don’t have to work tomorrow, I hope your weekend continues to be excellent and that you get to relax a bit before having to cram five days’ worth of work into four the rest of this week. If Xmas isn’t in line with either your belief system, you’re celebrating Hanukkah, Lemmy‘s birthday, something else or nothing at all, I hope you had a good weekend whatever it may have entailed.

Along with a shit-ton of laundry, tomorrow I’m going to try to make my way through reviewing the new BeenObscene album, and this week I’ll have Six Dumb Questions with guitarist/graphic artist Scott Stearns of the recently-reviewed Bibilic Blood and the semi-recently-reviewed Morbid Wizard, as well as, I think some new music from Dwellers, who were reviewed just a couple days ago. Very timely around here all of a sudden.

In any case, much fun to come this week, so please, stay tuned. In the meantime, see you on the forum and back here tomorrow for more good times.

I thought to honor the gorgeousness of the recently-unveiled packaging of the Wino/Conny Ochs collaboration — click the photo below to make it massive — we’d do some acoustic stuff this week. The clip at the bottom of this post of the Weinrich-original “I Don’t Care” and the Townes Van Zandt cover “Nothin’” was filmed at the Volcom (you might know them as the people who released the Premonition 13 album) store in Los Angeles way back in January.

This was just a couple weeks before Wino hit the road alongside Shrinebuilder bandmate Scott Kelly on an acoustic tour in support of Adrift and a split 7″ single between them, but I’d hardly call the performance rough. He nails the restless angst of “I Don’t Care” and manages to elicit whoops and yells from the crowd during “Nothin’” in the solo at the end. The energy is there, is what I’m trying to say.

And given the odd setting near a shirt rack and the clarity of sound and video for this clip, it was an easy choice. Enjoy “I Don’t Care” and “Nothin’” and the rest of your Wino Wednesday:

Admittedly, I didn’t see this one coming. After releasing 2010′s Snakes for the Divine, which had its blistering moments but ultimately seemed to be working to clean up High on Fire‘s now-trademarked dirty thrash sound, the seminal Oakland outfit have announced teaming with Converge‘s Kurt Ballou for the recording of their next studio outing. One thing about Ballou: Damn near everything out of his studio sounds heavy as fuck. The prospect of a new High on Fire record just got much more interesting.

Fresh off the PR wire:

Oakland, CA, hard rock band High on Fire has entered Salem, Massachusetts‘ GodCity Studios to begin tracking their as-yet-untitled new album. The world renowned group featuring drummer Des Kensel, bassist Jeff Matz and guitarist / vocalist Matt Pike (also of legendary stoner metal trio Sleep) is collaborating with producer and Converge guitarist Kurt Ballou on the new effort; the band’s sixth studio recording and follow up to 2010′s Snakes for the Divine. A mid-2012 release date is expected via eOne Music.

“We are really stoked about recording this album,” said Jeff Matz when asked for comment. “The new songs are turning out absolutely punishing; there are some seriously sledgehammer riffs on this one! Working with Kurt has been awesome as well. He’s super easy to work with and is full of good ideas. The sounds that the guy gets are ridiculous and raw as f*ck but also clear and HUGE. I think this album will capture the essence of the band really well. It’s still early in the process, but so far it’s sounding amazing.”

Tentative song titles from the new High on Fire LP include “Serums of Liao,” “Madness of an Architect,” “De Vermis Mysteriis,” “Spiritual Rites” and “Warhorn.” Early reports mark the new record as “direct, eye-opening and powerfully supernatural.” More details on the album will be made available in the coming weeks.

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:

Aaron Edge has been in more bands than you and I can count — even if we use all our fingers together. One of those bands was Roareth, who just so happened to be the first band I ever released on The Maple Forum. Their Acts I-VI, which was excellent, is long gone, and so is the band, because that’s how it goes. Aaron‘s post-Roareth project, Swallowing Swords, is also already defunct.

But time marches on, and as Ozzy once taught us, the wicked find no rest. Relocated from Seattle to Los Angeles, Aaron Edge now resurfaces with Peril on the Sea, the latest in the long line. They’ve got a page on Thee Facebooks with a few songs of ass-kicking, undulating nautical doom. Well worth a look.

In the meantime, here’s the announcement Aaron sent over:

Aaron Edge (of 2 Men Dead, Brothers of the Sonic Cloth, Eshas, Genuine, Grievous, Harkonen, Hauler, Hellephant, Himsa, Iamthethorn, Les Gants, Requin, Roareth, Rote Hexe, Swallowing Swords, Swearengen, The Horde, Tsuga, West of Zero, etc.) has been writing and recording three EPs’-worth of heavy songs over the last two years, and the first has finally reached the light of day. All five tracks from the first EP, entitled Voyage, the First, have been uploaded to the Facebook page.

Check it all out, download all five songs for free…

If you like what you hear, please share the page/songs with others.

It’s not long, but heavy riffing four-piece Snail does a lot of work in the 2:42 that comprises “Galaxies’ Lament.” The track is the first audio the band has released from their new album, Terminus, which follows two years after the excellent Blood, released by MeteorCity. Terminus is pretty high on my list of most-anticipated 2012 releases (still under construction), and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one.

But Snail have an innate and well-honed ability to write memorable songs, and that comes through on “Galaxies’ Lament.” Make it through the song a couple times and you’ll find yourself returning to it more and more. In that way, it’s a perfect lead-in for Terminus, since that’s pretty much the case the band across the board. Of course I’ll have more on the record as the release plans firm up. As of now, the latest is: 2012.

Until next year rolls around, then, enjoy “Galaxies’ Lament,” and thanks to Snail for continuing to kick ass:

Although still centered around the guitars of Evan Caminiti and Jon Porras, the second album from San Francisco’s Barn Owl through Thrill Jockey finds the duo beginning to further branch out of themselves. Lost in the Glare maintains the heady soundscapes of its predecessor, 2010’s Ancestral Star, but revels in deceptively complex “minimalism” that includes manipulated cassettes, bass clarinet, and (gasp!) drums, which serve as well-placed landmarks for the full-length’s eight tracks. There are still plenty of stretches where it’s just Caminiti and Porras, but the deviation from that formula is what gives Lost in the Glare its character, which nestles somewhere between Hex-era Earth’s Americana and the ethereal inaccessibility of SunnO)))’s amplifier overload. Barn Owl place themselves in solid company sound-wise, and don’t so much innovate the notion of what drone is as add their personality to it – I acknowledge that might be splitting hairs, but what I mean is that as evocative as some of this material is, it’s that evocation that’s most particular to what Barn Owl does, rather than the sounds themselves. There are a lot of people who plug in guitars and sustain notes for unreasonable amounts of time, feed through effects and loops and build impossible tension and crescendos therefrom, but far fewer who do it as richly as does Barn Owl on Lost in the Glare.

Still, especially for the material on which Jacob Felix Heule contributes drums, the principal point of comparison is Earth. Naturally, those tracks – “Turiya,” “Midnight Tide,” and “Devotion II” most prominently, though gong washes show up on “Devotion I” as well along with tanpura courtesy of The Alps’ Michael Elrod – come off as more structured than some of the others, but even opener “Pale Star,” which is among the farther-ranging cuts on Lost in the Glare, has some sense of progression to it, and when the abrasive feedback cuts out with just under a minute left, there’s a sense that the song is over and what you’re hearing is a sustained conclusion. Such is the method by which the album teaches the listener how to read it. Barn Owl follow “Pale Star” with the aforementioned “Turiya” and move briskly through the song at a pace set by Heule, with Caminiti and Porras playing distinctly off each other rather than working in tandem to create a general wash as they did on the opener. It’s not fast by any stretch, but “Turiya” is one of the album’s most active moments, with Heule keeping time on the ride and adding tom flourishes to the midsection. With the gradual development of “Devotion I,” the lushness of “Pale Star” is affirmed. The song starts with echoing guitar and moves gracefully into psychedelic melodiousness; the gong and tanpura giving a classic Western feel to classically Eastern ideas. Caminiti and Porras don’t so much step aside for Elrod as they did on “Turiya” for Heule’s drumming, but the fluidity of the former’s contribution and punctuating nature of the latter’s add to the overall versatility of the droning. It’s as peaceful as it is complex.

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Less than 24 hours after Michael Bloomberg gave an unceremonious middle-of-the-night boot to the protestors at Occupy Wall Street, I parked just blocks away from where the tumult had taken place (by all reports, the Occupiers were back in Zuccotti Park by then) and made my way around the corner to Santos Party House to catch Fu Manchu playing their In Search Of… record in its entirety. It was my third time at the NYC venue this year – see Orange Goblin, see Weedeater — and like at those two shows, I was surprised immediately at how crowded it was. There was a line outside before the doors opened.

I don’t know if that means Santos generally pulls people in, or if there’s something happening around heavy rock that no one told me about — always the last to know — but people milled about early waiting for SoCal trio The Shrine to open he night, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say it looked like a happening scene. Pretty sure it wasn’t sold out, but the room was certainly full for both Honky and even more so for Fu Manchu, and what’s more, people knew the songs. The crowd wasn’t just hipsters, though some of that element was there, and young and old, everyone seemed to be there for the music. I don’t remember the last time I left a show in New York feeling that way.

There was something liberating in flying blind into The Shrine‘s set. I didn’t even know they were from California until I heard them tell someone else on line outside as they stood in front of their van — I had somehow just figured they were local, and perhaps on the bill as a last-minute Brooklynite replacement for Naam, who were too busy preparing for their European tour with Black Rainbows to make it down. That’s what I get for assuming.

Watching them play was like seeing the future of Volcom. They were the youngest act of the night and played like it — the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Josh Landau, bassist Courtland Murphy and drummer Jeff Murray — were excited and excitable. There was enough punkish energy and immediacy in their songs to offset the riffy ’70s swagger, and one of their songs started out so charmingly Sabbathian that I thought of fellow Californians Orchid, who seem to be the reigning American champs for that type of thing. I don’t know if I’d check it out every week, but I wanted to buy their 7″, didn’t, and was disappointed later for not.

In a fantastic bout of self-bargaining, I’d decided to allow myself three beers on the night. I’m on a self-imposed, much-needed dry-out, and anyway, had to drive home when the show was over. So three beers. Three beers for three bands. I’d already had two by the time Honky went on.

Somehow though, in the midst of all Honky‘s Texan charm — two out of the three of them in cowboy hats, they said they were from, “London, Eng-land” and bemoaned the cost of beer — I managed to keep to my limit. And Honky, who haven’t had a record out since 2005′s Balls Out Inn, killed. They served as an excellent transition into the good-times but still ultra-heavy sounds Fu Manchu would elicit, and by the time they were through the first song, I don’t think there was a head there who wasn’t aboard for what they were doing.

Bassist J.D. Pinkus and guitarist Bobby Ed led the charge on vocals, and drummer Justin Collins made sure that as out of hand as things got, they never actually were. Hats were tipped, drinks were sipped: It was boozy, Southern and heavy, and stoic as New Yorker crowds are, Honky was a lot of fun. Last time I saw them was in their native Austin, Texas, and they weren’t in their element at Santos like they were then, but they weren’t far off. Pinkus‘ Butthole Surfers bandmate Gibby Haynes stood on the side of the stage and watched them play, bobbing and smiling with glee as they tore their setlist a new asshole.

These things happened: They sent “Plugs, Mugs, Jugs” out to “Handsome” Joel Svatek, who worked the door at Emo’s in Austin until he was struck by a drunk driver in 2003 (Arclight Records released a tribute in his honor that Honky was featured on along with Mastodon, Amplified Heat, SuperHeavyGoatAss and two discs’ worth of others), covered Pat Travers‘ “Snortin’ Whiskey,” and brought out Fu Manchu guitarist Bob Balch to close out a solo during “Love to Smoke Your Weed,” Bobby Ed‘s slide guitar putting in some good work beforehand. They were like ZZ Top without any of that pesky class. It was lots — and I mean lots — of fun.

Ditto that for the Fu, who ran through some swift foreplay with “Hell on Wheels,” “Open Your Eyes,” “Boogie Van” and “Evil Eye” before getting down to business with In Search Of… front to back. They were tight, just about all the stops dead on, and it was excellent to hear the songs run into each other differently on stage than on the record, big rock finishes and so forth. “Regal Begal” got things under way, and they went onward to glory. I thought my head would explode halfway through “Neptune’s Convoy.” It was fucking awesome.

The hazard, though, of the complete-album gig is that sometimes there’s some filler, and Fu Manchu have had their share over the years. Some of those songs toward the end of In Search Of... are cool and all, but there’s a reason they’re back there and “Asphalt Risin’” is up front. Still, they kept the crowd with them. Scott Hill was pretty much shouting his vocals by the end, which ruled and underscored his Cali-punk roots, and I don’t know how he did it, but bassist Brad Davis looked like he barely broke a sweat. Dude’s riding some of the fattest grooves ever — period — and to look at him, he could be folding laundry. It’s like he lives in the pocket. It was a sight to behold.

And a sound to hear. Fu Manchu have had some serious players in their lineup over the years. Brant Bjork on drums comes to mind, and guitarist Eddie Glass and drummer Ruben Romano who both played on In Search Of… went on to form Nebula. But Bob Balch nailed those solos and added his own flavor to both them and each one of those landmark riffs, and on the purported occasion of his birthday (or so Hill said when telling everyone in the room to buy him shots; he wound up with eight), drummer Scott Reeder was smooth where he needed to be and pushed those older songs further than I thought they could go.

Only bummer was that as “Supershooter” capped the regular set and the band came back out for a two-song encore of “Weird Beard” and “Godzilla,” they didn’t play any material less than a decade old. I know a lot of bands I only wish would do that, but it might have been cool to have one song from either Signs of Infinite Power or We Must Obey. No time, I guess.

Nevertheless, Honky came back out for the rousing take on “Godzilla” that served as just one more reminder of how killer the show had actually been. The melee finished right around midnight, which I can only assume was curfew for Santos, and Fu Manchu sent us poor, hapless souls out into the NYC rain; a long, long way from the Californian sunshine that seems to emanate from their stalwart fuzz pedals.

Good people, classic tunes, good times. I popped open my laptop in my car to get the pictures off my camera on my trip back to the valley, in some misguided effort to save some time for today. It didn’t work out, but whatever. Extra pics are after the jump, as always. Special thanks to SabbathJeff for reviewing the show on the forum.

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Released in February 1996, In Search Of… in many ways is the definitive Fu Manchu record. Their third outing behind 1995′s Daredevil and their 1994 full-length debut, No One Rides for Free (several 7″s and compilation appearances showed up between 1990-1993), it was the first time the four-piece perfectly balanced their laid back, surfer’s groove with the SoCal punk and hardcore that inspired them to get their start in the outfit Virulence, whose 1985 demo tracks were released on Southern Lord in 2009.

It would also wind up being the last Fu Manchu album to feature guitarist Eddie Glass and drummer Ruben Romano, who would soon splinter off to form Nebula. Alongside bassist Brad Davis, who came aboard for Daredevil (Mark Abshire played on the debut), and guitarist/vocalist/founder Scott Hill, Glass and Romano helped make In Search Of… a landmark of fuzz — one of a short list of heavy rock records you could truly call quintessential.

To celebrate the album’s 15th anniversary, Fu Manchu — now Hill and Davis with guitarist Bob Balch and drummer Scott Reeder — took to the road. Having long abided by their love of touring and putting out records, they endeavored across Europe playing special sets that included In Search Of… front to back. In addition, having completed their two-album deal with Century Media following the albums We Must Obey (2007) and Signs of Infinite Power (2009), they reissued In Search Of… on vinyl in a limited run and promptly sold it out.

This month, they’re bringing that entire-album tour idea Stateside, and as Scott Hill reveals in the interview that follows, there may be more like-minded touring in their future as they also secure the rights to and reissue other records through their own At the Dojo imprint. Hill discusses some of the practicalities of touring and making the band self-sustaining, and reflects on the 15 years since the release of In Search Of…, while also looking ahead to the inevitable next installment in the Fu Manchu catalog to come.

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

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Like a lot of people, I feel safe saying one of the heaviest live shows I’ve ever seen was a Black Cobra show. Unlike a lot of people, I can say the gig took place in a shoe museum. Yup, that’s right: a shoe museum. As in a museum… for shoes. Wanna know something else? Torche played too.

I was in Los Angeles on a pseudo-business trip, and in between squandering my savings at Amoeba Records and eating the best Mexican food I’d ever had, I caught wind of Black Cobra being in town. Can’t say it was much of a surprise, since Black Cobra‘s reputation for touring so damn much is well earned and they can pretty much pop up anywhere at any time, but when I walked into the place and saw the shoes belonging to former and/or dead A-list celebrities, well yeah, it felt a little surreal.

That was 2006. Black Cobra had just released their first album, Bestial, and were really just starting to amass their cred as a live band. Since that time, they’ve put out three more records — the latest being the stellar Invernal (review here) on Southern Lord — and have come to be recognized as one of the most brutal acts in their generation of Heavy. They’re outclassed by none in terms of performance, and for being comprised solely of guitarist/vocalist Jason Landrian and drummer Rafa Martinez, their presence is staggering.

Invernal was produced by Converge guitarist Kurt Ballou in his Godcity Recording Studio in what Landrian reveals was a matter of days; even fewer than either the band or the respected engineer/mixer thought going into the project. The album is righteous in its intensity and focus, and working from Antarctic themes lyrically and musically, comprises some of the most pummeling Black Cobra material to date. To be blunt, they’ve outdone themselves, and as much as they’re known for being a live band more than a studio band, Invernal deals any such characterizations a decisive blow.

From his home in foggy San Francisco, Landrian took my call and discussed working with Ballou and what his and Martinez‘s time at Godcity was like, their upcoming tour with Kyuss Lives! and The Sword (I went right for the hard-hitting questions on that one, as you’ll see), the thematics at play with Invernal, how he and Martinez work together in the studio and on the road, and much more.

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

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“Fuck your drama/I’m too old/To give a damn.” The lines, taken from “Mange,” the second track of Ogressa’s debut, Warts and All, more or less sum of the entirety of the album’s approach. The Californian desert rock four-piece is centered around the collaboration between Dali’s Llama mastermind Zach Huskey and Whores of Tijuana’s Trent Ramseyer, who share vocal duties while Huskey also handles guitar and is the primary songwriter and Ramseyer engineered the recording. Released on Dali’s Llama Records and bolstered by the rhythm section of drummer Ian Dye and bassist Mike Jacobson –Scott Reeder also makes several appearances on bass – Ogressa’s heavy rock shares Dali’s Llama’s bullshit-free ethic as much as possible, offering crunching riffs, belted vocals and heady grooves that ask next to no indulgences. Warts and All keeps a semi-thematic edge tied to the excellent comic art of Sean “Skillit” McEleny (also Admiral Browning, etc.), with cuts like the sound-effects interlude “She Awakens” and “Lady Ogress” playing directly to the band’s moniker in a way more lighthearted than the “concept-album” tag might indicate. And for what it’s worth, Warts and All isn’t a concept album, unless you’re looking at it on a stylistic level and the concept in question is burly riff rock. Even that Ogressa veer from, however, with the jazzy take on The Mutants’ “The Boss” (Joe Dillon of Dali’s Llama guests on guitar) and the acoustic-led highlight “Sonoran Debris” offering variety in the record’s midsection.

In that way, it’s easy and perhaps best to think of Warts and All in thirds. The album divides almost evenly along those lines – the middle is made an extra minute longer with the inclusion of “She Awakens”; 17 as opposed to the first and last thirds, which are three cuts totaling just over 16 each – and Ogressa opens strongly with the catchy “Give Me Some Space,” “Mange” and “Rational Man,” the last of which marks the first appearance from Reeder. Huskey’s writing style is straightforward as ever, and where Dali’s Llama took a different (and charming) look at horror rock kitsch on Howl Do You Do? last year, Ogressa keep to thicker guitars that match well with Ramseyer’s throaty-but-still-clean vocals. That said, flourishes of acoustic flamenco on “Give Me Some Space” are an unexpected treat and a step away from the bluesy shuffle of much of the material on Warts and All, but still fluid within the song and subtly telegraphing some of the variety to come. “Mange” is shorter than the opener (which is the longest song on the album; immediate points) and can afford to be more straight-ahead in its approach on the strength of the chorus noted above, which is backed by a descending riff from Huskey and solid drums and backing vocals in the bridge from Dye. The progression of that chorus riff – almost a simpler take on Kyuss’ “Thumb” in a different key – makes “Rational Man” seem upbeat by comparison. The change from Jacobson to Reeder on bass is noticeable, but not so much as to upset the overall flow of the album, and of course the former Kyuss and The Obsessed four-stringer is well at home in anything closely related to the desert, Ogressa included. His lines mostly stick with the rhythm guitar line (Dillon also guests here, to further thicken the proceedings), but the end of “Rational Man” is one of Warts and All’s finest grooves.

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Last time, we took a look at some classic heavy ’70s artwork from Atomic Rooster and Buffalo, and that was fun, but let’s face it, there’s bigger fish to fry. For example, now that Californian desert legends Kyuss have been (mostly) resurrected in the form of the appropriately-exclamatory Kyuss Lives!, it becomes more necessary than ever to examine the legacy they left behind them in their first run. Kyuss: The gods of the ’90s desert!

The question in part comes down to lineup. For 1992′s Blues for the Red Sun, Kyuss consisted of drummer Brant Bjork, guitarist Josh Homme, bassist Nick Oliveri and vocalist John Garcia. Of those four, it was Bjork and Oliveri principally responsible for the songwriting. That remained true for 1994′s Kyuss, which would later adopt the unofficial title Welcome to Sky Valley (often shortened as just Sky Valley), but the swapping out of bassist Scott Reeder in place of Oliveri — a process which, it could be argued, is under way again now in Kyuss Lives! — had a huge impact on the band’s sound, accordingly with an increase in confidence, establishment of aesthetic, etc.

What’s not up for debate, however, is that these are two of the most classic and pivotal desert rock albums of all time. With landmark songs like “Thumb,” “Green Machine” and the truly post-punk “Allen’s Wrench,” Blues for the Red Sun helped set in motion the genre that would be centered around Palm Desert and the surrounding area, but the vision wasn’t completely realized until two years later, when Sky Valley was released. Broken into three larger movements, tracks like “Supa Scoopa and Mighty Scoop,” “100 Degrees,” the softer “Space Cadet” and the instrumental “Asteroid” solidified the sound that the prior album had proposed, arguing not just for its artistic relevance, but for the imperative blend of atmosphere and classic influence that has come to typify true desert rock.

But as much as that’s true, you couldn’t have had the one without the other. I know where my heart and listening habits place me, but what about you? Desert island scenario (or maybe just desert, if that’s more appropriate), you can only have one or the other. Which is more pivotal in terms of its influence, and which would you rather just hear for the rest of your life to the exclusion of the other? These seem like big questions — because both records are so great — but that’s why The Debate Rages.

Please cast your votes in the comments.