“On this most Veridian of weeks, Margarita Witch Cult bursts into your pot den wielding a crème brûlée torch and a fifth of shitty tequila akimbo. The Brummie lads scoff at your bowl, sneer at your bong, and head straight for your dab rig. These aren’t your mellow stoners. No. Margarita Witch Cult is for fans of the murderously occult stylings of Green Lung, Orange Goblin, and Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats.” Drinks with cults.
“I’ve always rooted for the Reading trio, enjoying their blend of NOLA-inspired sludge and bluesy hard rock. Ultimately, there is little changing about Morass of Molasses’ third attempt at greatness. Aptly molasses-thick sludge grooves meet bluesy melodies and wild drumming, while a bearded bro shrieks into the mic. Inject a lil stoner vibe, and you’ve summed up everything to expect.” Down with the thickness.
“’Twas two weeks and change before Christmas, 2018, when I went to see Madder Mortem. The venue turned out to be one of those backrooms behind a cafe, the kind regularly rented for family gatherings and bat mitzvahs and stuff, complete with random sad disco ball. There were 5 bands in total, and the whole thing lasted for 5 goddamn hours because of half-hour breaks. It was a weird and exhausting afternoon into night, and the only good thing until the main act hit the stage was a largely unknown troupe called ¡Pendejo!, who blew me away with a unique brand of brass-infused, Spanish-sung stoner metal.” Latin heat in the street.
“Alright, here’s a puzzler for you. Indianapolis sludge metal band Conjurer released their first full-length Old World Ritual in 2015. Then, in 2019, follow-up Sigils dropped. In 2020, Conjurer chose to swap names, now operating under the moniker Veilcaste. Same band members and everything. As Veilcaste, their first release listed is, naturally, Old World Ritual, dated 2015. That’s fine, people rebrand their older albums all the time. Anyway, back to business. Veilcaste play a lumbering, ponderous sort of stoner sludge doom with little in the way of frills or other decoration.” Sludge by any name…
“Infusing the traditional Black Sabbath-style doom with smoky desert vigor, El Camino de la Serpiente (The Path of the Snake) rocks and rumbles rambunctiously. There’s a pleasing looseness to the music, a cool devil-may-care swagger that makes it impossible not to move along to the many, many riffs packed into the 46-minute running time.” On this rock, they will build their doom.
“A four-piece out of New Jersey, Cassius King is led by guitarist Dan Lorenzo (Hades, Non-Fiction) and features former Overkill drummer Ron Lipnicki, Vessel of Light bassist Jimmy Schulman and on vox we have Jason McMaster (Watchtower, Spastic Ink, Dangerous Toys). Make of that what you will. Cassius King’s 2021 debut, Field Trip, was a straightforward piece of stoner-influenced heavy metal, with hints of classic doom.” Jersey royalty.
“Once known as Priestess, this power trio of Brooklyn musicians recently reinvented themselves as Reverend Mother and released a self-titled EP. Led by frontwoman and guitarist Jackie Green, the band’s sound on debut full-length Damned Blessing is a testament to their love of classic rock and metal like Black Sabbath, Jimi Hendrix, and The Doors.” Stone matriarch.
“I’ll not proclaim any prior knowledge of this band, nor even a particular affinity for their advertised genre of stoner metal. These Polish gents were selected on the bases of an excellent name and central conceit of an album featuring just 2 tracks over 30 minutes. Over that length of time, I was at least assured that it would not be too taxing to review Taxi Caveman. Interestingly, Galactic Slope is described on its one sheet as a sophomore bridge between their debut and third album, the expression of which suggests to me that it’s not a substantial release in its own right. Given there are but 2 tracks, and at great risk of editorial wrath, I’ll take each in turn.” Crazy taxi.
Last year, in the midst of endless lockdowns, I got my lucky mittens on King Buffalo’s excellent The Burden of Restlessness. I had not heard another record that more perfectly encapsulated the experience of isolation resulting from the pandemic, nor have I since. The album was announced to be the start of a rapid-fire trilogy, the finale supposed to come out before the year was through. The vinyl crash elongated that schedule a tad, which caused part two, Acheron, to drop in the middle of list season and tumble between wall and ship. It had deserved better; not only is it a wondrous and otherworldly psychedelic trip, the whole album was recorded live in an actual cave for a unique sound not easily reproduced. So let me make it up to the band by at least addressing the closing chapter of the pandemic trilogy: Regenerator.” Royal animals.
“I have recently come to the conclusion that it is sometimes a good exercise to deliberately review two records of the same genre back to back. Not to directly compare the two but to get one into the right mindset and to think about makes a great record in this particular field. And so it is that I find myself reviewing two stoner metal records in consecutive weeks. It’s lucky that I am not trying to compare them, however, as Copenhagen, Denmark’s Lucid Grave could not be more different—within the confines of stoner metal, anyway—from last week’s Holyroller.” Where the mountain meets the desert.
