Black Friday takes its name not from the shadow that consumerism at large casts on American culture, but from the simple fact that it’s the day that moves most stores from the red into the black for the year. It’s when they start turning a profit. Seeing an opportunity to continue their mission of promoting independent music culture, the fine folks behind Record Store Day got involved this year, bolstering the event with special releases and other initiatives. I’d expect more of that kind of thing next year.

Late last month, when I was at Redscroll Records in Wallingford, Connecticut, on my apparently annual autumn pilgrimage, I was given a flyer for their Black Friday specials, and knowing that I was going to be in the state for the Thanksgiving holiday, kindly suggested to The Patient Mrs. that I might like to wake up early and hit up the sale, which was 25 percent off everything in stock except for turntables.

So it was. My alarm went off yesterday at 5:35AM, and when I walked into Redscroll at 6:02 or thereabouts, the place was already full. Outside, the sun was just starting to think about rising. As I suspected I might, I had the CD racks mostly to myself (at least as compares to vinyl — LPs are by far the priority for the shop), but it was easily the most crowded I’d ever seen it. People were friendly, though, making way for each other and handing off releases to other potential buyers. I used the 25 percent discount as an excuse to pick up a few odds and ends, most of which I’d already heard, but hadn’t gotten full copies of, and other discs I’d wanted to grab this year that I hadn’t gotten the chance.

For example, I long since own Sovereign by Neurosis, but a quarter off the price was enough for me to grab the 2011 reissue, and stuff like Candlemass‘ Ashes to Ashes live record and Place of Skulls‘ As a Dog Returns had just kind of slipped through the cracks in terms of getting a physical copy. I bought The Body & Braveyoung‘s Nothing Passes to include in the next podcast (no big surprise: it sounds totally fucked), and was hoping to nab The Atlas Moth‘s An Ache for the End for the same reason, but they were out of it, and I drowned my sorrows in some cheap George Carlin, Goblin and Free instead.

Now that I’ve heard the low-end centric mega-grooves of Saturnalia Temple‘s Aion of Drakon, I’m officially stoked to check them out at Roadburn next year. And because I haven’t been able to leave there without doing so the last couple times I’ve been, I picked up a Cable CD, this time the 2008 reissue of their first album, Variable Speed Drive, the original version of which I’ve been hunting on eBay for a bit with no real success.

It was just over $100 for 10 discs, which wasn’t bad and was enough to earn me a free Redscroll t-shirt that I’ll wear proudly. I went back to the motel and crashed out for a couple more hours before getting up and heading south back to Jersey to go to work, and after that, on the way further south to Maryland, I requested yet another stop from The Patient Mrs., this one to Vintage Vinyl, to pick up that Atlas Moth record and settle the matter once and for all. I also got a full copy of Invisible White by Ancestors. Both at full price, and neither with any regret.

Vintage Vinyl in the evening was empty compared to Redscroll in the morning, which was troubling, since that’s pretty much the only shop in New Jersey where I can do something like stop in and pick up an Atlas Moth or an Ancestors CD and be confident that they’ll actually have such a thing. I know they had stocked some of the Record Store Day Black Friday special releases, but hopefully they come around to the sale stuff too, because god damn, I’d hate to lose that place as a resource.

In the meantime, a package showed up in the mail yesterday from All That is Heavy with a copy of Master Sleeps by Hills, which is jammier than I thought it would be, and the Rise Above reissue of Necromandus‘ Orexis of Death, which Tony “I Have Excellent Fucking Taste and Stone Axe is My Band to Prove It” Reed recommended a while back I make mine. Altogether, this probably represents the bulk of the music I’ll buy through the end of 2011, so it was good to send the year out with a bang. I should have plenty to keep me busy until January comes.

The keyword, then, is “balance” the whole way through, and that idea comes through Josh’s performance as well as the most prominent figure in the band and the one who started VRSA through experimentations at his Last Bastion Studio. His vocals range from well-mixed background metal screaming to melodic croons, and are layered but natural in their arrangements so that the other players in the band could easily take on the response roles in a live setting. “Meteorite” is the longest cut on Galaxia at 11:13 (immediate points for it being the opener) and stands itself out thanks to a chugging central riff and more strummed chorus that offset angular turns with smooth rhythmic execution. Van Note and John are fluid in following and expanding on the main riff, and three minutes into the song, Andrius embarks on one of Galaxia’s many impressive solos. Rather than putting on a clinic, though, in typical prog fashion, VRSA work well to bring the performances together as one complex whole, and that comes through in the mix of “Meteorite,” which highlights the individuals while celebrating what they do as a contribution to a larger idea. Josh and Andrius work well together on guitar, and that’s no less true in the long break section underscored by low-mixed sampled speech (Carl Sagan is credited in the liner notes with “spoken words,” obviously sampled, but I believe that’s referring to “Mona Lisa’s Eye”) than in the heavier crunch of the chorus riff to which VRSA eventually return, using a tinny digital compression that sounds a bit like a low-bitrate mp3 as one of several effects on the guitars and bass, on which van Note shines to end the track and lead directly into “My Fingers Feel Like Razorblades.” A volume and cymbal swell serves for easy transition, and though the song is among Galaxia’s most progressive stretches, Josh keeps his vocals mostly on the harsher side, breaking from screams and growls only for a throaty chorus.

As the definition of prog has expanded over the last decade, that’s not exactly groundbreaking, but it is presented smoothly, and the screams where and when they occur on Galaxia never feel out of place, and that includes “My Fingers Feel Like Razorblades,” which hits with an intensity worthy of the title until a big slowdown about halfway through. But for that, the song reminds somewhat of the achievements Cynic were able to pull off on their 2008 return opus, Traced in Air, and that holds true for the smoother vibe of “Saturnalia” as well. Josh spaces out a purposefully monotone vocal with Galaxia’s doomiest lumbering riff, punctuating the resulting darker atmosphere with screams atop John’s bombastic tom work in the chorus. “Saturnalia” is probably Galaxia’s most melodically accomplished track, finding room in its eight minutes to also be the heaviest. A faster midsection leads to ambient guitar and gradually to Helmet-style riffing and the inevitable chorus section, punctuated by piano to accent Andrius and Josh, and even with all the ground they’ve covered, the acoustics that come to the fore over sampled radio frequencies at the beginning of “Mona Lisa’s Eye” are a surprise. “Mona Lisa’s Eye” is instrumental save for the Carl Sagan samples, and marked by alternately cascading and bluesy lead lines that eventually intertwine to create a landscape of melody. Although a more forward solo kicks in at 3:34 and leads to a payoff for the subtle build that takes place beneath, the song never really gets “heavy” – at least not in comparison to some of what VRSA do on these tracks – and winds up being stronger for it. Analog noise emerges from the end of the guitar line, gives way to chirping birds, and Galaxia ends with a whisper louder than some suddenly-cut roars.

With the construction of new material reportedly under way already and a new rhythm section in place of John and van Note, not to mention the manner in which the pieces of aesthetic that first showed themselves on Old Gray Man came to fruition here, VRSA’s next offering could take any number of forms, and that’s part of what works best about Galaxia. During some of the breaks, there are measures where it feels like the band is maybe losing their grasp on the material, but they never completely let go, and the patient, steady methodology they display in these songs does little to contradict the passion driving them. Prog isn’t everybody’s thing, but with a few anchors to meter out accessibility and the diversity that becomes the focal point (as opposed to, say, dry displays of technical prowess), VRSA’s greatest strength seems to be in creating harmony out of what in most hands come across as disparate ideas.

VRSA on Thee Facebooks

Last Bastion Studios

It had been or at least felt like a while since I did a good round of caution-and-common-sense-to-the-wind record shopping, which I find is good for the soul, and especially since my prior visit to the store had come up empty, I was stoked to make out pretty good this time. You can probably see the stack in the picture above, but in case you don’t feel like clicking to enlarge it, here’s the rundown:

Aldebaran, Buried Beneath Aeons
Cable, Cable
Desert Sessions, Vol. I/Vol. II
Desert Sessions, Vol. III/Vol. IV
Dove, Dove
Grayceon, All We Destroy
Orange Goblin, Time Travelling Blues
Patton Oswalt, Finest Hour
Reverend Bizarre, Death is Glory… Now!
Sunride, Magnetizer
VA, Judge Not…
Wooden Shjips, Dos
Wolves in the Throne Room, Celestial Lineage

Of those, I already own the Desert Sessions, Dove and Orange Goblin records — but I still have my reasons for buying each. The Orange Goblin was used, and as I looked at it on the shelf, I discovered it was the Japanese version of the record, with their cover of Trouble‘s “Black Shapes of Doom” for a bonus track. That cover originally appeared on the Bastards Will Pay tribute, and since I’ve never had any luck tracking down a copy of that (it’s in my canon of daily eBay searches), I figured all the more excuse to get the import on the cheap.

The Dove, on the other hand, is probably the least reasonable of the repeat offenses. Where the Desert Sessions stuff was priced new, it was also like $12 a pop, and screw it, if I’m already spending money, I’ll hit that up. I looked so hard for those CDs the first time around, I don’t mind having doubles. For the Dove disc, though, there really is no argument. It was there, it was used, and I bought it. It’s out of print, and I might use it in a trade or something at some point — hey, if anyone wants to switch it for that Trouble tribute, drop a line — but beyond that, it was an impulse and an excuse to revisit the album from the Floor offshoot, which I hadn’t heard in years.

Grayceon was one of two discs I knew I wanted to pick up going into the trip — the other was Rwake, which Redscroll was out of — and since I’ve had those songs stuck in my head for the last month, I was glad to have the full version of the album to sate that. That wasn’t used, but it is now. The Wolves in the Throne Room is also their latest record, which I had every intent of reviewing but never got around to, but only had a disc and top liner for. There’s always one or two tracks on their albums that justifies a purchase, and now I can take my time finding out which ones those are on Celestial Lineage. I don’t feel as bad for not reviewing it if I go out and buy the record.

I bought Sunride‘s Magnetizer (1998, Boundless Records) because of a discussion on the forum of the worst stoner rock albums ever. Not that it’s mentioned in there, but Sea of Green is, and I got the names mixed up in my head. I had wanted to buy it just to hear what the worst stoner rock ever sounded like. As Magnetizer isn’t even close to the worst stoner rock I’ve ever heard, I can’t help but feel like I inadvertently won out.

The Wooden Shjips I got because I need to review their new album, West, for work and wanted something to compare it to. It was used, as was the Underdogma Records compilation, Judge Not…, which proved yet again that I don’t like comps until they’re out of print and desirable for their obscurity. I don’t remember the last time I heard Ironboss (guns don’t kill people, they do), so I’ll take it, and with Gammera, Pale Divine, early The Quill and Puny Human on there, all the better. Two discs of heavy rock I didn’t own prior. Six bucks.

Buying Cable in Connecticut had some oddball novelty to me, and the 1997 comp of their early tracks was used and is raw as hell, so that was a yes, and I didn’t even know Patton Oswalt had a new record, but there it was. Since on his last special, he was talking all about his wife being pregnant, I figured this would be his “I have a kid now” material (every comic has it), and sure enough, it is. Still good. The Reverend Bizarre and Aldebaran discs were impulse buys — I grabbed the Aldebaran with all the forethought of snatching a pack of Reese’s on the way out of the grocery store — but reckless abandon is no fun if it’s not actually reckless, so there you go.

The Patient Mrs. — bless her heart — had come in a few moments prior to collect me so we could make our way back south to Jersey, but as we were leaving, the dudes behind the counter informed that they’ll be doing a special Black Friday sale post-Thanksgiving, opening at 6AM with markdowns on new and used CDs and vinyl — which, at this point, takes up a good deal of the room they have. Turns out I’ll be up that way for the holiday, so if I’m not all drowned out in vino and tryptophan, I may just make that happen for myself. Seems like it could be fun, anyway.

More info on that and the store is here, if you’re interested. I’ll spare you the lecture on preserving independent record-buying culture, because I think you probably know it by now, but anyway, they do good work.

I had four dollars to my name and spent them promptly on a can of High Life. Archon were already loaded in and ready to roll. The room — longer than it is wide, black-painted cinderblock or brick with drywall and cement floor, small stage and high ceiling — wasn’t full, but the turnout was decent given the probably five or six other shows happening down the block in Williamsburg. The dreadlocked/male contingent of Archon‘s vocalizing duo, Chris Dialogue, bassist Nikhil Kamineni and drummer Rajah Marcelo are all also members of Alkahest (album review here), so with vocalist Rachel Brown and guitarist Andrew Jude the only parties unaccounted for in that band, it was kind of like the two acts had merged on stage. Heavy as hell, either way.

Jude, who as I understand it writes most of the material, always seems to have one foot planted in Dopesmoker no matter the project he’s involved in — and that’s not a critique, since anyone who’s heard Archon‘s death/doom plod will tell you he’s doing more than merely aping the influence. Dialogue set up down in front of the stage on which the other four members of the band played and did the kind of thrashing around I’ve come to expect from his performances, his low growls and high screams sounding no less vicious for the physical exertion. His vocals and Brown‘s — mostly melodic, but with some screams in there as well — played off each other well, and though the bass seemed to be lost in the room through much of the night, there was sufficient low end to stand up to the multi-pronged assault.

That was true as well for When the Deadbolt Breaks. Like Archon, they’re a band I consider friends more than a group I’d be able to really review with total impartiality (which, as a concept, is a farce anyway), but I was glad to see them anyhow and hear Aaron Lewis‘ violent levels of volume. He and bassist Roman Garbacick shared screaming duties and, together with new drummer Rich Kalinowski, crafted a sound as foreboding as the band’s name. Kalinowski‘s china cymbal kept getting stuck up next to Lewis‘ Sunn rig, but he worked with it and it was far and away the best drumming When the Deadbolt Breaks has ever had. Lewis has been through a few rhythm sections and singers over the years, but with Garbacick and Kalinowski (sounds a little like a law firm), he has two presences in the band to complement his own.

One of my favorite aspects of Deadbolt‘s sound has always been the creepy parts. Lewis has always been patient in steering the band through these sections of malevolent ambience, and though the Acheron wasn’t ideal for Garbacick‘s heavy bass or Kalinowski‘s china, the black walls and forced-in sound did work with the psychologically disturbing elements of their approach. Of course, they contrast those stretches with hurtful sludge, so you have to take it with the context surrounding as well. At this point, I’ve seen and done shows with them so many times over the years I’d be hard-pressed to pick a favorite, but this might be the most together lineup When the Deadbolt Breaks have put together yet. Here’s hoping it sticks.

And it’s funny to think of it, but in a way, Earthride were the odd men out on their own bill. Archon and When the Deadbolt Breaks — whom Earthride vocalist Dave Sherman referred to as “Acheron” (the name of the venue) and “When the Deadbolt Strikes,” respectively — had enough similarities of approach between them to be cohesive, but throw in Earthride‘s more stonerly-directed riffing, laid back doom groove and always-charming (no sarcasm; see previous sentence) stage antics, and it was a whole different kind of heavy. Bassist Josh Hart and drummer Eric Little were even more in the pocket than at SHoD, and guitarist Kyle Van Steinberg, also of War Injun, busted into a few freakishly good solos. I’m not 100 percent, but I think they might also all have been stoned.

They opened with “Fighting the Devils Inside of You” from 2005′s Vampire Circus and moved into a few cuts from last year’s Something Wicked album, starting with the righteously grooving title-track and “Hacksaw Eyeball,” which Sherman noted was about the band’s hometown in Frederick, Maryland, and which underscored the point of how much Southern Lord missed the boat on not putting out that record. “Hacksaw Eyeball” might have been Sherman‘s best performance, taking the blown-out screams and cleaner choruses of the album version and bringing them to life, but I wouldn’t discount the riff-riding the frontman broke out for “Earthride,” arms stretched out in front of him, steering an invisible stoner rock chopper down I-95 to some freedom most of us will never see.

When they were finished, the crowd demanded another song, and with some discussion, they acquiesced. The place never really packed out, but it was clear that those who showed up knew why they were there. I left soon enough after they were done and headed back through Manhattan to pick up The Patient Mrs., who’d spent the evening among the ranks “occupying” Wall Street — and if you ever want a convenient metaphor for what our relationship is like, that’s it.

Like I alluded to earlier, it was the first of two nights in a row I’d be seeing Earthride. The second was at Asbury Lanes in the surprisingly built-up Asbury Park, NJ, where they were on the bill for (former) Solace guitarist Tommy Southard‘s wedding reception. I’d write about that too, but it seems tacky somehow to review someone’s nuptial celebrations, however much Shiner Bock I may have imbibed. Suffice it to say a good time was had by all (again), and Earthride delivered the doom as increasingly they seem to be the only ones able to do.

Many more pics after the jump.

Archon

When the Deadbolt Breaks

Earthride

This July 4, I decided to honor one of the most vibrant and enduring American scenes, namely that of New England. As the fireworks begin to sound, the vision begins to blur and the “USA! USA!” chants commence, I can’t think of any better way to celebrate Independence Day than sitting around listening to bands from Boston and the surrounding region. So that’s pretty much what I did.

It’s an area whose hardcore/punk rock anger grew up well, and you can still hear the deep-seated aggression in the riffs of Roadsaw and the ’70s-loving rockers of their ilk. There’s a lot of that kind of stuff in this playlist, I guess because that’s mostly what I think of when I think of the New England scene — straightforward, unpretentious heavy rock. But that’s by no means the beginning and the end of it.

What I discovered as I picked out acts to include was that there’s a vast array of styles and sounds that have come out of the Northeast over the last couple decades. Being south of it myself, the most I can say I’ve had is a tertiary experience — that is, I didn’t grow up in this scene — and though I by no means consider this audiObelisk Transmission a complete document of it, I think it’s made for a pretty good mix.

You get the ultra-hateful sludge of Grief, the organ-infused country rock of Antler, Phantom Glue‘s thrashing rhythms, the crushing despair of Warhorse and the avant weirdness of The Body. Save for Vermont, every state in New England is represented — Connecticut, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, and Maine — and as a Yankee fan, I’d like it to be known that the title “Such Sawks, Such Sounds” is meant with the utmost respect and reverence for the Boston Red Sox. My alternate name for it was “The Green Monstah,” but I liked this better.

Everything but The Body was culled from a direct physical source — i.e. my rips — and the total winds up at 33 tracks, 3:21:44 runtime. If you’ve been curious what Blackwolfgoat sounds like, I put the track “Fear of Stars” in there, which is one of my favorites from Dronolith, and there’s recent selections as well from the aforementioned Roadsaw, as well as Black Thai, Curse the Son and Olde Growth.

Listening back to it, I dig the overall flow and I hope you do too. To listen, click play above, and to get the file, click the header image, click here, or follow the link in the sidebar. Complete playlist is after the jump.

0:00:04-0:03:13 Scissorfight, “Cadaver Recovery Man” from American Cloven Hoof Blues (Eccentric Man, 2002)

0:03:13-0:06:49 Roadsaw, “So Low Down” from Roadsaw (Small Stone, 2011)

0:06:49-0:12:06 Cortez, “Stone the Bastards” from Thunder in a Forgotten Town (Buzzville, 2006)

0:12:06-0:19:36 Blue Aside, “Otis’ Sun” from The Orange Tree (Hydro-Phonic, 2010)

0:19:36-0:24:03 Eldemur Krimm, “Black Fog” from Dirigo (Yogsothoth, 2003)

0:24:03-0:39:15 Sea of Bones, “Chapter V” from The Harvest (Self-released, 2009)

0:39:15-0:45:06 Isis, “Collapse and Crush” from Celestial (Escape Artist, 2000)

0:45:06-0:49:30 Cable, “Ride the Jackass Backwards” from Skyhorse Jams (This Dark Reign, 2001)

0:49:30-0:53:09 Megasus, “Megasus” from Megasus (20 Buck Spin, 2009)

0:53:09-0:56:58 Earthlord, “He Who is of the Water” from Earthmission (Self-released, 2007)

0:56:58-1:03:44 Olde Growth, “The Grand Illusion” from Olde Growth (MeteorCity, 2011)

1:03:44-1:06:57 Milligram, “Let’s Kill” from This is Class War (Small Stone, 2003)

1:06:57-1:12:52 Planet Gemini, “SuperGod” from SuperGod DevilMan (Gemini, 2003)

1:12:52-1:19:10 Grief, “Straight Edge-Closed Mind” from Miserably Ever After (Theologian, 1996)

1:19:10-1:23:27 Ichabod, “Face Down Riverbed Blues” from Let the Bad Times Roll (Root Sucker, 2003)

1:23:27-1:31:03 Black Pyramid, “The Worm Ouroboros” from Black Pyramid (MeteorCity, 2009)

1:31:03-1:35:39 Conifer, “Breathe. Hold” from Crown Fire (Important, 2008)

1:35:39-1:41:23 Blackwolfgoat, “Fear of Stars” from Dronolith (The Maple Forum, 2011)

1:41:23-1:46:30 King of Salem, “The Prophet” from Prophecy (Self-released, 2009)

1:46:30-1:52:02 Crooked Hook, “Deep End” from The Captain Will be Your Guide (Safety Meeting, 2007)

1:52:02-1:57:45 Sun Gods in Exile, “Black Magic” from Black Light White Lines (Small Stone, 2009)

1:57:45-2:01:11 Lord Fowl, “Bird of Good Omen” from Endless Dynamite (Fake Four, 2008)

2:01:11-2:04:31 Antler, “Blood on the Moon” from Antler (Tortuga, 2004)

2:04:31-2:12:03 Black Thai, “Satan’s Toolshed” from Blood From on High (Megavox, 2010)

2:12:03-2:18:42 Bloodhorse, “In Horror” from Horizoner (Translation Loss, 2009)

2:18:42-2:26:12 Elder, “Ghost Head” from Elder (MeteorCity, 2009)

2:26:12-2:31:46 Curse the Son, “Hemicrania Continua” from Klonopain (Self-released, 2011)

2:31:46-2:36:54 Hackman, “I Don’t Need This Shit, I Played Budokan” from The New Normal (Small Stone, 2007)

2:36:54-2:41:28 Phantom Glue, “Black Tar” from Phantom Glue (Teenage Disco Bloodbath, 2010)

2:41:28-2:47:20 When the Deadbolt Breaks, “The Cleansing Light” from In the Ruins, No Light Shall Shine (Spare Change, 2006)

2:47:20-3:08:20 Ocean, “First Reign” from Here Where Nothing Grows (Important, 2005)

3:08:20-3:17:13 Warhorse, “Black Acid Prophecy” from As Heaven Turns to Ash (Southern Lord, 2001)

3:17:13-3:21:44 The Body, “A Curse” from All the Waters of the Earth Turn to Blood (At a Loss, 2010)

Click Here to Get audiObelisk Transmission 017

I had a good hour to do so, and Newcastle goes down like candy, so the cash and the beer were both going quick by the time Stone Titan started up. Fuzz Fest — a collection of local Connecticut acts put together by Ron Vanacore of Curse the Son (who played third) — didn’t actually feature all that much fuzz. With a name like that, you’d expect six or seven Fu Manchu clones on the bill, but instead, the lineup culled acts from different prongs of the doom umbrella, starting with Stone Titan‘s heavy sonic debt to the riffs of Jimmy Bower. They were so young I wondered if they’d have been allowed at the show if they weren’t playing it, but honest about where they came from; an Eyehategod cover went a long way in transitioning them in my mind from “derivative” to “charming.”

Either way, their collective heart was in the right place, and theirs was the start of a night of several impressive covers. The Connecticut scene, if nothing else, has good taste. King of Salem, who played second, covered “Swinging the Chain” from Black Sabbath‘s Never Say Die, and that sat well alongside their straightforward heavy rock. Guitarist/vocalist Simon Tuozzoli and drummer Mike Petrucci were joined by a bassist (who, if I’m not mistaken, had the night’s only five-string; one too many) and guitarist who looked imported directly from another band.

I was a fan of King of Salem‘s Prophecy way back when I reviewed it, so it was cool to hear some of that material live, and while it was abundantly clear that Tuozzoli and Petrucci were the core of the band, the other half, situated on the right side of the stage area, did well with their parts, the guitarist adding solos to Tuozzoli‘s riffs that were both fluid and accomplished. It was a strange set, but a good one, and an excellent transition point between Stone Titan and Vanacore‘s own outfit, who occupied the center position on the bill.

After hearing their Klonopain full-length, I suspected that the disc, while enough to give an overall impression of their sound (and a favorable one), didn’t do the band full justice, and their live show proved that assertion correct. Petrucci was pulling double-duty, drumming for Curse the Son as well as King of Salem, and he’d reportedly only practiced with Vanacore and bassist Cheech once, two days earlier, but you wouldn’t have known it watching the trio play. He adapted to the songs excellently, and Vanacore‘s tone, which came out of two green cabinets and a green head with “WEED” where “Green” might otherwise have been, was among the highlights of the night.

As the driving force behind the show, their crowd was the biggest. The way the P.A. speakers were set up, it made the stage area look small, but it was actually deep enough so that most of the equipment was backlined, and the high ceiling in the room made it so Curse the Son were able to pull off a loud, full sound, which they did, expressing a clear love for the riffy arts. Admirable enough that Vanacore got the show together in the first place, but doubly so that Curse the Son didn’t then headline or screw anyone into a shitty timeslot. It was a well-constructed evening and good to see everyone getting into the bands. Going to shows in New York, it’s easy to get lost sometimes in how much of a social obligation it is. For me at least, as an outsider up for the weekend, it was refreshing to have it be just about the music.

And just when I was most feeling that after Curse the Son‘s set, there came Lord Fowl. It’s not really doing them justice to call them the “find of the night,” because I’d heard three of the total five bands before, but they fucking destroyed, either way. A double-guitar/double-vocal four-piece from just south on I-91 in New Haven, they powered through a set that included the best cover of Thin Lizzy‘s “The Boys are Back in Town” that I’ve ever heard — and I’ve heard a few — and hands down the night’s highest rock quotient. Their set had that same feeling you get watching Roadsaw or one of those really killer Small Stone acts rip it up, where you just know this is how rock and roll should be done and the bullshit factor is nil.

They had a CD for sale, which I bought, and if there’d been others, I’d have gotten them too. The night had already been a winner, but Lord Fowl absolutely made it, and when they finished, I immediately commenced nerding out about how righteously good they were. I haven’t listened to the disc yet only for lack of time, but I’ll get there for sure, as I want to hear if they’ll be able to translate their live energy to an album. Here’s hoping.

Post-that, anything was going to be a comedown, but Sea of Bones closed out the night in front of a wall of amplifiers (the drums, also huge) and emitted the kind of volume that rendered earplugs all but useless. Seriously, I could feel them vibrating in my ears. The levels on their three mics — one for each member of the band — were off, but honestly, with that much noise coming from the cabs, I don’t think anything would have helped. You could’ve blown out the P.A. three times over and still not heard the screams of drummer Kevin, guitarist Tom or bassist Gary (all first names only). Easy to blame the sound guy for that, but even he could only do so much to stem their massive tonality.

My last beer was gone by the time they started playing, and it had been my intention to split a couple songs in, but Sea of Bones held my attention and feet in place. If you’ve never heard them, their ultra-doom borders on post-metal at times, but is mostly angrier and less intellectually pretentious than much of that genre. If they toured, you wouldn’t need my recommendation to check them out, because they’d already be huger even than Tom‘s pedal board. What they had in common with the rest of the acts in the Fuzz Fest lineup, though was a readily evident passion for what they were doing.

And if you’re going to book a show of local acts and try and foster a developing scene, that’s how you do it: by loving what you do and showing that to others. Kudos to Vanacore on picking the lineup he did (the shout-out in my direction from the stage was unnecessary, but also appreciated), since they may have all come from different ends of the genre, but there was an undercurrent that bound them all the same. When I left, it was too late for me to call my mother as per the advice of the men’s room wall, but I was comfortable anyway in knowing my time had been well spent.

More pics after the jump.

Stone Titan

King of Salem

Curse the Son

Lord Fowl

Sea of Bones

Tuozzoli, who also helmed the recording, handles bass and guitar on Virgin Blood (one assumes, since there’s no one else listed on bass and he’s credited with “guitars”) and works in more classic metal influence that one finds in even the heavier moments of King of Salem, marking a distinct shift in approach for Vestal Claret. Together with drummer Michael Petrucci, he’s able to arrange complex structures around riffs that don’t sound redundant even when they repeat and choruses that are memorable without being hooky or overstated. That’s especially true on opener “Hex of Harm,” where Swanson incites the devil to smite his enemies with a signature New England-type Christian vision of witchery. The chorus here is particularly strong both musically and lyrically, and with the start-stop riff from Tuozzoli that follows and the subtle plod Petrucci adds to the drumming, it’s easy to get excited about the eventual full-length to come from the band. At about 4:20, the guitars break into the line that will serve as the basis for most of the song’s second half, eventually developing into a new structure of verse. It’s not an easy transition to make, but all three members of Vestal Claret pull it off, finishing heavy.

Side B of the vinyl gives way to “Allowance of Sin,” another solid slab of doom reaching toward the seven-minute mark and excellent complement for “Hex of Harm.” I kept hearing the line “Warm cold waters that baptize me” as “Warm koalas that baptize me,” but it’s pretty clearly printed in the sleeve of the 7”, so much as I wish that was the line, it’s definitely not. Nonetheless, the added stomp in the music of “Allowance of Sin” and its kind of arrogant swagger make up for any lack of Aussie fauna, and Swanson fits easily on top of the central riff, which should surprise no one at this point given his past work in Vestal Claret and elsewhere. Virgin Blood might not be a reinvention of the style, but if it’s where Swanson finally comes to rest band-wise, Tuozzoli’s guitar and songwriting prowess provides a weighty counterpoint. With reports of a double-album in the works – it would be their full-length debut – Vestal Claret have never seemed more potent or more relevant than they do with Virgin Blood, and if this is indeed a new launch point for their development as a band, I look forward to finding out where they’re headed next. Trad doom heads and vinyl hounds will want to take note.

Vestal Claret on Facebook

As I’ve been out of the country three Record Store Days in a row, I thought I’d do a little pre-shopping this year and while I was in Connecticut for the weekend earlier this month, I swung by my favorite shop in the state, Redscroll Records in Wallingford. It’s always good to know you’re on friendly ground, and when I walked in, they were playing Black Pyramid‘s self-titled album, so I immediately felt at home. Time before last, if you’ll recall, it was Sleep‘s Dopesmoker.

It doesn’t quite match the batch of discs I pulled in last time I was there in the fall, but I still managed to find some good stuff. I grabbed yet another Monster Magnet promo CD — it’s amazing how many there are floating around — called Five Reasons to Testify that has the awful God Says No shot of them with Dave Wyndorf‘s metal codpiece on the front (I’m not even going to show it, as well as the first Firebird record, the first Quest for Fire and the 1999 Bong Load Custom Records issue of Fireball Ministry‘s Où est la Rock? Not a bad haul, all told.

The Firebird I’d picked up at the band’s merch table at Roadburn 2009, but that was the European reissue and this was the original on The Music Cartel, so I couldn’t resist. When I reviewed the second Quest for Fire album, Lights from Paradise, I said that I’d have to go back and buy the first, and it was good to do that, although I think I prefer the second anyway. I couldn’t remember if I owned the Fireball Ministry or not, but decided to take the chance anyway and it paid off. The record kind of rules. Very Fu Manchu, except maybe for the Obsessed-esque “Death Dealer,” which actually features Guy Pinhas on bass, but enjoyable throughout. Probably the most stoner rock of all their albums, which suits me just fine.

There’s a hole punched in the UPC of the Fireball Ministry, which means it was probably someone’s promo, and I always think that’s interesting, and wonder who got the record initially, what they did or didn’t do with it and how they came to sell it. Every time I get emailed another link to download a new release, I get that “born too late” feeling. I’ve gotten plenty in my day, don’t get me wrong, but when I think of the shit that could have come in my mail (all those Monster Magnet promos, for one) and all the silver-backed bootleg CDs I could have bought in the pre-CDR era, I get a little sad. I guess we make the most with what we’ve got. It’s fun hunting this stuff down, anyway.

Most likely I’ll be back at Redscroll before too long, but just figured I’d share anyway, since it’s a quality store and deserves to have the word spread about it as much as possible. Check them out here if you haven’t yet, or find them on that Facebook the kids love so much.

New Haven

It’s a formidable lineup joining Curse the Son on the CT Fuzzfest bill (you can see it below; all that’s missing is When the Deadbolt Breaks to bring in some ultra-doomed atmosphere), and I wanted to get a sense from Vanacore about what his hopes were for Curse the Son and the scene as a whole. Klonopain draws influence from a host of thick-riff purveyors, and aside from an understanding of the timeline between moving from Sufferghost to this project, I was hoping to find out what was driving Vanacore stylistically and in terms of keeping Curse the Son its own entity musically.

The guitarist was happy to cooperate, and I’m proud to say that of all the email interviews ever conducted for this site (and that’s plenty), this is the first one to have ever been done via private messages back and forth on the forum. I don’t know how you feel about that, but I think it’s awesome.

So thanks to Vanacore for taking part and please enjoy the following Six Dumb Questions:

1. After Sufferghost ended, how did you decide to start over again with Curse the Son? Are you still in touch with Tony? What’s his current condition?

It was not a decision that came easy. When Sufferghost ended, I was so devastated that I just stopped playing music altogether. You see Tony and I have a really cool relationship. There is this unbelievable chemistry between us. There were never any disagreements…we genuinely love and respect each other’s riffs, lyrics and ideas. I’ve never been in a situation like that where two guys are literally in the same head space all the time… It was incredible!

But when it ended so suddenly, it was a shock to the system. I couldn’t even go into the band room anymore, it was to depressing knowing it was over. I think it was about six months later, Tony and I were talking and he told me that I needed to play again. That is when I began writing material for Curse the Son.

As far as my relationship with Tony now, we talk all the time. He moved back to his hometown of Hayward, California, a couple years back. After a lot of hard work, he is back playing guitar again! His new band is called Tuco Ramirez and they rule. Good old ‘70s style hard rock. It makes me so happy to know he is playing again, I miss him dearly and hope that one day he returns to the East Coast so we can pick up where we left off.

2. What are some of the differences stylistically between Curse the Son and Sufferghost? Is there anything specific you wanted to do differently in this new band?

Stylistically, I view Curse the Son as a flip of the Sufferghost style. With Sufferghost it was classic stoner with doom accents. The Curse the Son sound is much doomier without losing the sense of melody and cohesion Sufferghost had.

Tony is a much better guitar player than I could ever hope to be. The dude has the chops. I am a much more rhythm based guitar player. So I play to my strengths… the riffs and the groove.

3. Has your songwriting process changed at all with the switch? How do you come up with riffs, and how do the songs come together from there?

The very first time me and Tony jammed I recorded it. It was such a good jam that we ended up with all the riffs for three out of the four songs on our Leave the Church EP! Most of our tunes came from jamming.

The process changed dramatically as Curse the Son began. It was me and my 8-track. Get stoned and write riffs for hours. Then hash out the quality ideas and start putting the song together. It was an abstract process but I’m pretty fortunate that I have the ability to hear a “finished song” way before it’s actually finished.

Initially there was no band, it was just my vision. I had no idea what I was going to do with the music. I just wanted to create something that was crushingly heavy and would honor my friend.

4. Tell me about recording the songs for the full-length. How do the album versions of the tracks that were originally on the EP compare to the originals?

The basic tracks for our CD Klonopain were recorded live. Just the three of us in the same room vibing off each other. It was a very cool, stress free experience. We recorded it at Underground Sound here in Connecticut. The owner Chris DelVecchio, is a good friend of mine and he gave me free rein over the place. We started recording on a nice sunny day in mid-May 2010, and didn’t wrap it up until December! I took my time with it because I could. Klonopain is the first record I’ve ever been a part of where I am 100 percent happy with everything about it.

As far as the Globus Hystericus EP goes, you have to remember that I recorded all the instruments myself. The intention was to have a product that I could use to promote the Curse the Son name and sound. Soon after its release I started to look for likeminded musicians to play with.

It was Cheech (bass) and Rich (drums)’s idea to rerecord those four songs. I was hesitant at first, but I’m really glad we did it because the new versions just bury those EP tracks, no question.

5. I know about the Redscroll Records store and Cherry St. Station in Wallingford and a couple other places around, but is there a Connecticut scene at this point? Are there other bands you especially enjoy playing with, or is everyone up in Massachusetts?

There is actually something starting to happen again in the New Haven scene. Mostly this is due to a couple friends of mine, Opus (Dead by Wednesday) and Eric Morton (Big E Promotions) who have been booking metal nights at places like Cherry St. Station in Wallingford and Bix’s Cafe in Branford. Toad’s Place has turned a blind eye towards metal for the most part, which sucks. The CT scene is weird, it comes and goes every 5-10 years or so.

Most of the bands we play with are very different from us, but we seem to fit in on any bill and we usually stand out which is always cool. I didn’t think there were any other stoner/doomy type bands around here but I was wrong!! They are just spread out all over the place and have never unified. I am hoping to give that a boost with CT Fuzzfest 2011 which takes place at Cherry St. Station on June 4. As far as I know there has never been any type of show featuring all bands like us here. I hope it gives the whole genre a kickstart around here. It’s time for Connecticut to get on board!

The lineup for the gig is:
Sea of Bones
Lord Fowl
Curse the Son
King of Salem
Stone Titan

6. What’s next for you guys? Any plans for shows around or outside of Connecticut or more recording before the end of the year?

The next step is to begin writing for the next release. I have a bunch of riffs ready to go, and look forward to jammin’ with the fellas.

We would love to play out of state, if we can find the right gigs, right bands and the right venues. Touring is probably not a reality as of now, but if the right opportunity came, hell yeah!

I hope to get the band back in the studio by late fall and have the next CD out in early 2012.

Thanks to your readers who have responded with such excitement and purchased the CD. To purchase Klonopain, it is $5 shipped (US) $10 (UK). Core9@netscape.net is our contact email and Paypal address.

Curse the Son on ReverbNation

Curse the Son on Facebook

Those aren’t easy shoes to fill, but Taylor does well with it, and as Nightbitch moves forward in following up their Sex and Magic EP (released last year on limited cassette and vinyl), it should be interesting to hear what he comes up with for melodies to complement Adams‘ doomly riffage and the formidable low end of bassist Mark Eles.

Here’s “Disrober/Sex and Magic,” filmed live somewhere in Connecticut: