But they’re a new band putting out their own material – ResinHit Records is a project of Kaleth’s to help promote fellow Hoosier artists – so it’s hard to hold sonic issues against them even if they do affect the listen. Earth on My Nerves still gives a solid impression and idea of what The Hedons are about, offering a glimpse of their appreciation for punk’s formative elements as filtered through grunge and desert rock’s budding tonal burl. Bassist Robert Ryan Strawsma, who also joins Kaleth on vocals, provides much of the ground for the band’s genre blend, taking the warmth of stonerly bass and the pacing of punk and making it organic and clear. The band’s overarching lack of pretense in what they do makes Earth on My Nerves a quick listen, but from “Big Bang”’s motoring groove and dual vocals, it’s clear right away that The Hedons have potential working in their favor, and among the influences they draw from punk seems to be the notion of not taking themselves too seriously, from which “Intergalactic Prism” – if there’s such a thing as space punk, this is it – greatly benefits. “Atomic Blue” continues the momentum “Big Bang” established as the opener, keeping an awareness of genre but making the meld seem natural anyway, which actually gives the EP something of a European feel, and though “Intergalactic Prism” seems to have a riff in common with Tool’s “Part of Me,” The Hedons are working in a completely different vein, as the second half of the track shows with a swirling guitar break that seems to meander to the point of oblivion before drawing back in for a final chorus.

“Psychocillibin” seems to affirm a predilection toward no-bullshit riffs, and the aforementioned “Swimming the Witch” moves stylistically into genuine psychedelic doom with a slower overall pace and more relaxed feel. Taking its name from the practice of immersing women suspected of witchcraft into bodies of water to see if they float or sink – floating being confirmation of their witchery and tied to a supposed rejection of the Christian god’s baptismal rite – it’s the longest cut on Earth on My Nerves and, as The Hedons are reportedly moving away from some of their punkish modus on their upcoming debut full-length, perhaps the most portentous of what’s to come. If that’s the case, their development seems to be headed in a direction that fits them well, and even as “Helluva Ride” closes out the EP, Kaleth’s solo maintains some of the prior track’s heavy rock vibe, however punk the catchiness of the song might otherwise be. If The Hedons can manage to maintain that catchiness as they begin their shift away from some of their punk-based leanings, then wherever they go from Earth on My Nerves, it will be worth following. Most of what they’re doing on these six cuts will probably ring familiar to those who either follow heavy rock or grew up idolizing pre-commercial punk, but the trio have simplicity working in their favor when they want it to and are able to weave their way between different styles without sounding awkward or lacking flow. Earth on My Nerves bodes well.

The Hedons on Thee Facebooks

ResinHit Records

That’s not to say they’ll never get there if they want to, just that they’re not there now. However, The Heavy (Please Tune In…) does open in such a way that puts the focus immediately on atmosphere – the two-minute “Please Tune In…” ambient piece introduces the subtlety that will typify most of The Heavy Co.’s musical personality. Spacious, soft guitar notes ring out while Kaleth offers low-mixed (rightly for what they’re doing) fills behind. Gerber intros “The Heavy” himself with Strawsma’s warm accenting notes behind, and Cutsinger’s organ gives flavor to the song, which has a slightly Southern bent, mostly in the vocals. There’s a Doors-feel to Cutsinger’s playing, but it’s more “Riders on the Storm” than the theatrical “Light My Fire.” Again, “The Heavy” lives up to its name for the atmosphere it conveys, and it’s really more about the chill than the thunderous bombast. The vaguely Skynyrd-esque “Black Tuesday” taps into Hoosier rural tones without sounding foolish, coming off like a more countrified Against Nature, particularly as regards Gerber’s guitar tone and vocals. It’s the second catchiest chorus on The Heavy (Please Tune In…) to the closing “Caged Bird,” and Cutsinger once again underscores on organ later on. There’s a deceptive amount happening between Cutsinger, Strawsma’s excellent runs and the layers of Gerber’s guitar, but the six-and-a-half-minute “Wormwood” clears the air with a simple, no-nonsense instrumental groove.

I’m a fan of well-recorded, warm-sounding bass, and in that regard, the funk Strawsma lays down on “Wormwood” makes the EP. Kaleth keeps mostly to his ride and hi-hat – he’s never showy throughout – and Gerber plays catchy high notes off of Strawsma’s righteously thick tone. There’s a slowdown just before four minutes in that leads to an excellent noise-filled guitar solo and then, eventually, to the song’s unfolding and fadeout. That fadeout is an awkward transition into the kind of doobinterlude of “Monsignor Charlie Bird” – a nod to tenor saxophone master Charlie Parker, presumably, that may or may not continue into the closer “Caged Bird” – since it goes to silence before the latter picks up with Gerber’s soft lines. I almost wanted that fadeout to continue while the next track started over it, to have them flow directly into each other like that. In any case, “Monsignor Charlie Bird” is Gerber alone on guitar, smartly putting something between the tracks to break up the sound and have “Caged Bird” stand out even more on the tracklist than it otherwise would through its subtle (there’s that word again) tonal and mood-driven references to Masters of Reality and Stone Axe. The song is The Heavy Co.’s most mature-sounding and accomplished, with Epple’s added percussion in the midsection and a build that pays off in the final chorus enough to account for the entirety of the EP.

A reprisal of the start-stop riff on which much of the song is based caps “Caged Bird” following that last Maya Angelou-referencing chorus and ends The Heavy (Please Tune In…) with an appropriate amount of ceremony given what’s come before, and that’s roughly none. They’re not overly simple or stripped down, but there is a “basic elements” feel to what The Heavy Co. does that, since they do it well, adds to the appeal of their songs. The breadth they show here bodes well for their impending 2012 Midwest Electric full-length – reportedly to be released through their own DPR Records – which will hopefully see them develop the style they’re beginning to establish here. Until then, The Heavy Co. have presented a solid first collection of tracks that are worth checking out for anyone who believes that there’s more to the art of “heavy” than distortion and posturing. Call it “honesty rock.”

The Heavy Co. on Thee Facebooks

The Heavy Co. at Bandcamp

The above clip of trad doomers Apostle of Solitude playing the ultra-melancholy “December Drives Me to Tears” from their 2010 album Last Sunrise was filmed by Steve Janiak of fellow Indianapolis rockers Devil to Pay and mixed with audio captured by Michael Lindenauer, a noted taper who also happens to manage Iron Man. Pretty good draw for Apostle of Solitude there, and like they were at SHoD (where both Lindenauer and Janiak also put in an appearance; the latter on guitar), they’re spot on in their performance of the song.

It’s not exactly doom season yet around here — I tend to focus more on this kind of stuff when it’s cold out, and I’ve got the air conditioning on full blast as I type this — but it’s been awfully riff-rocky around here lately, and I thought some good doom might mix things up. Wouldn’t you know my head went right to Apostle of Solitude when I thought of the words “good doom.” Go figure.

Next week I’ll be posting my interview with John Garcia of Kyuss (Lives!), so look out for that. We’ll have another installment of the Orange Goblin studio update series, and the dudes in Wizard’s Beard also turned in their Six Dumb Questions emailer, so hopefully that will be up as well. Also, if all goes according to plan, reviews of Lord, Dixie Witch and others. Weedeater is playing in Brooklyn tomorrow night if you’re around. I’ve got my niece tomorrow, so I won’t be at the show, but if you go, hope it’s a blast. I think Oxbow is playing too. Heavy.

Speaking of heavy shows in Brooklyn, don’t forget that Sept. 20, The Obelisk and BrooklynVegan are teaming up to bring you a night Sept. 20 at Union Pool with three of Small Stone Records‘ finest acts: Suplecs, The Brought Low and Lo-Pan. More info on that here and here. I’ve been thinking of it as an unofficial advance party for New Yorkers ahead of the Small Stone showcase in Philly that weekend.

Wherever you end up tomorrow or beyond, I hope you have a great and safe weekend. I have some news I need to catch up on putting on the forum, so I’ll see you there and back here Monday.

They class it up with some saxophone, but those guitars are all classic rock dirt, and the show looks like a party I’d want to be at, so I figured sharing the clip was the way to go. As of now, Goliathon is in the “warrants further investigation” pile, since this has pretty much been my only exposure to them, but guitarist Derek Kendall, who sent me the link to check out the clip, has threatened that a new EP is on the horizon. I’d expect their name will show up in bold in all the usual haunts once that hits, surrounded by much hyperbole.

Here’s why:

The Gates of Slumber

Balance that with a depth of songwriting that made cuts like “To the Rack with Them” and “The Scourge ov Drvnkenness” as effective on a structural level as they were in terms of ambience, and flat-out, The Wretch just ruled. Simon, Paradis and bassist Jason McCash were able to keep the barbaric feel of their prior to albums while also inflicting their melancholy on listeners, and of all the doom I’ve heard so far into 2011, none of it has been quite as doomed as The Gates of Slumber. It’s not just about being loud, or just being heavy, but it’s the downtrodden spirit driving the songs.

That feeling can’t be faked, can’t be a put-on, can’t be bullshit. You’re either in it or you’re not, and The Gates of Slumber pulled it off with a sincerity and honesty that was matched by the fact that the material also rocked. The Wretch has plenty of time to prove its merits over extended listens in 2011, but more than that, I expect its timeless doom will satisfy for years to come. If you haven’t heard it yet, it’s not too late.

As such, I knew that in asking Simon to compile a list of his five favorite Vitus tunes, he’d come back with some interesting choices, and sure enough, I wasn’t disappointed. Here are his picks, complete with accompanying audio:

5. “The Troll”

“I’ve been down so long, I cannot see, anyway out of me…” What more needs to be said, really? The grizzled riffing and the tale of a depressive man locked in a feedback loop. The second verse explains why the loop exists; the third brings it home: “Bats and worms are my friends; they’ll stick with me till the end… down here I am my own man…” and a nihilistic Chandler tremolo solo. Wino‘s vocal performance on this song is one of his best. Basically a blues jam which Vitus did a lot, only it’s way fucked up. I identify with the lyrics so god damned much sometimes. It pains me.

4. “Shadow of a Skeleton”

Okay, so a lot of “fans” have a real problem with the C.O.D. record. Well, I have a problem with those fans. Attention posers: not one weak track on this record. In fact, in many ways this record is, in my eyes, a return to the feeling and production values of the early days, only with the addition of some guitar harmonies. And oh yeah, one of the best singers in the history of metal is wailing all over this record. This song has a bulldozer riff that just boggles the mind and makes me want to ruin my neck; Armando‘s drumming is fucking brutal; classic lyrics about a fucking reanimated skeleton coming after your ass…. what more do you want?!

3. “The End of the End”

I am totally obsessed with this riff. The best song Wino ever sang on in my opinion, and the best one that Vitus did with him! I love the pitch shifted vocals and the syncopated drumming. The environmentally aware/anti-nuclear power/war lyrics paint a potent and timeless picture that is just awesome. I love that it has no chorus as well, only the beak down that leads to the solo. Vitus had this weird habit of saving off their most potent songs for EPs… which was a dirty trick, I think! But I love it. Thirsty and Miserable is a must have just because of this song, and Walking Dead speaks for itself.

2. “Darkness”

There is something about this open wah guitar tone that makes me want to throw things at the wall. The circular riff and Reager‘s demon wail. So goddamn good. And then the bass and drum break with Mark Adams taking it for a walk. The Iron Maiden influence is so clear here! It’s just a potent and short burst of energy. I do have to say that The first three releases by Saint Vitus had some real unique magic to them that just can not be equaled by anyone.

1. “The Psychopath”

Essentially, what we have here is a fairly standard blues formula, but goddamn if it isn’t totally taken in the most obscure and odd direction. Chandler is abusing his wah pedal the whole fucking time. Reager’s, owning it… again. How people can not like his voice is so strange to me, but whatever. A song about the M.K. Ultra experiments gone awry. But the real treat here is the main solo break. There are a few leads that really stick out for me, and this is my favorite. Four minutes into the song it starts, nice and melodic… and Chandler is not given credit for that! If Kurt Cobain is a genius then Dave Chandler needs a thousand times that credit. At 5:40, the airplane flanged shred turns into these sick and emotive bends that always give me the chills. It’s a shame that “metal” people in 1984 were totally too weak to have possibly gotten this band. But then things worked out pretty fucking well…. You can spend your life thinking about thing things that could have been. Fact is there were a thousand limp thrash bands and horrid butt “metal” bands out there, but only one Saint Vitus. And 31 years later nobody but nobody cares about Seduce or Viking or whatever… not even the dudes who were in the fucking bands. Saint Vitus ruled them then and rules them now.

Doubtless the addition of Paradis as replacement for “Iron” Bob Fouts (now of Apostle of Solitude) is part of what has allowed The Gates of Slumber to make a stylistic turn from the barbaric metal of their last two breakthrough offerings, Hymns of Blood and Thunder (2009) and Conqueror (2008), and Simon himself agrees in his liner notes. Paradis handles the slow material excellently, accenting the riffs and playing off McCash’s bass with both power and fluidity, and given his apparently propensity for touring, I’d be hard pressed to call him anything less than a perfect fit for what The Gates of Slumber are doing on The Wretch. As someone who had to see the band live before really understanding the appeal of their albums, it was always the doom side of their sound I enjoyed the most (big surprise), and so the eight songs here, even the shorter, faster cuts like “To the Rack with Them” and “Coven of Cain,” are a welcome shift toward the downtempo, beyond the melancholic and into the truly depressive.

For Simon and McCash, that’s the aforementioned return to form, but it’s worth noting that although The Wretch may tread ground The Gates of Slumber have covered before (as have many others), the album is hardly more redundant than is called for. Simon pulls out his best Wino impression on the “I Bleed Black”-esque opener “Bastards Born,” but rather than think of it is a ripoff or something being passed off as original, it’s so obvious an homage and so clearly heartfelt in its tribute that I’m completely along for the ride from the start. And for what it’s worth, The Wretch sounds fantastic. The album was produced by Jaime Gomez Arellano at Orgone Studio in London, and there’s just the right balance of separation between the instruments and cohesion of the album as a whole. McCash’s bass tone is a constant high point – again, something that factors in right away on “Bastards Born” – and Simon’s vocals are balanced well in the mix, clearly displaying his growth as a singer, but not at the cost of pulling attention away from the Iommian riffage on “The Scourge ov Drunkenness.”

Whatever speed the song, The Wretch maintains its heft, and clocking in at a well-rounded 55:55 (who’s counting?), it can be a lot to take in a single sitting. Seriously. Even if you go in for traditional doom and gloom, there’s a lot about The Gates of Slumber’s material here that’s just hard to take. There isn’t so much a monstrous plod to the grooving progressions as there is a hopeless skulk. It comes in the second half of “The Scourge ov Drunkenness” (does it ever) after the opener and is contrasted by the more rocking “To the Rack with Them,” but it’s never completely gone from the atmosphere of the album. Paradis seems to keep that feel to his playing despite any tempo changes, and where some drummers might inject needless fills into transitional riffs and start-stops, he sits back and allows Simon and McCash’s contributions the necessary breathing room. “To the Rack with Them” is all the more effective owing to this. The song is neither showy nor silly, and it seems to be coming to a halt in each alternating riff cycle of its verse, so that even with the quicker tempo, it maintains its downer sensibility.

Simon’s solo in “To the Rack with Them” is among the best on The Wretch, but “Day of Farewell” might be the album’s highest achievement of all. Working at a mostly middle pace, the song is an agonizing seven-plus minutes of sliced-open spiritual emptiness, beginning with the lines, “I grow tired of this world/I know all there is to know,” and only getting more wretched (appropriately enough) from there. Aside from being Simon’s vocal highlight, McCash’s bass again helps push it over the edge, and Paradis puts emphasis on his crash to exact a kind of chaos in the build that only enhances the sonic turbulence. It’s a doomer’s doom, for sure, and ends with massive guitar/bass chugging that in itself is enough to make me watch to catch The Gates of Slumber live on this album cycle. As the culmination of The Wretch’s first four tracks, it’s also the most successful.

“Castle of the Devil” continues the doomed mood with a lumbering misery set to meter by Paradis’ rumbling bass drum and accented with lead flourishes over a quiet, minimalist verse, soon contrasted with the loud, desperate chorus, more memorable than catchy if only for its snail’s pace and the potential implication of something upbeat or lighthearted that comes with the latter word. Simon finds room to lead a jam with a bluesy solo while McCash rides out an early Sabbath groove with Paradis beneath. The song picks up again to close with its chorus, setting up the faster, “Neon Knights”-referencing “Coven of Cain,” which in the context of what follows is like the last look at light before it dies forever. In a way, the song shows a certain maturity on the part of The Gates of Slumber as a unit, because right where they needed a fast song most, they put one. To have gone right from “Castle of the Devil” to the title-track might have sent The Wretch over the edge into an inaccessible abyss, but with “Coven of Cain,” it becomes clear that audience is still a consideration no matter how far into the depths the trio is plunging. They’re still songwriters, still making an album. It’s not just about self-indulgence.

That’s not to say self-indulgence doesn’t play a role on The Wretch, as it should on any record worth a damn, but The Gates of Slumber do more than just get themselves off in these songs. Even as “The Wretch” decays into a long section of guitar noise, McCash keeps it grounded with a pulsating bass note, reminding listeners that yes, indeed, there’s a song happening here somewhere. “The Wretch” is an appropriate cut to name the album for, echoing the Saint Vitus mentality of the opener and “Day of Farewell” and making 12:44 closer “Iron and Fire” seem active by comparison. The two companion songs echo much of the sensibility of The Wretch, with the more personally-themed lyrics penned by Simon and the epic poetry coming from McCash, who paraphrases the Roman emperor Nero’s exclamation as he watched his own grave being dug out on “Iron and Fire” with the lines, “What an artist is dying in me/What the world loses with me/What is this galloping towards me,” playing off one what’s surely the apex of the track and maybe of the album as a whole, before once more riding out a suitably lamenting groove.

Formidable in its lyrical and musical aesthetic, consistent even through its changes and built on a foundation of memorable songwriting, I see no reason why The Wretch shouldn’t be remembered as one of 2011’s strongest albums at the end of the year and well beyond. The Gates of Slumber – if this indeed is some kind of return – have made it a triumphant one. Like the best of traditional doom, The Wretch has a presence all its own, and is able to affect the mood of the listener, more or less dragging you down with it as it goes. The back of the CD jewel case (and one assumes the vinyl as well) boasts the acronym “C.O.T.D.” in reference to “Circle of True Doom,” and I imagine the congregation should be much pleased, as should the band itself.

The Gates of Slumber on Facebook

Rise Above Records

Rest assured that As Fast as My Home Town is heavy as balls, but there’s more to Bulletwolf’s attack than just riffs, and when they play fast, they really play fast. Guitarists “Chris” and TJ rip through the 1:12 of “Cabernet Jay” with blinding dexterity, echoing the start of the album but pushing themselves further, playing harder. But still, they’re not entirely the focus. Worm’s bass and the drums of Don E. are consistently in lockstep with the guitars, the latter especially serving to affect many of the changes in the songs. On the Neanderthal-inspired “Quest for Fire,” Bulletwolf remind of Beaten Back to Pure or the heavier end of dirt rock more than some of their punkish turns, but they’re no less believable on the motoring “Right on (Ride on),” which along with “Honey Bucket” and “Quest for Fire” is in the minority of songs on As Fast as My Home Town that don’t explicitly mention alcohol one way or another. Call it a singularity of focus, and any way you want to take it, go ahead. It comes in cans and bottles, draft if you’re lucky.

One of the major appeals of Bulletwolf is the lyrics, and if you haven’t picked up on the fact from the titles alone, I’ll say that definitely applies to the material here. “In Your Face” is less a scathing indictment of Indiana’s liquor laws as it is a kind of kneejerk reaction, the words of the song basically saying “I’m gonna get drunk in your face on Sunday because you don’t like it.” Likewise, “Truck Stop Awesome,” with its descriptions of all-over-print t-shirts of wolves howling at the moon, dreamcatcher vests and two-day-old ham and swiss sandwiches, has no shortage of charm with Worm’s throaty delivery. Even “Cabernet Jay,” which is probably more of an inside joke than even the song knows, sounds like fun. As much as they’re worth seeking out (and in the digipak form of the album, it doesn’t require much work to do so since a liner is included), the lyrics are by no means all that Bulletwolf have going for them on As Fast as My Home Town. “6” covers the by-now familiar beer-breathed territory of any number of other Bulletwolf songs, but it’s the quiet break into the guitars and the slow, massive riffs that ensue that make the track a highlight. “Quest for Fire” follows a similar structure, but more toward the middle of the song than the end, and the riff of “6” feels even bigger leading almost directly into “Honey Bucket.”

These shifts and subtle changes show that while Bulletwolf are still all about kicking your ass, taking your beer and throwing it up all over your fancy new shoes, they’ve got a little musical diversity behind them as well. More than just tempo tweaks, it’s the changes in overall vibe that make As Fast as My Home Town work, but really, if you want to sit and analyze and timestamp every turn or new riff that comes up in the songs, you’re probably missing the point. Bulletwolf is not “thinking man’s metal.” That’s not to say it’s dumb either musically or lyrically, but all that pretentious claptrap, post-metal posturing and neo-doom occultism has nothing to do with the mischief contained on As Fast as My Home Town. Instead, we get smart-ass lyrics about boozing and unabashed, unashamed good times. Not that the other doesn’t have its place, but if there’s a party at one house and a party at the other, I’m showing up at Bulletwolf’s every time. And I’m bringing liquor, because I hear they like that kind of thing.

Bulletwolf on Facebook

Bulletwolf on MySpace

They’ll be playing a CD release show in Indianapolis this Friday, Feb. 11. More info on that and how to buy As Fast as My Home Town for $8 is available via their Facebook. Spend another two bucks and you get a Bulletwolf pint glass. That sounds like a deal to me. Here’s the album:

The PR wire had plenty to say on the subject:

The Gates of Slumber will enter England’s Orgone Studios with producer Jaime Gomez Arellano (Ghost, Angel Witch) later this month to lay down tracks for their forthcoming new album. The follow up to the Indianapolis trio’s critically acclaimed LP Hymns of Blood and Thunder will see a Spring 2011 release via Rise Above Records.

The Gates of Slumber recently announced the addition of new drummer, “Cool Clyde” Paradis into their ranks. A New Orleans native and Hurricane Katrina survivor, Paradis joins The Gates of Slumber hot off stints in Sourvein, Substance Abuse and the New Orleans blues act T-bone and The Rhythm Makers.

“The new music is taking on a more troglodyte doom metal feel,” The Gates of Slumber frontman/guitarist Karl Simon. “With Clyde now in the band, the feel of things was bound to change; he’s not only a different drummer, but from a totally different school of thought with regards to the drums. It’s no secret that Saint Vitus‘ shuddering doom crawl was the root that inspired this band and we’d both felt that over three albums we’d taken the raw epic feel as far as we could. Now, it’s time to get back to basics, shed some of the bulk and get ugly again. No warriors this time, no acoustic guitars, no keyboards, no lofty Nietzschean ideals. Just black bile and a bit of the old “White Magic/Black Magic.”

The Gates of Slumber are currently in the midst of a European tour as hand-picked support for legendary doom rockers, Cathedral. The trek will run through 11/20 in Paris, France. Additionally, the band have been confirmed as one of the featured acts for the 2011 Roadburn Festival, set to take place April 14-16 in Tilburg, Netherlands.

The Gates of Slumber tour dates:
11/11 Pratteln, Switzerland Z7
11/12 München, Germany Backstage
11/13 Pinarella di Cervia, Italy Rock Planet
11/14 Rome, Italy Init Club
11/17 Madrid, Spain Heinekin
11/18 Barcelona, Spain Razzmatazz 2
11/19 Belfort, France La Pouderie
11/20 Paris, France La Nouveau Casino