Posts Tagged ‘Rock’

Electric Valley Records – 31st January 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

The four-piece ‘sludge ‘n’ roll stoner metal band’ from Columbus, OH, come with the description of being ‘the audio equivalent of bong water spilled on a Ouija board’

The Doom Scroll – such an obvious but well-placed piece of punning – is their third album, and lands a full decade after their debut EP – or as they put it, they ‘exhaled a cloud of riffs over the doom metal scene with their debut EP, Stoned to Death… [and] since then, they’ve consistently delivered a steady dose of sludgy, groove-laden stoner doom potent enough to make Beelzebub himself bang his horns.’

For this outing, they promise ‘a reinvention of their signature sludge ‘n’ roll style of doom. Equal parts unrelenting and crushing, yet infused with heavy blues-inspired riffage, this new chapter sees Weed Demon expanding their sonic horizons like never before… Expect doom, gloom, sludge, thrash, death, blues, and even a dash of dungeon synth for good measure.’

That this is an album which contains just five tracks (six if you get the vinyl, which features a cover of Frank Zappa’s ‘Willy the Pimp’) is a fair indication of its form and the duration of said tracks: apart from a couple of interlude-pieces, they’re all six-plus minute sprawlers, with the colossal ‘Coma Dose’ spreading out over more than nine and a half minutes.

And so it is that after the slightly pretentious and proggy-sounding synth-led instrumental intro that is the woozy, wibbly, ‘Acid Dungeon’, they’re thundering in with the rifftastic ‘Tower of Smoke’. It’s a quintessential stoner-doom effort, a mid-paced slab of thick, distorted riffage with a strong Sabbath via Melvins vibe to it. It’s big on excess – of course it is. It simply wouldn’t work without the widdly flourishes that spin their way up from the dense, grainy overdrive that just keeps on ploughing away. And it keeps going on – and on. As it should, of course. It simply wouldn’t be befitting to batter a leaden riff for three or four minutes – you can’t mong out to that.

‘Coma Dose’ starts out gently with some desert rock twangs and a shuffling beat that’s almost a dance on the beach kind of groove, and there are – finally – some drawling vocals low in the mix. A couple of minutes in, of course, the riff lands, and the vocals switch from spacey prog to growly metal, and just like that, things get dark and they get heavy. But for all the weight, there’s still a floaty trippiness about it, a softer, mellowed-out edge: it’s heavy, but it’s not harsh, or by any means aggressive. There are some flamboyant drum fills and a super-gritty bass break over the song’s protracted duration, and at times, it sounds as if the batteries are starting to run low as it slows to a thick, treacly crawl and Jordan Holland’s vocals sound as if he’s being garrotted – and again, this is all on point.

There are elements of hardcore to the shouted vocals and pummelling power of ‘Roasting the Sacred Bones’, while ‘Dead Planet Blues’ brings a quite delicate blues-rock twist and even a hint of Alice in Chains circa Jar of Flies.

Rather than push hard at the parameters of the genre, Weed Demon nudge at the edges in all directions, and this works in their favour. There’s plenty here to keep diehard fans of all things sludgy, stonery, and doomy content without straying into territories that don’t sit well, but then there’s enough to make it different and interesting.

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Cruel Nature Records – 14th January 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Released on various formats by various labels in different countries, the latest offering from genre-blasting French instrumental trio Toru is being released on cassette (and download) by Northumberland’s Cruel Nature in an edition of 65. Following on from 2020’s eponymous debut and a split release with Teufelskeller, which saw Toru join forces with CR3C3LL3, this time around, they’re different again, and having been featured as album of the day at Bandcamp Central just the other day, the signs are that Velours Dévorant could see them significantly expand their fanbase – and deservedly so.

Velours Dévorant featires five V-themed tracks defined by some riotous riffmongering and big, dirty, overdriven guitar noise with tempo shifts galore. Blasting in with ‘VHS’, it’s a manic ride through waves of tempestuous, bludgeoning racket from the very start. Trilling feedback fulfils the duty of a lead guitar line, while a shuddering, ribcage-rattling bass tears its way out from the chaos atop some heavy, but highly skilled jazz-inspired drumming.

Some will likely describe their sonic blitzkrieg as ‘experimental’, but that’s something of a misrepresentation, in that it suggests a lack of coherence, a haphazard and unplanned approach. The sudden stops and starts, the moments where a chord hangs, suspended in the air for just the briefest moment before the fractionally-delayed snare smash or cymbal crash, where the three of them simultaneously draw breath in just a split second… those microcosmic moments require remarkable precision – unquestionably, intuition is key, but rehearsal too. The skill is to make it sound haphazard, unpredictable, to keep the listener on the edge of their seat, buttocks clenched, while having it all worked out. Every composition contains moments which feel like the sonic equivalent of watching trapeze artists, where you tense and momentarily stop breathing as they fly through the air, seemingly in slow-motion, tense in case they fail to grab on: will they keep it together, or will everything collapse into a mess of sludge like a sewer rupturing and spewing a fountain of slurry?

These are long tracks – the shortest is over five and a half minutes – with infinite twists and turns. The skewed, surging jazz-grunge of ‘Voiles’ – a whopping eleven and a half minutes in duration – is representative, and encapsulates the essence of the album. The guitars squall and screed in a showcase of noise-rock par excellence, while the bass lurches and snarls, grooves and grinds, and the percussion is simply wild. It’s like listening an instrumental version of every track by the Jesus Lizard all at once. There’s a low-impact, atmospheric mid-section that rolls and rumbles, yawns and splashes… lazily would e the wrong word, but it takes its time, with bent guitar chords twanging like elastic bands, while the sparse percussion meanders seemingly without aim. But then it all reshapes and takes form once more, building, building, and then exploding so hard as to detonate so hard as to blow your eyeballs out of their sockets. Fuck, when these guys hit the pedals, they really do go all out.

I’ve heard a plethora of zany noise-rock acts, and have loved many – most of whom are so obscure that to reference them or draw comparisons would be the most pointless exercise imaginable: ‘hey, wow, this band I’ve not heard of sound like a bunch of other bands I’ve never heard of, that’s informative!’.

On Velours Dévorant, Toru take the tropes of post-rock, with its protracted delicate segments and slow-building atmosphere, and incorporate them within a noise-rock setting, with the result being epic tunes with some incredibly graceful, and ultimately poignant expanses, pressed tight against some of the most explosive overloading, overdriven abrasion going. And then, of course, there are the jazz elements: ‘Volutes’ is the apex of jazz/grunge hybridization, and it works so well. Not sold on Nirvana meets The Necks? Trust me.

The fourteen-minute title track is… special. It is, in many respects, the evolution of post-rock circa 2004. Chiming guitars, infinite space, haunting atmosphere. The intro is magnificent, beautiful. Her Name is Calla’s sprawling ‘Condor and River’ comes to mind. That use of space, that simmering tension, that sense of something growing which is more than… well, it’ s simply more. There are things hidden. When the riffing lets rip, holy shit, does the riffing let rip, fully shredding blasts of distortion tear through with obliterating force. The track feels like an album in its own right.

It seems like a while since I’ve felt compelled to describe an album as ‘epic’ – but this… this is next-level epic.

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20th December 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Here we are on the cusp of the second week of January and still mopping up releases from December. And that’s ok. I don’t get why everyone is so hung up on the end of year / new year thing anyway, and I certainly don’t get why so many end of year lists are published in November. It made sense when we were tied to print media, and monthly magazines went to print a good month in advance, meaning the December editions were being written in October to hit the shelves at the end of November, but in the age of the Internet? Nah. And the sheer volume of music being releases means that things often have a slower diffusion, in contrast to the 80s and 90s when people raced to buy 7” and CD singles on the week of release after a big advance push which was essential for that chart placing, which meant Radio 1 Top 40 airplay on a Sunday afternoon and the possibility of being on Top of the Pops.

So, my somewhat belated coverage of this new single by Kent-based alternative act Karobela is anything but an afterthought. Boom.

The song is, they say, ‘a kick back, in your face retaliation to everyone who thought they could just kick you to the curb’. Many of us have been there: left out forgotten, excluded – not necessarily by design, but because ‘oops’. Well, you can tag along if you like, why don’t you? Out of sight, out of mind as the phrase goes.

The band have clearly put plenty of thought into this tune that’s structured around a low-slung bass groove and builds to climactic, impassioned choruses. It does teeter perilously close to classic rock / indie funk in places, but the energy and raw sincerity carry it through, and they sound like a band who will really grab certain demographics in a live setting, while the relatable content of ‘Afterthought’ is also likely to be a winner.

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After three years of silence, Pântano return in full force with their new single, "Inferno." The band, whose name translates to “swamp,” delivers a raw, sludgy southern rock sound with a touch of classic Alice in Chains seamlessly woven into the mix.

Staying true to their dark and melancholic essence, the band unveils a new lineup and an even more refined, mature sound on this latest track.

With Nuno Rodrigues (WAKO) on vocals and Arlindo Cardoso (Low Torque) on drums, Pântano now features Aires Pereira (Moonspell) on bass and Paulo Basílio (Ex-Votos) alongside João Arroja (Low Torque) on guitars.

"Inferno," mixed and mastered by the renowned Daniel Cardoso (Anathema, Anneke…), marks the natural evolution of the band, blending a melancholic and dark atmosphere with heavy, slow riffs imbued with a strong emotional weight.

The single is accompanied by an impressive music video, directed by Beatriz Mariano, which masterfully captures the intensity and introspection of this new chapter for Pântano.

Watch the video here:

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27th September 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

They’re pitched as being for fans of, among others, the Jesus Lizard, QOTSA, Earthless, King Gizzard and Lizard Wizard, Fu Manchu, Daughters, and Beak, and their influences are listed as Dick Dale, Black Sabbath, Queens of the Stone Age, David Bowie, Ennio Morricone, Scott Walker, Pink Floyd, Fear, Erkin Koray, and Minute Men. And for those familiar with the band, the fact that Cigarette is their first album in five years is likely to be a cause of excitement.

Citing Daughters has become somewhat tarnished lately, in the wake of allegations against singer Alexis Marshall, which saw the band halting activity and him dropped by this label., but then, there likely a lot of people who aren’t aware of this, and moreover, it seems that even convictions and out of court settlements are no obstacle to becoming president of the United States, so perhaps a lot of people aren’t especially concerned by such things.

I’m not sure what The Giraffes have been up to for the last five years, or how they’ve managed to avoid my radar for the entirety of their career – after all, they formed back in the 90s, and released their debut album in ’98, with Cigarette being their eighth. But this is something that happens a lot: there are simply so many acts out there, it’s impossible to be aware of all of them. But we’re here now.

Some may say that five years is a long time to cook up just seven songs, but quality beats quantity, and Cigarette is solid and consistent in the quality stakes. There’s an abundance of drawling, stoner swagger. If ‘baby Pictures’ makes for a gentle start, they slam on the gas and go pedal-to-the-metal on the riffarola of ‘Pipes’, before ‘Limping Horse’ goes all out on the blues-driven scuzzy rock ‘n’ roll.

‘Dead Bird’ brings the requisite slow-tempo acoustic mid-album breather, and in doing so brings an almost folksy aspect to proceedings, while also strongly reminiscent of Alice in Chains in the harmonies.

Revisiting politically-charged single cut ‘Million Year Old Song’ in context of the album, and realising grimly how much can change in just a few weeks, it clicks that I’m reminded a little of Rollins Band with its sinewy lead guitar work and rant blasting over a low-slung groove.

It closes off with aa couple of six-minute epic sluggers, with ‘The Shot’ starting out with a delicate slow-burn but builds, snaking, smoking, and spun with a dash of flamenco and a swirl of drama into a writing monster of a track, before ‘Lazarus’ provides a worthy finale, with its atmospheric, almost post-rock epic intro that leads into a sultry strut that underlies a contemplation on death delivered in a gritty, Mark Lanegan-esque growl.

There’s a solid, vintage feel to Cigarette – which is to say it’s by no means ground-breaking, but while bands like this were ubiquitous in the ‘90s, now, they’re not so much. It’s not only nostalgia that means I miss them; there’s a place for this kind of chunky, dependable rock ‘n’ roll with a whiff of attitude and the perspiration of graft, and Cigarette is ultimately satisfying.

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‘Woke Frasier’ is the third and final single from the Leeds band’s upcoming second album I Have A Physical Body That Can Be Harmed, out on November 8th via Big Scary Monsters.

They write: “You can think of this as a sort of sequel to the ‘Torture Cube’ video, also by George Chadwick. Who can say whether or not Rodney Fipplecash will make further appearances within the Thank cinematic universe? Only time will tell.”

Check it here. It’s woke gone mad, I tell you!

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Bordeaux-based rock/metal band Seeds of Mary are back with a powerful new video for ‘Amor Fati,’ the first single from their highly anticipated new album, LOVE, set to be released on October 18th via Klonosphere / Season of Mist.

Directed by Thomas Duphil, the video for ‘Amor Fati’ delivers the big, bottom-heavy riffs that fans have come to expect from Seeds of Mary, coupled with dark and somewhat melancholic choruses.

Watch the video here:

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The band comments: ‘Amor Fati’ is the opening track of the new album. We chose it as the first single because it can be seen as a distillation of what the rest of the record holds: heavy riffs, haunting melodies, and ethereal atmospheres. Lyrically, it has a philosophical approach, drawing on the concept of Amor Fati dear to the Stoics and Nietzsche: ‘love what happens.’ The lyric video, created by our friend Thomas Duphil, features bodies in all their roughness and imperfections. This was the most obvious way for us to talk about self-acceptance, reality, and the trials of a fleeting life that leave their mark on our flesh. Each song on the album LOVE deals with a facet of love. Here, it’s perhaps its most intimate expression. And the fact that this track was written during the Covid period is probably no coincidence. We inevitably found ourselves confronting ourselves a lot during this significant time.”

LOVE, due out on October 18th, promises to be a defining moment in Seeds of Mary’s discography, blending their signature heavy riffs with dark, introspective lyrics and a raw, emotional edge. The album sees the band walking into heavier and darker tunes, incorporating more aggressive and screamed vocals, adding a new dimension to their already dynamic sound.

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San Diego-based alternative rockers Los Saints have released a new visualizer for the single ‘Hard’ off their recently released debut album Certified, out now ENCI Records.

Watch the video here:

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Art opens a window into the soul. It doubles as a haven for all of our most intimate thoughts, desires, and emotions. Like splashing paint on a canvas, Los Saints pour all of their experiences and feelings into a vibrant mosaic of indie, alternative, and rock. They piece together memories and mantras in the form of gauzy melodies, fuzzy guitars, and dusty rhythmic grooves. Co-founded by cousins Angel Mariscal [vocals, guitar] and Emiliano Garcia [drums], as well as mutual friend Gianluca Exposito [guitar], who has since parted ways with the band, the group have quietly buzzed out of the sleepy border town of Chula Vista, CA with sold out shows and acclaim from the likes of San Diego Union Tribune, Remezcla, Alternative Press, and more.

Now, Los Saints sharpen their distinct and dynamic signature style on their full-length debut LP, Certified.

“Los Saints isn’t just a band for me,” proclaims Angel. “It’s everything. It’s all I can do. That goes for the other guys too. The more we know ourselves, the more we know what our band is and are able to define our sound. Certified is who we are not just as musicians, but as people.”

Growing up in a Mexican-American family, he immersed himself in music. His mom hailed from Tijuana, and his dad grew up in the United States. Classic rap boomed through the house as he eventually gravitated towards Mac Miller and his “lifelong biggest influence” Cage The Elephant. In 2019, he formed Los Saints with Emiliano, envisioning “music almost everyone from any background can vibe with.”

In honor of their heritage, the group chose the moniker Los Saints.

“We were thinking of the Day of the Dead in Mexico, and its primary representation is a skull,” he goes on. “We needed to make it our own, so we turned it into ‘Spanglish’ by choosing ‘Los Saints’. Like the music, it’s a mixture.”

Los Saints initially gained traction with the Welcome To Confusion EP in 2022. The Honey Pop christened them “your next indie obsession,” while San Diego Union Tribune pondered, “Could Los Saints be Chula Vista’s version of Cage the Elephant?” Building on this momentum, the three-piece hit the studio with producer Keith Cooper (Dear Boy) and brought ‘Certified’ to life during sessions at Wildflower Recordings in L.A. The first single and opener “Faded” hinges on a bold bass line and a punchy drum groove. Guitars glow beneath a hazy and hypnotic vocal plea, “I don’t want you to look at me when you’re faded?”

On “Never Said,” a loose chime-y riff pierces a disco-style beat as falsetto rings out on the refrain.

“I’m not a dating app kind of dude,” he admits. “I’m a cave dweller, but I think so many kids my age can identify with these experiences of modern dating. On the first half of the song, you’re going into online dating with genuine intentions and looking for something true. The second half is the aftermath where reality hits, and your view changes. You realize all that glitters isn’t gold.”

Evocative of yet another dynamic, glitchy keys wrap around breezy acoustic guitar on the somberly nostalgic “If Everything Goes.” He sighs, “Don’t call me back, even though I’d like you to.”

“I was beating myself up for the way I am and how it affects romantic relationships,” he continues. “This person left your life, but you can’t help but blame yourself. Even though it was going to happen either way, you just think you’re the problem.”

Elsewhere, “Doctor” conjures “dark imagery of being interrogated like in a movie” via breathy lyrics and an off-kilter soundscape. Then, there’s “Hard.” Raw emotion seeps through the cracks in the vocals as thick distortion buoys the hook, “Help me see again who you are.”

“It’s about how being in a toxic situation—either romantically or with friends—has affected me and brought me down,” he states.

The title track culminates on a chantable chorus awash in shoegaze distortion. Stretching to a soaring climax, it evokes the feeling of “being isolated because you’re in a relationship that your friends and family don’t approve of.”

In the end, Los Saints bring the kind of emotion that bonds us together to the surface.

“When you listen to us, I hope you find our art to be a place of comfort,” Mariscal leaves off. “Sometimes, I cry when I write. I’m always trying to come up with songs you can connect to so you don’t feel alone. The world is a tough place. We can be friends one way or another.”

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Christopher Nosnibor

Being restricted to live shows within walking distance of one’s house really does change one’s perspective and selections. As much as it also significantly limits my options, I’m fortunate to have no fewer than three venues within this range, and spotting that The Royal Ritual – a band I’ve long been aware of but have never witnessed live – were playing at one of them provided more than enough of a poke to get out.

It’s not exactly heaving. That is to say, come 8:15, it’s still pretty quiet, even for a Wednesday night. But then, I noticed that York was conspicuously quiet all day today: driving almost empty roads to a near-dead Tesco was as welcome as it was strange earlier in the day. The first week of the school summer holidays, and it seems everyone has buggered off – apart from the tourists clogging the town centre, which was far from quiet in the afternoon. But tourists tend not to seek out relatively unknown alternative bands playing a mile or two out of town. They should. Live music is as integral to a city’s nightlife as its pubs and bars and so on. I once ditched a conference dinner in favour of a gig when visiting Stirling, having clocked that maybeshewill were playing, and in the process, discovered And So I Watch You from Afar, who absolutely blew me away, plus I got to explore a new venue. It was a memorable event, and one which has stuck with me. It’s unlikely the alternative would have had quite the same impact – and while I’ll never know, as someone who’s uncomfortable dining with strangers and making small talk, I’m as comfortable with my choice now as then.

Comfortable isn’t really my default, and caving crawled out of my bunker, this is an evening I’m quite content to hide in a dark corner with a pint and observe.

Material Goods are a last-minute replacement for Dramalove. It’s a solid, blank name which suits the duo’s style, which comprises some heavy, complex synth work paired with live percussion – and quite outstanding live percussion at that. The processed vocals are a bit muffled, but overall, the sound is dark and dense and the drums really cut through it with energy and force. Essentially, their palette is 90s alt rock, a bit NIN but with a vague dash of nu metal, and a bit Filter, too. Multitasking and a vast amount of gear affords the singer limited scope for movement on stage, but the sound has a really good, strong energy, despite the songs being pretty downtempo and downbeat.

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Material Goods

With Material Goods overrunning and Neon Fields also possessing an immense amount of flash-looking tech which needed setting up, we’re fifteen minutes behind time when they take to the stage. Sonically, they’re astonishing. Playing a hundred-and-twenty-five-capacity pub venue, they sound like half a million quid’s worth of gear in an arena. And the songs match it. They sound like they look: black clad, tattoo bands, neatly-trimmed beards, big, soaring emotional outpourings… And completely lacking in soul. Christ, this guy’s level of emotional trauma is enough to raise the blood pressure to induce a heart attack. Wracked with anguish and all of the pain of the lovelorn, the love-torn… And yet it’s all articulated so blandly, everything is so slick, and so one-level. The theatre soon wears thin, and I start to forget I’m listening to it while I’m listening to it. It doesn’t help that there’s a group of four people bang in front of me gabbing on and pricking around, pulling faces, play-fighting, the guys trying to impress the birds by demonstrating their strength by lifting one another up… they get shushed by a fan but even the absence of their distraction doesn’t really improve the experience. There’s some earnest, meaningful falsetto, and the penultimate song had some cliché tribal drumming, and they wrapped up their bombastic set ten minutes after the headliner was due on.

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Neon Fields

The Royal Ritual are also a duo who have an extremely ‘produced’ sound. But their approach to production owes more to the methods of Trent Reznor as pioneered in the early 90s on Broken and The Downward Spiral, balancing gritty live guitars with synths and fucked-up distortion and harnessing their tempestuousness in a way that creates a balanced yet abrasive sound. David Lawrie plays live electronic drum pads in addition to the sequenced beats, adding dynamics and live energy to proceedings, and flitting between the drum pads, synths, and mic stand, he’s incredibly busy throughout the set. But something about Lawrie’s delivery highlights everything that was absent on Neon Fields, and just carries so much more weight: the whole package brings a rush of adrenaline propelled by that emotional heft and solid force.

Objectively, the feel is very Stabbing Westward, and goes hard NIN at times in its combination of guitar, synths, and sequenced and live electronic drums. The Royal Ritual are strong on dynamics and atmosphere, and Lawrie is an intense and compelling performer.

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The Royal Ritual

He does break out of the moody persona to thank other bands and plug merch, but what do you do? In the current climate, bands sadly need to plug the stall. The fact that David steps out of broody tortured soul for two minutes of affable chap may seem hard to reconcile, but then, this perhaps speaks more of the human condition than remaining ‘in character’; people are complex and conflicted, multifaceted and inconsistent. And this is what truly lies as the heart of tonight’s performance by The Royal Ritual. Digging deep into the complexities of the psyche, there’s something about the duo’s performance that gouges into the flesh and demands contemplation.

Unifaun Records – 26th July 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Vamberator’s debut single, ‘Sleep the Giant of Sleeps’ (26th July 2024) is from the forthcoming album Age of Loneliness (Unifaun Records). And? Well, Vamberator is a new musical duo of some pedigree – namely Jem Tayle of Shelleyan Orphan and Boris Williams of The Cure.

This is far from a joyful reuniting: Williams had also contributed to Shelleyan Orphan, until the band’s demise following the death of Caroline Crawley in 2016.

Jem describes his transition from Shelleyan Orphan to Vamberator as follows: “After Caroline’s passing, I had been offered the chance to make a solo album. I had been writing on and off without a focus and not having someone to bounce off was new to me. Boris is family, and we have played together with Shelleyan Orphan live and in the studio on and off for years, so it felt very natural for us to work on this together. I am extremely fortunate to have a drummer of his calibre pounding out the rhythms on this album.”

Grief has a habit of manifesting and finding its channels via unexpected routes and channels, and – from painful personal experience – creative outlets can be incredibly beneficial, a form of therapy, even, and so there’s a clear sense in Tayle’s wanting to push through on this new project. And the first fruits are pretty tasty.

‘Sleep the Giant of Sleeps’ is a mega-hybrid of alt-rock, post-punk, and psyche. I mean it with no malice when I observe that many artists who reach a certain age lose some of their edge and start putting out kinds middle of the road rock that’s like Chris Read without the guitar breaks. There are some elements of that underpinning the form of ‘Sleep the Giant of Sleeps’; standard guitar chord progressions tied to a fairly mid-pace rhythm. But there’s much to set this apart, too, in particular a certain sense of playfulness and experimentalism. There are some unexpected twists to the percussion, some savvy instrumental switches from guitar to piano to the fore, and some spacey whizzes and whirrs. The arrangement is layered, bold, orchestral. The video is a bit nuts.

They reference Lou Reed, and he’s clearly in the mix, but this whips together a visionary sonic cocktail which is impossible to pin down. But more significant than the wide-ranging elements and dazzling sonic experience, is the fact that ‘Sleep the Giant of Sleeps’ is a top tune with hooks and soul and passion.

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