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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Technically speaking, I don’t think I’m cool enough to even talk about bands like this, but the echoing tones of San Franciscan duo Barn Owl nonetheless get suitable visual accompaniment in the new video for the track “Turiya,” so I figured I’d post it. The song comes from Barn Owl‘s new album on Thrill Jockey, Lost in the Glare, which — by some bizarre cosmic coincidence — happens to come out today, Sept. 13. Imagine that.

Here’s the clip, directed by John Davis:

Tonight I was supposed to go to the ball game in hopes of seeing a certain shortstop get his 3,000th hit (being a numbers guy myself, I can appreciate that), but it got rained out. My backup was to catch Sourvein and Kings Destroy in Brooklyn, but by the time I’d driven back to Jersey from The Bronx, well, I’d already driven to The Bronx and back, and Brooklyn‘s even harder to get to, so my motivation was pretty much dead. I’ve no doubt all parties will survive and the show will go/has gone on despite my absence. If you went, I hope you had a good time. I hung around the house and failed at several endeavors in succession. Most you lose. Some you win.

I wanted to close out this week with something modern, melodically satisfying and heavy as all hell, and the 17-minute “We Can” from Grayceon‘s All We Destroy fits all those bills perfectly. In the interest of honesty, I’ll confess that I’m not listening to it as I write this — as is my usual habit — instead streaming the new Sungrazer album for the umpteenth time on the Dutch 3voor12 site, which you might recognize as being where all those Roadburn audio links lead.

Yesterday I talked with guitarist/vocalist Mike Scheidt from YOB — whose new album, Atma, was reviewed Wednesday — for about 50 minutes, from which I’ll put a Q&A together hopefully in the next week or two. The plan is to take pictures at their NYC show Tuesday and use them with the feature, but you never know, a piano might fall on my head. If one does, the interview’s done anyway. It was killer.

Next week, I’ll have a review of that show, plus new albums from Ramesses and Borgo Pass, among others. Next Friday is also the Truckfighters gig at the Cake Shop in NYC where if you tell them you read The Obelisk, you get in for free. More info on that is here, but the short version is it’s a pretty sweet deal, and I hope one you’ll take advantage of if you’re in the area. Next week I’m also going to go back and revisit the top albums list from last year and see how it holds up. That’ll be fun. Maybe just for me, but fun all the same.

Alright, now the Sungrazer‘s over and I’m listening to Grayceon. No regrets. Wherever you are, have a great and safe weekend. See you on the forum and back here Monday with a track from The Brought Low‘s new EP and other goodies.

On the back of the self-released debut from San Francisco post-doomers Nero Order, there’s written the following: “There is sustenance and there is death. Beyond this, nothing is for everyone. Do not mistake familiarity for cohesion. He who draws a line does not necessarily do so for want of the ability to create a circle. There is the wheel and there is the road. This is our will.” It’s a far cry from Type O Negative’s “Don’t mistake lack of talent for genius” from the back of Bloody Kisses, but apparently, Nero Order, whose four-track/54-minute full-length is called The Tower, have a lot to say. Indeed, the four-piece, which formed in 2006, is virtually clawing at “the epic” from the get-go. From that on the back of the digipak to “All of nature is restored by fire,” quoted inside, to the fact that the shortest song on The Tower, “Celebration of a Wounding,” checks in at nine minutes and the longest is nearly twice that, Nero Order’s ambition seems limited only by how much a disc and a listener’s attention will hold. Joined by Oxbow and literature’s own Eugene S. Robinson for third cut, “Every Pillar and its Crumbling,” the band seems all the more geared toward the grand.

That has its ups and downs, like everything. Anyone who’s ever heard Napalm Death knows a 30-second song can be an epic and that mere track length doesn’t determine anything more than a band’s ability to interconnect and/or repeat parts. The Tower at times has that part-collection feel to some of its songs, and somewhat ironically, it’s “Celebration of a Wounding,” which follows opener “Signs of Five” (11:21), that affects the most cohesive build. While much of the other material follows the post-hardcore/post-metal (whatever genre you want to stick these guys in, they’re post-it) ethic of intellectualism in approach, it seems to do so at the expense of a structure. That’s not to say guitarist Harper doesn’t have an idea the path the tracks are taking – it’s not like Nero Order are just jamming out – but it’s hard to write a song that’s 11 minutes long and that still feels like a song. The Tower drifts into and out of fast and slow tempos, and vocalist Lindo adapts his voice from woeful shouting to semi-melodic clean singing accordingly, and though the vocals are well mixed, they sound dry and like they’d benefit from some reverb, to help accentuate the sonic space Nero Order are creating musically. The rhythm section of Hoyt on bass and Butler on drums has its work cut out for it in keeping up with the changes, but one expects if “slapping it together and rolling with it” was Nero Order’s thing to start with, The Tower would be a much different record.

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Bay Area foursome The Burial Tide specialize in sludge-laden crushing atmospherics, choosing to slow down the likes of Sleep and Eyehategod and complement with synth noise and samples rather than bite off the same Neurosis/Isis line that an endless string of bands seems to want to pretend they just thought of, like, right now. Their debut demo (their demobut, if you’d prefer) is self-titled and was produced by Brainoil‘s Gregg Wilkinson at Earhammer Studio.

Their pacing and their tonality might be familiar, at least to those who’ve felt Sunn and Orange amps vibrate their chest cavity at close range, but The Burial Tide‘s noisy side brings with it an air of individualism and artistry that suits the band well over the course of The Burial Tide‘s two component tracks, “Wayfarer” and “Prophets and Shadows.” The latter cut seems to deteriorate rather than close, and the former keeps a suitable balance between the crushing riffs, harsh vocals and the ambient edge.

They’ve got the social networking spectrum pretty much covered, all the more conveniently so with a page that seems to be specifically dedicated to letting you choose your adventure when it comes to getting in touch with and/or hearing their songs, but because it’s easily accessible and because I can, here’s all of The Burial Tide‘s The Burial Tide, streaming from their Bandcamp page:

It was four years ago, so you’ll have to forgive me if I can’t remember just what it was that struck me as so problematic about cello-laden San Francisco three-piece Grayceon’s 2007 self-titled first album. I vaguely recall thinking the band were too smart for their own good, taking the tropes of doom and exploiting them while also somehow pretentiously positioning themselves above them intellectually. Or maybe I’m making that up and I just thought the songs sucked. I really don’t know. Whatever it was, it was enough to keep me away from 2008’s This Grand Show (released, like the first record, on Vendlus), and as Grayceon make their Profound Lore label debut with All We Destroy, and I revisit the trio’s sound – obviously developed some in the intervening time – it’s a mixture both intriguing and tight-knit. The cello of Jackie Perez Gratz (who has guested for Agalloch, Neurosis and Cattle Decapitation, and who also plays in Giant Squid) features heavily, counterbalanced by the guitar of Max Doyle and drums of Zack Farwell, both also of the thrash outfit Walken.

Gratz and Doyle contribute vocals to All We Destroy, though mostly the former, and Grayceon moves into and through different modes of heaviness as the six tracks play out. Second cut “Shellmounds” finds Farwell ripping through black metal blastbeats (cleverly mixed so as to not dominate Gratz’s overlying vocals), and opener “Dreamer Deceived” takes churning post-metal riffage and puts the onus on a vocal narrative and the varying atmosphere of the cello to stand Grayceon out, which, to the band’s credit, it does. Short cuts to quiet passages, interludes or whatever you’d want to call them, provide some respite from the crash, but there’s a tension in “Dreamer Deceived” that sets the tone for much of All We Destroy, and as Gratz and Doyle’s voices come together for combined semi-melodic chants, the experience is less that of a song than a performance. The diverse structures of the material – chorus-based but not necessarily chorus-dependent – feed that idea as well. Some background screaming (another black metal element to go with the drumming on “Shellmounds”) adds a glimpse of extremity, and the overall impression of the first two tracks is that while Grayceon have their feet in a variety of sounds, they feel no need to commit to one over the other. If you’re looking to pigeonhole them – as perhaps I was when I encountered their debut – they don’t make it easy.

“Shellmounds” has a satisfying linear build, made all the more effective by Doyle’s angular riff-work, but there’s no question that the meat of All We Destroy comes on with the staggering 17-minute “We Can.” Though it meanders some (how could it not?) with the metallic guitar at around eight minutes in, it’s Gratz’s most memorable vocal – the lines “As I live and breathe/You can’t save me” being especially chilling – and the point on All We Destroy where the band’s dynamic range most shines. An interplay of screams past the 10-minute mark reminds some of earlier Kylesa, but here, Grayceon are in territory all their own, and two minutes later, when they return to the huge central figure riff – the massive fucking plod of it – it’s as satisfying as the album gets, outshining the even-slower section that follows, Gratz running counter to Doyle and adding, true to the nature of her instrument, a melancholy and thoughtful feel to the song’s close. Honestly, “We Can” probably could have been the album itself and I’d still feel like I got my listen’s worth.

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Their version might not be as rockin’ as the one Puny Human did on Sucking the ’70s II, and they may not be doing anything sonically that Monster Magnet didn’t do 20 years ago (or Hawkwind 20 years before that) but San Franciscan space weirdos Lumerians made a cool video for their cover of The Osmonds‘ song “Crazy Horses,” which they redubbed in the French “Chevaux Fous,” and I figured what the hell. For its visual oddness alone, it’s worth the two and a half minutes it takes to watch.

There isn’t much outlandish or sonically experimental in their structures or intent, but San Francisco metallers Slough Feg have always been regarded more as a critic’s band than a fan favorite. On their eighth album in their 20-year existence – a first release through Profound Lore (appropriately enough a critic’s label, literally and figuratively) — The Animal Spirits, the venerable four-piece reinforce this notion by simply being too good at what they do to be accessible. Understand, I’m not saying that Slough Feg is showing off Robert Fripp-style guitar manipulations or anything like that – their riffs have more in common with Iron Maiden, Dio and Thin Lizzy – but just that the band’s material is so full and compact that it’ll go right over the heads of most casual listeners. I’m not saying that’s a good thing or a bad thing, and it’s only my theory, but The Animal Spirits, which follows 2009’s unabashedly awesome Ape Uprising! and offers no fewer moments of demented genius from vocalist/guitarist/auteur Mike Scalzi, seems to bear out that Slough Feg are working on a different level entirely from fans and most bands alike.

For example, take “Trick the Vicar,” the opening track of The Animal Spirits and seemingly the inspiration for the album’s scowling cover. At 1:55, the song is barely an intro, and yet Scalzi and fellow lead guitarist (they’re both credited in the liner notes with lead guitar and I’d argue that’s fair given how much time the two of them spend soloing and how often the lead tracks take the place of what most bands would consider rhythm tracks) Angelo Tringali pack enough barn-burning riffage and clever angularity into the song to make it feel three minutes longer, while the alliterative and referential lyrics wink at Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden and remind those who can keep up that it’s all in good fun. The galloping “The 95 Thesis” reinforces Slough Feg’s reputation as one of the finest American producers of classic metal, and what it and the instrumental “Materia Prima” that follows epitomize is the band’s ability to balance the epic and the unforced. Where some power metal feels over-the-top and stagey (granted, in some cases that’s the appeal), Slough Feg accomplish a sound no less grand with a feel as natural as low lights in a barroom. The defiant triumph in Scalzi’s voice on “Free Market Barbarian” is no less effective for the lack of pomp surrounding.

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I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting The Crepe Place in Santa Cruz, California, but I think we all know that crepes are the world’s most perfect food. It’s like a pancake, a burrito and the best wrap you’ve ever had all put together. You can get a crepe for breakfast, you can get a crepe for lunch or dinner. The planet is worth keeping around as long as crepes exist on it.

Thus, it’s pretty obvious that San Francisco‘s Assemble Head in Sunburst Sound and Sleepy Sun are just using their upcoming string of five tour dates together (it’s a solar thing) as a way to justify getting everyone together and driving an hour and a half to Santa Cruz for crepes. I know for a fact crepes are available in San Francisco, but maybe The Crepe Place‘s are just that much better. Judging by their menu, and their name, it seems to be a specialty.

I salute Assemble Head in Sunburst Sound and Sleepy Sun for their initiative and their taste in casual European-style cuisine. Were I not on the opposite end of the country, I’d happily join them for a pre-show crepe brunch next month.

Here’s the PR wire info on the tour:

Assemble Head in Sunburst Sound have announced a handful of California tour dates with fellow San Francisco natives Sleepy Sun. Assemble Head released their critically acclaimed third album When Sweet Sleep Returned in April 2009 on Tee Pee Records.

Assemble Head in Sunburst Sound w/ Sleepy Sun
7/21 The Crepe Place – Santa Cruz, CA
7/22 The Cellar Door – Visalia, CA
7/23 Spaceland – Los Angeles, CA
7/24 Pappy and Harriet’s – Pioneerstown, CA
7/25 Casbah – San Diego, CA

Now, without the word “Headlining” in the, um, headline, I’m not sure this even qualifies as news. Think about it: “Black Cobra Announce Tour,” and you’re sitting there saying, “Well, duh.” That’s like saying “Sky Announces Blue.” Of course they’re announcing a tour. That’s what they do.

The difference is this tour sees Black Cobra headlining, and that’s good, because they’ve spent the last who knows how many years blowing everyone they’ve played with off the stage. The headlining spot is their rightful place, and I wish them the best of luck.

The PR wire has dates and info:

Hot on the heels of its recent five week US trek supporting fellow Bay Area riff lords High on Fire, Black Cobra will launch a month long headlining tour of its own – dubbed The Weight of the Crown — that will kick off on July 16 in Portland, OR. The fast-rising unit continues to tour in support of its latest album Chronomega (Southern Lord Records).

Black Cobra’s “The Weight of the Crown” Tour is presented in part by Brooklyn Vegan and will hit 27 US cities, running through August 15 in San Francisco. Support on the massive trek will be provided by Rhode Island’s Howl with Ohio’s Struck by Lightning (July 22-August 7) and France’s Monarch (August 8-15) as openers.

“After having the opportunity to annihilate audiences across America alongside the mighty High on Fire, we are eager to head out on the road again,” said Black Cobra in a statement. We’re looking forward to amping it up with this ear-demolishing headlining tour.”

Black Cobra’s The Weight of the Crown US Tour
(* All dates include support from Howl)
July 16 Portland, OR Satyricon
July 17 Seattle, WA Comet Tavern
July 18 Boise, ID Red Room
July 20 Denver, CO Larimer Lounge
July 21 Lawrence, KS Jackpot
July 22 Minneapolis, MN Triple Rock
July 23 Madison, WI Frequency
July 24 Chicago, IL Empty Bottle
July 26 Columbus, OH The Summit
July 27 Rochester, NY Bug Jar
July 28 Boston, MA Great Scott
July 29 Providence, RI AS220
July 30 New York, NY Webster Hall Studio
July 31 Philadelphia, PA North Star
August 1 Baltimore, MD Otto Bar
August 2 Richmond, VA Strange Matter
August 3 Raleigh, NC Volume 11
August 4 Charlotte, NC Tremont Music Hall
August 5 Atlanta, GA The Earl
August 6 Memphis, TN Hi Tone
August 7 New Orleans, LA Hi Ho
August 8 Dallas, TX Skillman Street
August 9 Austin, TX Emo’s
August 11 Albuquerque, NM Launchpad
August 13 Los Angeles, CA Approved Fest
August 14 San Diego, CA Casbah
August 15 San Francisco, CA Bottom of the Hill

To know Slough Feg‘s music is to love Slough Feg‘s music, and though it’s not always easy to penetrate the heady sounds the San Francisco unit produces, those who’ve done so happily consider themselves part of a growing gnostic cult. 2009′s Ape Uprising! was a joy to ears tired of banal rock (I’m looking and can’t find a review; doubtless I decided the album was beyond my capacity for understanding), and with the announcement that their next record will be released through Profound Lore this Fall, one can only imagine the badassery to follow.

This might be old news to some of you, but it was new to me, so here goes:

The mighty Slough Feg will release their next album in North America through Profound Lore Records and we couldn’t be more psyched to work with one of our favourite heavy metal bands ever. Mastermind Mike Scalzi has been pounding away in the studio over the last while crafting what we could only imagine to be one of the best heavy metal releases you’ll hear this year. Slough Feg’s next full-length album should be released early fall. Expect more album updates to surface sometime soon.

In the meantime, Scalzi and Co. are gearing up for another tour, this time a West Coast run alongside none other than Profound Lore alumni The Gates of Slumber. Dates are as follows:

May
05/28 – Seattle, WA @ Comet Tavern (w/ The Gates of Slumber)
05/29 – Vancouver, BC/Canada @ Red Room (w/ The Gates of Slumber)
05/30 – Portland, OR @ East End (w/ The Gates of Slumber)

June
06/01 – San Francisco, CA @ Thee Parkside (w/ The Gates of Slumber, Black Cobra)
06/02 – Boyle Heights, CA @ The Blvd (w/ The Gates of Slumber)
06/04 – Ramona, CA @ Ramona Mainstage (w/ The Gates of Slumber)
06/05 – Las Vegas, NV @ Cheyenne Saloon (Doom in June fest)

Though I never went back to it for repeat listens, I’ll be the first to admit that’s more my fault than that of Worm Ouroboros‘ self-titled Profound Lore debut. Certainly, if occasion put me anywhere near the West Coast while the Bay Area outfit were doing the run of dates outlined by the PR wire below, I’d be there, and I can only recommend you do the same, circumstances permitting. Here’s the info:

Worm Ouroboros will be doing their first short US tour on the West Coast in support of their self-titled debut album.

They play their record release show on May 1st in San Francisco with Laudanum and Dispirit (the new black metal band of John Gossard of Weakling and Asunder). Their West Coast tour goes as follows:

May 1 – San Francisco, CA @ Hemlock Tavern w/ Laudanum, Dispirit
May 13 – Eugene, OR @ Lucky’s w/ Rye Wolves, Vivemancer
May 14 – Seattle, WA @ The Comet w/ Rye Wolves, Vultures 2012, Dirtworshipper
May 15 – Bellingham, WA @ Jinx Art Space w/ The Narrows, Lozen
May 16 – Tacoma, WA @ New Frontier w/ Lozen
May 17 – Portland, OR @ Tube w/ Atriarch
May 18 – Portland, OR @ Satyricon w/ Portal and Aldebaran
May 21 – Chico, CA @ Cafe Coda w/ La Fin du Monde
May 22 – Arcata, CA @ The Alibi w/ Speed of Darkness
May 24 – San Francisco, CA @ The Elbo Room

12:05AM: City Hotel, Tilburg, The Netherlands: You know, before the day started (and by day, I mean the show, which started at 4PM), I didn’t think it was too ambitious a plan to review all of the Afterburner special post-Roadburn event in one sitting. “Nah, I can handle it,” I said with confidence that only my first shots of caffeine since last Wednesday could have given me. “No problem.”

Well, the thing is that Afterburner, while not quite as intense to witness as Roadburn itself because it only runs on two, not four, stages at the 013, is still a great deal of show. Even in this allegedly more laid-back setting of just the Green Room and the Bat Cave, I found myself unable to see absolutely everything, leaving me once again to pick my battles. This is not a complaint. I want to make that perfectly clear. It’s like trying to choose what to see at the Met in New York. Pretty much whatever direction you head in, you’re gonna see some cool shit, but to do it all in one day can’t be done.

In other words, bear with me. This could be a while.

Jex Thoth opened in the Green Room at 4PM. For a nifty comparison, I’ll put their opening slot today in contrast with Death Row‘s yesterday in the main hall. You know those Windows 7 commercials where they take the already exceptionally good-looking people and they all start talking about how they thought of Windows 7, and then it cuts to a dream sequence of even more cartoonish exceptionally good-looking people? That’s like the jump from Death Row, who already ruled, to Jex Thoth, who were good at what they were doing, but a little silly at the same time.

It’s no real puzzle why the San Francisco five-piece got such a huge response from the crowd (which Death Row could have used some more of yesterday afternoon). Be-caped lead singer Jessica Thoth being some kind of ritualistic cult doom sex symbol certainly doesn’t hurt. Yeah guys, she’s the cute redhead who’s into Pentagram and plays with candles and incense on stage while wearing a cape and singing about serpents and flame vigils. Have fun living in the woods together after your pagan wedding, raising naked children of the forest.

Because that’s supposed to be the fantasy, right? I don’t know. I didn’t get into the set. The music was cool, I guess, but nothing really mind-boggling, and I just have a hard time taking that kind of band seriously. You know, if you were a fat bald dude hitting those same notes, playing with incense and wearing a cape, you wouldn’t be playing Roadburn. You’d be playing Dungeons & Dragons. No, Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. In your mother’s basement. Where you live. Oh, and you’re 47.

I think I’ve made my point. Looks matter. Even in doom, being the proverbial hot girl is helpful.

When they were done, Orange Sunshine‘s late-’60s obsessed garage psychedelic rock was a refreshing change of pace and a nod to the stoner rock purist set, who surely appreciated the lack of posturing. I know I did. I had to chuckle though at how much one of their riffs reminded me of Blue Cheer‘s version of “The Hunter,” but I’d soon learn just how honestly they come by it, since after an extended heavy jam on The Rolling Stones‘ “Gimme Shelter,” drummer/vocalist/Euro-Chong lookalike Guy Tavares shouted out their set to the memory of Dickie Peterson, then they closed with “Summertime Blues” and “Rock Me Baby,” in that order. There’s a word for that, and that word is “charm.”

And I’ll pause here for a quick side note. Nachtmystium played this fest. Where else in the world are you going to have the opportunity to see Nachtmystium and Orange Sunshine in the same building? These kinds of things only exist at Roadburn.

Church of Misery continued their assault on common decency with their set, playing mostly the same stuff as Friday when they were on the main stage, but killing nonetheless for the smaller capacity venue that is the Green Room. Hell, I’m relatively certain Walter could have had Church of Misery play the same songs every four days in a different room and people would have migrated from one stage to the other to see them again. It’s not a chance that comes up every day, and watching guitarist Tom Sutton do his stoner rock softshoe while vocalist Yoshiakki Negishi pretends to shoot people in the crowd — well shucks, my eyes get all misty just thinking about it.

Having seen them three times now over the last two years (all Roadburn performances), I can say they haven’t yet put out a studio record that captures just how heavy they actually are in a live setting. Houses of the Unholy came close, but the sheer volume they wield might be too powerful for modern recording technology. In this way, they are truly ahead of their time. As for their riffs, I think we all know they fall under the heading, “born too late,” which is just fine.

It was almost cruel to have to witness them do it, but Sweden‘s Graveyard followed in a sonic twist that came on like a big break between Church of Misery and Eyehategod. No complaints, it’s just not really my thing at this point. But hey, if you like skinny Swedish dudes with expensive equipment, vintage t-shirts and tight flannels, ’70s mustaches and hair looking like something off an Allman Brothers album cover, playing the rock and roll their dads probably listened to, then have I got a band for you.

To be fair, they were incredibly tight across the board, and the Green Room was so crowded that for most of the set, the only vantage point I had was through the doorway. It’s like there was a sign outside saying, “Must Be this Cool to Enter” with a line drawn under some guy with bellbottoms’ ‘stache as a measure. I’m nowhere near that cool, so I got some falafel and waited for Eyehategod. Things could have been worse.

I never fail to be surprised that I’m not the world’s biggest Eyehategod fan. According to my records, I own all of theirs (which isn’t saying much since they haven’t put out a full-length in a decade), but if you were to ask me to name six Eyehategod songs, I don’t think I could do it. Well, maybe six, but probably not 10. And I’ve dug it every time I’ve seen them, tonight included. They were fucking great, but in terms of what I listen to on a given afternoon, I’ll rarely reach for Eyehategod while sitting on the porch and sipping a beer.

A fun note; when bassist Gary Mader broke a string, vocalist Mike Williams, guitarist Brian Patton and drummer Joe LaCaze did a quick couple songs under the moniker of their “side-project,” Fuckmouth, and I managed to catch it on video, which you can see below.

Williams was good and fucked up tonight. When he came out on stage, I said to myself, “This looks like a guy who’s going to fall over at some point during his set,” and sure enough — toward the end, to his credit — he went backwards into LaCaze‘s drums. Where was Jimmy Bower in all this? Over up front on stage right, mostly in the dark, playing to the crowd. Kicking ass like he will.

Eyehategod was a good note to end Roadburn on. A slow, rung out, feedbacked note that seemed to last even after the amps were shut off. But being the greedy son of a bitch I am, I wanted to see what Dutch locals The Machine were doing in the Bat Cave, so I meandered in the middle of Eyehategod‘s set into the other room, only to find the young trio jamming out heavy Colour Haze style with vocalist/guitarist David Eering throwing in some “Stone Free” and not sounding like a complete jackass while doing it, which is nothing short of an astonishing feat for so junior and so caucasian a player.

Jamming is apparently their thing, but they do it well, and have two records out already with a third written and are looking for a label. I can’t imagine one of the sundry European heavy rock labels wouldn’t be interested given the opportunity. I know I would.

But alas, I only caught their last two songs — both jams — and they were done, so I went back to the Green Room to close out the night and the fest with Eyehategod. They slammed their way through an astonishing amount of material, and I’m pretty sure I heard Williams at one point start singing Pantera‘s “I’m Broken,” though it could have just been a coincidence of cadence. In any case, good times, and when it was done, I split out on the quick (no afterparties for my unfriendly ass) and came back here to write about it, stopping only for some pommes frites along the way.

This review is long enough, so I’ll save any grand reflections on Roadburn for another time under the consideration that even the most interested of Obelisk attendees has failed to make it this far (I don’t take it personally). My plan for tomorrow is to get up, be out of here by 11AM checkout and head — where else? — to Schiphol airport in Amsterdam to see when and if I can reschedule my flight. The Patient Mrs. says it might not be until next weekend, but I need to go in-person anyway since British Airways‘ sundry hotlines and website have proven useless in this volcanic clusterfuck. I expect to spend a good deal of time waiting on line only to find out nothing, but these are the things we have to do, aren’t they? That’s a small price to pay for the weekend I just had.

And I’ll tell you something else: If I am stuck in Europe for another week, you bet your ass I’m getting my francophile self to Paris tout de suite. I’m pretty sure I’d be the first displaced American ever to do that. Ever. In the history of the world. Ever.

Until then…