The carton from which Lo-Pan frontman Jeff Martin is drinking in the candid picture above reads “Boxed Water is Better.” There’s a life lesson in there somewhere, but mark my words, I have no clue what it might be.

After bolting from a school obligation in Newark and stopping only to grab sushi takeout on my way to Brooklyn for the BrooklynVegan/The Obelisk-presented gig at Union Pool with The Brought Low, Lo-Pan and Suplecs. I was excited to see the bands and glad it had stopped raining from earlier in the day, but more than either of those, I was just in a hurry to get there.

Being involved in booking and promoting shows is nerve-wracking work, and to those who do it on a regular basis — and that includes Fred from BrooklynVegan, who invited me to be a part of the show out of the blue and the kindness of his heart — much respect. I can’t imagine being responsible for making people show up somewhere, trying to draw a crowd. I have a hard enough time getting my own ass off the couch, let alone anyone else’s.

That said, if e’er a rock bill in Brooklyn was going to do it, it was this one. With the two-day Small Stone Records showcase in Philadelphia this weekend featuring all three of these bands (and many others), I was thinking of the show as an unofficial warm-up, a kind of unofficial mini-showcase — but really, however you phrase it, it was a killer night. The Brought Low went on at 9:30, and if you looked back from there, you wasted your time.

I don’t know how many times I’ve said it at this point, but every time I see them affirms my opinion that The Brought Low are the best rock band in New York. They played a set that felt short, but pulled probably the night’s biggest crowd. The two faster cuts from their recent Coextinction Recordings EP, “Army of Soldiers” and “Black River” — on which bassist Bob Russell took lead vocals from guitarist Ben Smith — sounded great, and the material from last year’s Third Record was no less thrilling than when I heard it the last time I saw them in December. Nick Heller‘s drumming behind Smith‘s come-a-creepin’ guitar line on “My Favorite Waste of Time” gave me a newly-revitalized appreciation for that song.

That was about as subdued as they got. The rest of their time was devoted to energetic, upbeat songs like “Blues for Cubby” off of 2006′s Right on Time, which was another highlight. They were probably the perfect way to kick off the show, and set a high bar for Lo-Pan, who I don’t even know how many times I’ve seen this year at this point (another to come Friday in Philly). Union Pool‘s sound suited them well as they ran through tracks from the instantly classic Salvador, released earlier this year.

Guitarist Brian Fristoe played probably the best and most engaged set I’ve seen from him — Lo-Pan‘s stage configuration puts the instruments out front and the aforementioned Jeff Martin in the rear, and Fristoe is usually pretty subdued compared to drummer Jesse Bartz and bassist Skot Thompson, seemingly preferring to let the fuzz and the riffs do the talking — but it didn’t wind up doing him any favors. Late in the set, he broke a string and the considerable momentum Lo-Pan had built coming off “Bird of Prey” took a substantial hit.

It didn’t stop them. Jokes were tossed back and forth in the break while Fristoe changed out the string, and Lo-Pan was tight enough that when they picked back up and closed out with “Generations,” I didn’t hear another word about the string. In talking to the band before and after they played, they said they were well rested, and they played like it. Comparing it to a few weeks back at Stoner Hands of Doom XI, they were pretty great then, but better last night. Clearly just a band at the top of their game making the most of their time on the road. It’s exciting to watch them.

And what to say about Suplecs? The New Orleans trio’s bassist Danny Nick mentioned from the stage that it was the band’s first time in Brooklyn since opening for Clutch and The Hidden Hand at L’Amour in 2004. Last time I saw them was right around then as well, at South by Southwest that year. So seven years and two albums later, they loaded onto the Union Pool stage and let loose with songs from across their discography. I missed the start, but came back in shortly thereafter in time for the anthemic punk chorus of “Stand Alone” from 2011′s Mad Oak Redux, which carried even more heft live, Nick and guitarist Durel Yates sharing vocal duties and driving the rhythms nailed down by the stellar drumming of Andrew Preen.

“White Devil” from 2001′s Sad Songs… Better Days made my night, plain and simple. And that Suplecs followed it up with their take on The Beatles “I Want You (She’s So Heavy),” which was included on the same album tacked to the more shuffling “Unstable” was even more righteous, but what was most striking about their performance wasn’t even how tight the band was — 15 years of a solid lineup will do that — but just how much diversity there is in their material.

Maybe it’s harder to hear on their records (though I would and have argued that their studio stuff has much to offer in terms of personality), but throughout the course of their time, it occurred to me just how many different roads Suplecs was taking the audience, from the hardcore punk of “Stand Alone” to the ultra-stonerly riffing of “White Devil” and “Dope Fu,” to the extended jams and solos they fused into the latter half of their set, to the off-the-cuff take on early Metallica — I think it was “Four Horsemen” — they threw into their finale. Yates, Nick and Preen made all these changes and shifts work, so that if you weren’t paying attention, you hardly even noticed the movement from one to the next.

On a night of impressive feats, that of Suplecs was as appropriate a finish as The Brought Low‘s was a start, and for that, and for the utterly transcendent fuzz of Lo-Pan in between (yeah, yeah, I know, I’m a nerd for Lo-Pan), the show was perfect. The crowd was filled with good people, Union Pool‘s sound is killer, and I even managed to make it back to my foggy river valley in New Jersey without running out of gas. I couldn’t possibly have asked more from the show than I got.

And for that, I owe Fred from BrooklynVegan thanks. I’m no promoter, and I don’t know squat about putting on shows, but Fred was cool enough to ask me if I wanted to be involved and it was hugely appreciated. Thanks too to everyone who came out and made it as special as it was. If I needed another reason to be stoked for Philly this weekend (I didn’t), this was it.

Extra pics after the jump, as always.

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It was a long road that finally brought New Orleans trio Suplecs to Small Stone Records and the 2011 release of their fourth album, Mad Oak Redoux. After putting out their debut, 2000′s Wrestlin’ with My Lady Friend, and second album, 2002′s Sad Songs… Better Days, Man’s Ruin Records collapsed. A negative experience that apparently continues to this day with This Dark Reign Recordings soured Suplecs‘ reissue of the latter, and although tours alongside Clutch helped get their name out to the stoner rock underground, they never were quite able to capitalize on it the way some other acts were.

All this, of course, pales in comparison to the devastation Hurricane Katrina wrought on their hometown in August 2005. After retreating to Austin, Texas, for a time and still living out of a FEMA trailer upon his return, bassist/vocalist Danny Nick oversaw the release of the third Suplecs album, the Pepper Keenan-produced Powtin’ on the Outside, Pawty on the Inside through local Nola imprint Nocturnal Records that same year. This too would prove a less than satisfactory situation for the band, although obviously they had much bigger things on their mind at the time.

Following more personal trials, in 2008, they recorded their fourth album again through Nocturnal, but work, real life and other such considerations got in the way, and when Suplecs finally approached Small Stone about a deal the next year, label honcho Scott Hamilton sent them northward to Mad Oak Studios to re-record their latest batch of material with engineer Benny Grotto. The resulting and appropriately-titled Mad Oak Redoux (review here), is a crowning achievement for the simple fact that it finally got released. For a while there, it was looking kind of grim.

The songs on Mad Oak Redoux contain the sort of cathartic release one would have to expect. Tracks like “FEMA Man” deal with the aftermath of Katrina, while “Tried to Build an Engine” tackles some of the more human elements that can bring a person down. If nothing else, Mad Oak Redoux is a triumph for Suplecs on the level of the persistence it took to realize it. More importantly, though, it rocks.

Danny Nick — joined in Suplecs by guitarist/vocalist Durel Yates and drummer Andy Preen — took time out for a phoner before the band’s trip to this year’s South by Southwest in Austin. We discussed what they and what he personally had been through in the six years since the release of the third album, everything it took to get the new one out, the band’s Mardi Gras rock and roll drive-bys, signing to Small Stone, and much more.

Complete 4,800-word Q&A is after the jump. Please enjoy. Special thanks to Larry Stern for the photos from SXSW.

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I don’t remember the last time I looked forward to a tour the way I looked forward to the Irving Plaza, NYC, stop of Metalliance. Usually, I’ll get down with a couple bands on a bill, maybe even three or four on a great night, but this lineup was insane. Helmet playing Meantime, Crowbar, Saint Vitus, Kylesa, Red Fang, Howl and The Atlas Moth. Even the bands I was ambivalent about seeing I wanted to see. It’s been a while since that was the case for a single show.

The difference, I suppose, is that Metalliance is essentially a traveling festival. That means shorter sets — 20 minutes each for The Atlas Moth, Howl and Red Fang, then gradually more for Kylesa, Vitus, Crowbar and Helmet — but still, the thought of seeing this many bands on one bill made the show an absolute must. It’s been on my calendar for months. Whatever else happens, Metalliance.

There was a meet and greet before doors and I was invited for that, so I went and chatted awkwardly for a couple minutes with the bands, mostly the dudes in Red Fang about bassist/vocalist Bryan Giles‘ recent interview, but also got my picture taken with Wino, which was cool despite the lengths at which I’ll protest about hating that kind of thing (both having my picture taken and my picture taken with dudes in bands). The conversation steadily fizzled and everyone, myself included, went about their business. I grabbed the first of the evening’s several $8 Guinnesses, made my way upstairs to stake out a spot. It’s Irving Plaza instinct. I’ve seen more shows from that balcony than I can remember to count.

It was early, though. The Atlas Moth didn’t go on for maybe another 20 minutes, and the place was still basically empty, so the beer went fast. When they took the stage, I went downstairs to take the first of the evening’s many, many photos, and check out their set. I had been served a digital promo of their Candlelight Records debut, A Glorified Piece of Blue Sky, when it came out, but it must have slipped through the cracks. They were post-metal, and apparently down one of their three guitarists, but not terrible. They said from the stage that they’ll have a new album out in the fall. Maybe I won’t have my head up my ass about it this time. No promises, but it could happen.

If I’m not much familiar with The Atlas Moth, I’m a little more directly “take it or leave it” on Howl. The Rhode Islanders don’t really do it for me musically, but even they put on a good show, and I heard from several showgoers over the course of the night how much they enjoyed their set. They were heavier than I recalled them being, but just tipped to the far side of the doom/metal equation, and watching them made me feel old. Think I’d be used to that by now.

Part of my “meh” factor for Howl‘s set might also have stemmed from anticipation for Red Fang. Having never seen them before and so thoroughly dorked out over their forthcoming Murder the Mountains Relapse debut (second full-length overall), I was more or less dying to see their set. They opened with a couple tracks from their self-titled, and hit the new single “Wires” before closing with “Prehistoric Dog.” I felt justified in my excitement by their performance, as they more or less ripped through the material — not in the sense of rushing it — just making it all sound meatier and meaner. They were the first of the night’s several killer acts.

As I mentioned, with Kylesa, the set-times began to lengthen, but even a half-hour of stuff from them seemed short. Bathed half in darkness by the projected art of their Spiral Shadow album, the dually-drummed five-piece were also much heavier than the production on their record might lead you to believe. “Running Red,” from 2009′s Static Tensions, was a particularly welcome inclusion, and though the vocals were high in the mix, everything still came through well enough.

With the double-guitar/double-vocals of Laura Pleasants and Philip Cope, it’s probably really easy for some of Kylesa‘s complexity to become a wash in a live setting (I’ve seen them before but not yet on this touring cycle owing to January’s ridiculous snowfall) depending on who’s working the sound. I think they got a decent treatment at Irving Plaza and was glad to get the chance to have “Don’t Look Back” from Spiral Shadow injected straight into my head from the amps as opposed to the CD. I also got a new appreciation for bassist Corey Barhorst, who I think is a much bigger part of what makes Kylesa so damn heavy than anyone gives him credit for, myself included. I know they tour like bastards, but I was glad to see them this time around, especially after enjoying the album so much.

What can I possibly say about Saint Vitus? I felt like life was doing me a personal favor by their reuniting at Roadburn 2009, and I’ve seen them twice now since then, and I feel the same way. “Dying Inside,” “Born too Late,” “Clear Windowpane” — they were all fucking fantastic. The only challenge I had was trying to decide which I was most into (I finally settled on “Dying Inside”), but the whole set was earth-shakingly heavy. I don’t know how Crowbar felt about having to follow them, let alone Helmet, but I know I certainly wouldn’t want to. They also played the new song “Blessed Night” from the impending whatever-they’ll-put-out, and it was even better in-person than on the YouberTubes clips of it I’ve seen.

I’ve done plenty of worshiping at the altar of Saint Vitus before, but it’s worth noting that even just in terms of the chemistry between the members of the band, they’ve got it down. Even since I saw this lineup — Scott “Wino” Weinrich, vocals; Dave Chandler, guitar; Mark Adams, bass; Henry Vasquez, drums — in Brooklyn late in 2009, their time on the road has made them tighter as a group, and the songs sounded all the more killer for it. Vasquez, who came aboard as a replacement for founding drummer Armando Acosta owing to the latter’s failing health (Acosta died last Thanksgiving), does an excellent job driving the material, and watching Adams, Chandler and Weinrich on stage is like calculating a geometrical proof to discover why the word “legendary” so often appears directly before the band’s name.

If they’d been the only band of the night, I still would have made the trip into the city for the show, but to then have Crowbar follow them was when things really got surreal at Metalliance. It’s like one of those “But wait — there’s more!” infomercials, except that instead of useless, easily-broken shit you get high-grade metal. Crowbar were in sludgy fashion, and the guitar sound, which I bemoaned after their set at the Championship Bar and Grill in Trenton this past December, was much improved coming through the Irving Plaza P.A. They ran through a smattering of the highlight cuts from their career, offering a post-”Planets Collide” mini-encore in the form of latest single “The Cemetery Angels,” from their first album in six years, Sever the Wicked Hand.

It was interesting to compare the Saint Vitus and Crowbar sets in that the two long-running (admittedly Vitus longer running than Crowbar) acts have very different stage presences. Crowbar guitarist Kirk Windstein is clearly the star of the show. It’s his band all the way through, he’s the last of the founding members, the only songwriter and not to disparage the contributions of his band, because they sounded good, but you could probably have any number of musicians up there filling those roles. In terms of presence, Chandler is one of two very strong focal points in Saint Vitus, the other being Wino. Bassist Mark Adams, while a founding member of the band, is overshadowed personality-wise by the guitarist, and from the look of it this past Friday, that suits him just fine, but still, Saint Vitus — even apart from the aura their decades of influence carries with it — are more of a total band experience, where with Crowbar, it’s Windstein‘s gig and everyone knows it.

What that rounds out to, at least as regards Metalliance, is two unmistakable, diverging roads leading to a killer set. The place cleared out a lot after Crowbar with Helmet still to go, but those who stayed were ultimately rewarded for their effort. The truly unfortunate thing about Helmet is how their dissonance got bastardized in the later part of the ’90s by the nü-metal movement. That’s not to say their own burgeoning commerciality didn’t have a role to play, but the sound they became known for fostering wasn’t necessarily the way they actually played. As Meantime nears its 20th anniversary (originally released June 23, 1992) and Helmet has become a more melodically-centered band — the staccato riffing of guitarist/vocalist Page Hamilton taking a back seat — the songs themselves remains eerily relevant.

Hamilton is without a doubt the central figure, though, even more so than Windstein is to Crowbar. Though he’s had roughly the same band with him since 2006, Helmet is his band. All the same, their rendition of the Meantime album was welcomed by those who stuck around to see it, and an appropriate salvo to the evening’s unbelievable gait. When I left, it wasn’t yet 11PM, but I was already dead tired. Six hours of show will do that to you.

Feels redundant to even say it, but if Metalliance hasn’t hit where you are yet, you need to cancel whatever it is on your plate and go. As I noted previously, I took over 2,100 photos at the show, and most of them were crap. About 280 weren’t, and if you want a small sampling of that batch, click the “Read More” link below. Special thanks to Steve Seabury for making the night happen.

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There’s a new Saint Vitus song posted in the forum already, so I figured I’d bring my nerding out for the impending Metalliance show in NYC this Friday to this side of things with a quality clip of Crowbar. Filmed last Saturday (March 19) at One Eyed Jacks in the band’s hometown of New Orleans, here’s Crowbar as part of the Metalliance:

Badass.

Released six years to the day from its predecessor, 2005’s Lifesblood for the Downtrodden, the latest album from Crowbar, dubbed Sever the Wicked Hand (E1 Music), finds the New Orleans sludge progenitors embarking on a full-circle turn of their own influence. With visual layout by Mike D. of Killswitch Engage, mixing and mastering by Zeuss (Shadows Fall, etc.), management by Hatebreed’s Jamey Jasta – with whom Crowbar guitarist/vocalist/central-figure Kirk Windstein also plays in Kingdom of Sorrow – and a take on their traditional sludgy sound that seems at times to favor the kind of heavy breakdowns that the subsequent generation of metallers made their name on, it could easily be said that Crowbar are now under the influence of those whom they most influenced. Listening to a song like “Liquid Sky and Cold Black Earth,” even acknowledging that the ultra-groovy breakdown is nothing new to the Windstein musical/riff-writing arsenal (he’s been doing it since the early ‘90s to great affect), on Sever the Wicked Hand, the approach is given a musical context it didn’t have even six years ago.

And why not? A lot’s happened in that time. The already-noted Kingdom of Sorrow has released two albums, and Down – the Southern metal supergroup in which Windstein joins C.O.C.’s Pepper Keenan on guitar – released their third album to huge acclaim and commercial success on the road. On perhaps a more personal note, Windstein’s sobriety is a topic of discussion lyrically on several of the Sever the Wicked Hand tracks – “Cleanse Me, Heal Me,” “As I Become One” and the title cut –and a song like the late-arriving ballad, “Echo an Eternity” seems to be not much more than your typical “rocker’s song about his kid,” if given the twist of being run through the typically Crowbar, slow-played, downtuned interpretation. That said, the lyrical appeal that runs throughout Sever the Wicked Hand, and indeed across Crowbar’s whole discography, is Windstein’s unflinching honesty. If what that brings out of his venerably guttural voice in 2011 is love for his child and his struggle to stay sober, I’m not about to fault him for that. I’d rather take what’s heartfelt than something born out of kowtowing to the expectations either of fans or critics.

Among the critiques I’ve heard of Sever the Wicked Hand is that, “it’s awfully fast,” and indeed, upon hearing advance-leaked cut “The Cemetery Angels,” I thought the same thing, even as that song breaks into one of the slowest riffs on the album for its second half. Tracks like “Liquid Sky and Cold Black Earth” and closer “Symbiosis” offer plenty of the languid pacing Crowbar is known for, and I’ll go further to say it’s a myth that Crowbar only plays slow. Some of their greatest early-career triumphs – songs like “All I Had I Gave” from 1993’s self-titled and “Waiting in Silence” from the 1991 Obedience Thru Suffering debut – relied on the juxtaposition between fast and slow parts, and that holds true for the Sever the Wicked Hand material as well. Windstein at this point knows what works in Crowbar, and he makes good use of their solidified sonic pastiche on “Protectors of the Shrine” and centerpiece “As I Become One,” which breaks into a melodic guitar interplay between Windstein and fellow six-stringer Matt Brunson that helps break the intensity Sever the Wicked Hand’s first half and set up the 3:45 ambient interlude “A Farewell to Misery” – itself a launch point for the record’s back end.

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I’d have done a 2011 list earlier, but honestly, after the massiveness that was the top 20 countdown, I needed a break from all the list-type stuff. Next thing I knew, January was more than halfway over and no predictions had yet been made about what some of the best things to come would be. Just shameful.

This is just going to be a two-parter, and I’m keeping it to five albums on each list for a total of 10 records to look forward to in 2011. If that’s not enough for you, well, stay tuned, because I’m sure there’s going to be plenty more than 10 reviews posted this year. Hell, I think there already have been, so there you go.

The reason these are “the sure bets” is because I’ve already heard them and know they rule. Let’s get to it:

Lo-Pan, Salvador: The Ohio four-piece’s Small Stone label debut full-length has “classic” written all over it. I heard some rough mixes back in December and I’ve heard some less-rough mixes now, and I honestly haven’t felt this way about a straightforward stoner rock record since I heard the first Sasquatch album in 2004. The songwriting is brilliant, the performances masterful and the production stellar. You’re gonna shit when you hear “Chichen Itza” and “Deciduous.”

Crowbar, Sever the Wicked Hand: It’s kind of funny, but Crowbar influenced a whole younger generation of bands and on Sever the Wicked Hand, it sounds like that younger generation has re-influenced Crowbar, or at least reminded them of what they do best. Some of the material on Sever the Wicked Hand is a little fast, but there are some real quality tracks, and at this point it’s been so long I’m just glad they have a new record out.

Earth, Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light I: Part one in a series of two new works by Earth , Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light I (review here) brings cello accompaniment to Dylan Carlson‘s trademark drone guitar, filling out the sound with a subtle and melodic lushness it’s never before had. Earth are never going to be for everyone, but their latest should delight longtime fans and catch a couple newcomers as well.

Weedeater, Jason… the Dragon: Sludge meets swampy Southern blues on the latest record from the North Carolinian outfit which, like Earth, will be released via Southern Lord in March. Their sound is as nasty as ever, but there’s evidence of stylistic branching out in songs like “Homecoming” and “Palms of Opium,” and it’s exciting to hear the band trying new things, especially when they work. Full review is here.

Six Organs of Admittance, Asleep on the Floodplain: I’ve been a nerd for this Ben Chasny solo project for a number of years now, and on his new record, which is due out on Drag City on Feb. 22, the Comets on Fire guitarist does away with some of the psychedelic and/or droning aspects of the last couple albums in favor of a return to acoustic solo-songwriter material. Translation: He’s right in his element. More to come.

Tomorrow we’ll do Pt. 2, which will be full of pure speculation, and thus a lot of fun.

If you’ve ever wondered what it might be like to have Kirk Windstein yell at you with his hood up while standing at the bottom of a stone staircase (and who hasn’t?), ArtistDirect just debuted this new video for the track “The Cemetery Angels” off Crowbar‘s upcoming release, Sever the Wicked Hand. Heavy:

Sever the Wicked Hand is due out Feb. 8, 2011, on E1 Music. Check out Amy Sciarretto‘s original post of the video here. She’s good people.

They’re from New Orleans, they play sludge, and they’re friends with Philip Anselmo, but they’re not EyeHateGod and they’re not Crowbar. Housecore Records upstarts haarp (properly written sans capitalization and with the double-A, much to the chagrin of Microsoft Word’s autocorrect function) make their full-length debut with The Filth, an aptly-titled hour of sludgy malevolence, more modernly metallic than the prior-mentioned Nola outfits, and capped off with brutal (again, in the metal sense) vocals courtesy of Shaun Emmons, who fronts the old-school single-guitar four-piece with a three-layer approach: high screams, mid-range gutteral bellows and low growls. Across The Filth’s nine tracks, he’s consistently a focal point, but there’s room left for the riffs of Grant Tom as well. It seems haarp are interested mostly in being as heavy and as loud as possible at all times.

That isn’t an approach I’m about to degrade. It works for haarp, and from the start of the album with “The Rise, the Fall” (companioned by closer, “The Fall, the Rise”), they prove they’re good at it. Doesn’t do much for dynamics, but haarp leave changing tempos to handle most of that, drummer Keith Sierra Jr. seeming to land no less heavily on his kit when playing slow or fast, and bassist Ryan Pomes opening The Filth highlight “A New Reign” with deeply metallic rumble. There are some flashes of melody in Tom’s guitar work on that track, and on the closer, but they’re mostly swallowed in the wall of noise brought out in the production, which makes the overall haarp sound engulfing. Scott Hull mastered The Filth and Housecore’s engineer-in-residence David “The Puma” Troia recorded with Anselmo himself credited as producer, so the band comes out of it sounding clear and full, though Emmons’ vocals are disproportionally high in the mix at times. A cut like nine-minute centerpiece “Peerless” dominates, but listening, I can hear the mute at the end of each rhythmic snippet of screaming, and it distracts me from the music surrounding.

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After the experience of seeing Entombed at Championship Bar and Grill in scenic Trenton, New Jersey, I knew I had to go back for Crowbar. It’s about a two-hour ride from where I live, but that room is too small to miss it. The difference is, instead of foolishly putting myself right up front for Jersey hardcore’s finest to punch at and spill my beer, I hung back and actually got to enjoy the set.

Crowbar‘s first tour in however many years, blah blah blah. More important as far as I’m concerned is how rusty is the band behind guitarist, vocalist and recent Obelisk interviewee Kirk Windstein, and how rusty is the man himself? Crowbar‘s been playing shows for a couple months now, and I was ultra-glad to have the chance to see them. The sound at Championship’s wasn’t ideal, but they made the best of it, and the crowd ate it up, moshing, chanting the band’s name, throwing fists, etc. For me, it was just such a relief to see Crowbar again. I couldn’t help but smile.

They played the hits: “Planets Collide,” “I Have Failed,” “Thru the Ashes,” “New Dawn,” “Conquering.” “Lasting Dose” from 2001′s Sonic Excess in its Purest Form was especially well-received, and the title cut from the upcoming Sever the Wicked Hand — Crowbar‘s first album for E1 Music, due out in February — was welcomed like an old friend. The guitars sounded low, which was a bummer, and that pushed Windstein‘s vocals way to the front. Both he and guitarist Matthew Brunson (who also contributed some unfortunate backing vocals to “Planets Collide”) were playing through Dime amps, apparently named by Dean Guitars in tribute to Dimebag Darrell, and they looked brand new. I hope they didn’t have to pay for them.

But the lack of guitar oomph aside, there was zero to complain about in terms of the setlist, the Yuengling special at the bar or anything else. I didn’t see any of Black Tusk‘s set, but heard a bit from outside, and they sounded meh, for whatever that’s worth. Crowbar played an hour and did no encore, ending with “All I Had I Gave,” and it was a professional if distant set. I noted the O’Douls on Windstein‘s amps, and his eyes looked like they were seeing the show a new way. I think everyone’s pulling for him for doing what he needs to do, and if there was a problem with the show, it wasn’t that the singer was drunk. Actually, as his voice was pumped high through the Championship’s P.A., he sounded better than I’ve ever heard him.

Getting to split out of there at about 11:30 was a bonus, and since it was Trenton and I’ve never been down there without seeing flashing lights, the cops showed up to tend to some dude on the ground outside. I don’t know what the deal was there, but at this point it’s just part of the experience. Might as well list it on the website: “Tonight: Crowbar, Black Tusk, A Life Once Lost, seven other bands… and the cops.” Good fun all around.

Kirk Windstein live photos by Lorenzo Ferraro (website here).

On the afternoon we spoke (Friday, Nov. 12, in case anyone’s feeling precise), Crowbar guitarist, vocalist and driving-force Kirk Windstein turned in the final approved version of the artwork for his band’s first album in six years, Sever the Wicked Hand, which is due out Feb. 8, 2011. It’s their E1 Music debut, and as Windstein has seen his profile grow to new heights the past several years in bands like the supergroup Down and his Kingdom of Sorrow project with Jamey Jasta of Hatebreed, the planets look to be aligning for the most successful run Crowbar‘s had yet in their 20-plus years together.

With several months of sobriety under his belt and a cross-band support system of family and friends to back him, Windstein embarks optimistically on this new era in the band with whom he first made his name. In our discussion, he mentioned several times “leaving the negativity behind” as a theme present on Sever the Wicked Hand, and he seems to have done just that. For a guy with a reputation for such downtrodden tones and whose emotional and existential struggles have been documented lyrically across three different decades now, he seems awfully happy.

And who could begrudge him that? He’s certainly earned it, and if the leaked advance track on the album, “The Cemetery Angels” is any indicator, in addition to getting his personal life together, he hasn’t lost touch with what made Crowbar the pivotal sludge act they’ve always been. I’m sure there’s bound to be some of his trademark Crowbar ballads on Sever the Wicked Hand, but one listen to “The Cemetery Angels” and it’s clear Windstein hasn’t left out their special brand of heaviness. When he says “Bring it down!” two minutes and 20 seconds into the song (which you can hear in a YouTube clip at the bottom of the interview), he’s not just talking about tempo.

Sludge from the master thereof. Crowbar is rounded out by guitarist Matthew Brunson (a Kingdom of Sorrow bandmate), bassist Patrick Bruders and drummer Tommy Buckley, but as ever, Windstein‘s guiding the chaos. In the course of our conversation, he discussed returning to Crowbar after working for the last several years exclusively on Down and Kingdom of Sorrow, getting sober, balancing his time between bands, recording Sever the Wicked Hand, touring and much more.

The full Q&A is after the jump. Please enjoy.

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If you had plans for the night Crowbar‘s gonna be in town, you might want to seriously consider canceling them. Dates below. Click the image to open it bigger.

I’ve heard the word sludge used to classify bands from Pro-Pain to Neurosis to Grand Funk Railroad, so let’s be clear right off the bat that when I talk about sludge, I mean ultra-aggressive, screaming doom, played slow, played angry. It’s a term as nebulous as any other, but going from that specific definition, and considering the bands I’m about to recommend who play it, we should have a pretty good basis to work from.

There are some acts who take sludge to vicious extremes — see Fistula or Sollubi — blending in elements of black metal or SunnO))) style drone minimalism, but I’m not talking about them either. Where to start with sludge is the root of the subgenre, the key formative groups who’ve made it possible for a new generation to pull the sound in the multiple directions they have.

Because I couldn’t narrow it down to five, here are seven killer sludge bands to start with:

Crowbar: Their later material actually has little in common with what’s currently thought of as sludge, but 1991′s Obedience thru Suffering and 1993′s Crowbar are essential to understanding what the sound has become. The latter (recently reissued) is a better starting point for its more memorable songs.

Eyehategod: As much an influence in lifestyle and persona as for their music, the New Orleans gods of sonic fuck-all have nonetheless produced some of sludge’s most classic material. Just not in the last decade. At all. Start with 1993′s Take as Needed for Pain.

Negative Reaction: Their early stuff was more geared to sci-fi, which made the long-running Long Island outfit unique among their viscous peers. 2000′s endofyourerror saw them start to veer away from that into more personal lyrical territory, but it’s a stunningly abrasive listen nonetheless.

Buzzov*en: Dude. To a Frown. Dude.

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A quick reissue roundup for anyone who may have missed these:

Godflesh‘s 1989 über-classic, Streetcleaner, has recently been given a two-disc reissue by Earache Records that may or may not be timed to coincide with the announcement that the band will reunite for next year’s Roadburn festival in The Netherlands. Earache, who are the last of the “metal majors” to habitually send out physical promos of albums to press, have been on a spree for the last year or two in repressing landmarks from their back catalog, and Godflesh has been no exception, as the recipient of several boxed editions and multi-album compilations. Streetcleaner is Streetcleaner, though, so it stands on its own.

With the second disc offering unreleased mixes, live tracks from 1989-1990 and rehearsal and studio demos — all of which may or may not have been heard before — the 2010 Streetcleaner is as biting as ever, and shows why over 20 years later, the band are still a much-wanted commodity. It’s one of those albums that, if you don’t have it, you probably should, so I thought it was worth a look.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the sludgy spectrum, three Crowbar records just got reissued by E1, making them more widely available than ever before thanks to the label’s far-reaching distribution. Crowbar, Live +1 and Time Heals Nothing cover the venerable New Orleans slingers’ work from 1993-1995, and though I’m not sure why E1 would go after the rights to the second album, a live EP and the third album without also reissuing 1991′s Obedience Thru Suffering debut, I’m sure they have their reasons, as they’ve been pretty on the ball since deciding it was okay to like metal again in 2008/2009.

All three discs are bare-bones, and by that I mean no bonus material, but honestly, I’m so desperate as for any Crowbar release at this point I might consider picking these up just for the sake of their being newly issued. With the band allegedly beginning a new period of activity that involved touring last month down south, heading north next month and supposedly even recording a new album, there’s plenty to hope for, and of course, guitarist/vocalist Kirk Windstein has been plenty busy in Kingdom of Sorrow and Down (neither of which is as good as Crowbar), but man, it’s time for some new Crowbar. Today.

Until then, this is as good as it’s going to get, and in the case of Godflesh — who I’m actively hoping won’t release a new album — it may be as good as it’s ever going to get. Sure we can sit here and complain about rehashing the same records over and over, but when you find a better way to spend time than listening to Crowbar again, you let me know.

No, they don’t announce the release date of a new album to go along with it. Here’s news from the PR wire:

New Orleans-based, doomed-out, punk/blues/southern rock hardcore freaks, Eyehategod, will head out on another American trek this December in support of absolutely nothing but the glory of hedonism and debauchery. Eyehategod are the originators of a genre now known as “sludge,” a combination of raw, sick vocals and slow, heavy, down-tuned, grooving negative riffs that run together in a live setting in a sometimes volatile mess of guitar feedback, pounding drums, cigarettes, beer, vodka and hurt feelings. See the band in the following cities before they self-destruct:

Eyehategod Winter Tour 2010
w/ Phobia
11/30 Bottletree Birmingham, AL
12/01 Hideaway Johnson City, TN
12/02 Tremont Charlotte, NC w/ Crowbar
12/03 The Oasis Charleston, SC
12/04 The Earl Atlanta, GA w/ Sons of Tonatiuh
12/05 Hi Tine Memphis, TN
12/06 Birdy’s Indianapolis, IN w/ Goatwhore
12/07 Downtown Little Rock, AR w/ Goatwhore
12/08 Drifter’s Fayetteville, AR
12/09 The Marquee Tulsa, OK
12/10 Kordova San Antonio, TX
12/11 Reno’s Dallas, TX
12/12 Red Seven Austin, TX

While some other New Orleans bands took to the skies and fled to gallivant drunkenly on European tours in the devastated aftermath of Hurricane Katrina — maybe even going so far as to document it on recently-released DVDs; as if to flaunt how quick they were, when shit got rough, to abandon the town after which they may or may not have, say, named their first album — Suplecs, never as commercially viable, never as dominant in the press, never selling out big halls, were right fucking in it. Having their shit stolen. Having the walls of their practice space come down. Having to deal with it not as a band, but as people. Wondering where each other were. Not wanting to, but having to leave.

I remember interviewing Suplecs bassist/vocalist Danny Nick late in 2005 when they put out Powtin’ on the Outside Pawty on the Inside on Nocturnal Records, and the trauma was palpable. If that album was just trying to cope with what happened to the band and its individual members, then their new offering on Small Stone, Mad Oak Redoux, is a look at their experience from some distance and perspective. There’s some anger — “FEMA Man,” “World’s on Fire” — some disappointment — “Try to Build an Engine” — and an almost defiant spirit of strength, which comes out right away in opener “Stand Alone.” On that track and the later “Stepped On,” Suplecs lets their punk roots through, “Stand Alone” offering the title line in the chorus for one of Mad Oak Redoux’s most memorable and urgent excerpts. Hearing it from these guys, I believe it, just like I believe it when either Nick or guitarist Durel Yates — who also handles vocals — confesses “I just thank the good lord above I got good friends in Austin, Texas” on “FEMA Man.”

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