Feedbacker: Rock Music for March by JR Moores

There’s always been something slightly odd about the rock duo, as a unit. It’s not a solo act. It isn’t quite busy enough to qualify as a full band. Many eschew a bass player, leaving much to be desired at the lower ends. The naff ones are abundant, from The Black Keys through Ting Tings to Royal Blood, whereas to count the number of good acts with two members doesn’t take many more fingers than that. Perhaps it helps that Earth Tongue are produced by Ty Segall who knows a thing or three about maximum fuzz with minimal exertion. On Dungeon Vision, credit is also given to a mononymous “Herman” who contributes “additional guitar and synths”. The pair’s style can be succinctly described as stompy. It’s in the ballpark of Osees or a lesser legged King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard, complete with lyrics that could be, intentionally or subconsciously, inspired by Castlevania. They get slower and doomier every so often, as on ‘Flashlight’. ‘Body Of Water’ strips things back. ‘Symmetry Dripper’ is where Herman goes to town with his synthesisers. Gussie Larkin’s voice recalls that of Lori S. from Acid King. When not fuzzin’ throughout, they have songs that make engaging use of dynamics and brief pauses. Ezra Simons knows his way around every inch of his drumkit. Should they appoint the mysterious Herman as a fulltime member, they’d be laughing.

Stoner rockers no longer, this Warsaw quintet have progressed so far it seems that any prolonged passage of über-heaviness could be interpreted as an admission of defeat. An affront to their bold evolution. They now specialise (mostly) in intricate and dreamy material. Occasionally a riffy explosion will occur, however these days it feels as though Weedpecker are doing it spite of themselves. Such passages might be in place to placate those who’ve followed them since their 2013 unveiling. To all intents and purposes, Weedpecker fancy themselves as the modern Pink Floyd, or something similar. This trajectory is akin to the likes of Elder. There’s something about the early melody of the 11-minute ‘Fading Whispers’ that even reminded me of the sensitive softness of Seal’s ‘Kiss From A Rose’ but maybe that’s merely a sign that I’m heading for dementia. The track builds into something more cosmic, and denser, yet always very delicate. The next piece, ‘Ash’, even has a yacht rocky introduction. On this one, the phatness of the later parts is offset by dominant synth sounds, spiralling lead guitar licks and Jane’s Addiction levels of vocal echo. ‘In The Dark We Shine’ is dinner-party smooth throughout. Feasibly to win back cynics, they do rock out on much of ‘Mirrors’. It’s Siamese Dream meets Swervedriver with additional keyboards. The set ends with ‘The Last Summer Of Youth’, the most Floyd-y of the lot. Scoot to the bookies and wager their next album will be a double. 

There is a certain breed of record collector who will not be able to resist a band called Belzebong, especially when they offer song titles including ‘Hempnotized’ and ‘Reefer Mortis’. Given this Polish group’s penchant for weed-based puns, it could be a positive thing that they don’t have a vocalist. That being said, Sleep have plenty of stoner wordplay in their lyrics and they always hit a standard that’s… high. You already know what to expect. Massive riffs, and loads of them, most of them slow. Distortion thicker than the trunk of an ancient redwood. Lead solos performed by somebody who still knows how to nimbly move their fingers up and down the guitar neck to hit the right notes, even though they can no longer lift their own eyelids. Sonic rituals in the Sabbathian mode. The band members are listed as Sheepy Dude, Alky Dude, Cheesy Dude and Hexy Dude. Although there is some monotonousness in terms of the heavy textures, if not the different lumbering tempos and smaller details, there are only four songs on The End Is High so it doesn’t grow dull or outstay its welcome. If you inhale enough marijuana during its running time, you’ll be wishing it was three times the length.

Its label is calling Wave Field “the most out and out ‘rock’ record on VHF in many years.” Guitarist Drew Gardner of Elkhorn and Heavy Lidders fame is joined by Tom Malach (guitar), Andy Cush (bass), and Ryan Jewel (drums). ‘Rhizoid’ eases in its listeners by tinkering along pleasantly with subtly psychedelic effects on the strings. Following this, the motorik beat of ‘Space Ray’ announces the blast off for a fuzzy journey with no-wave-approaching-gothy-post-punk undertones. ‘Shadow Casting Grass’ is made of gentler, rustic noodling. The title track is in the vicinity of the studio jams released on Sonic Youth’s SYR1: Anagrama. ‘Mayan Bees’ has more of an Eastern feel to it, similar to the work of Rhyton. This final track seems to build over its 10-minute running spell and yet, somehow, it only really threatens to build, resulting in a piece that could be called meditative if it wasn’t quite so suspenseful. 

Finally! A band from Ireland that sounds nothing like Lankum! What’s more, it features none of the members of Lankum! You see, I remain agnostic to them despite the persuasive rhapsodising of my tQ colleagues. In fact, I only put those lines in here to see whether it would get edited out. Write like you’re trying to get fired, as Stewart Lee advises. Kilkenny’s Bad Mothers Union, on the other hand, are just my cup of Bewley’s. Sore Losers opens in magnificent fashion with a 20-minute monster based on a Lungfish-style bassline. Around this hook soars a load of arresting guitar scrawl, somewhere between Sonic Youth and shoegaze. That’s followed by a short punky item which offers raggedy fun even if it is a little inconsequential. Don’t worry, though, because ‘God’s Intercom’ is next. Here we’re in krautrock/space rock territory and it brings to mind the spirited propulsions of Oneida. The vocals are drawly and reverbed. There’s a nice earthy drum sound, too. ‘Cut In Half’ is fairly abstract, as if BMU are trying to construct a dance track with wooden things while mumbling at the same time. Another huge number, ‘Golden O’, ends proceedings. Again, it’s a bit like Kevin Shields is trying to drown out Thurston Moore (i.e. excellent). 

Zahn’s Purpur is the liveliest post rock album of the year so far. Since their rawer self-titled debut of 2021, the trio have demonstrated a Mogwai-type commitment to evolving their sound. At this stage they are flaunting a sense of Grails’ slick playfulness, and maybe even the unpretentious brilliance of Trans Am. Purpur is shiny. It’s action-packed. There are plenty of electronic textures. However, the human drums still hit hard, helping to keep everything grounded, organic and, crucially, rockin’. Due to the cinematic nature of instrumental records such as this, writers are always tempted to suggest what kind of movie it could suitably soundtrack. Let’s say an animated crossover that sees one of the friendlier Yautja from the Predator sequels team up with The Incredible Hulk to do bloody battle with Tetsuo from Akira. 

“In one thousand years from now there’ll be nothing left / And all we built and the words and songs will be long forgotten,” sings Cormac Ferris on the opening track of Planet Hunter’s second album. The song’s chorus is just as cheerful: “The end is coming / And we’re all caught in the slipstream.” Well, if you’re going to doom-monger as directly as that, you might as well do it while rattling along over big and bouncy alt-rock shapes. It’s suggested that this New Zealand quartet should be filed alongside Red Fang, Clutch, All Them Witches and Queens Of The Stone Age. That’s true if we’re thinking about the more energetic and radio-friendly end of those reference points. There is an exuberance to Soothsayer that might even push Planet Hunter towards Muse or, to be far more generous, Cave In’s short-lived major label period. On ‘You’ll Be Happy’ there is talk of obedience to our “reptilian” They Live overlords. That’s another aspect that would appeal to Matt Bellamy. Does he read tQ? Too busy doing his own research into how The Knights Templar planted the dinosaurs to mislead Stanley Kubrick, I reckon.

As he recently revealed, Maynard James Keenan is embarrassed about some of his old Tool lyrics because he was just trying to make “a dumb joke” and they “don’t hold up to scrutiny.” It makes you wonder how aware he is of his own other band, Puscifer. Their output includes the song ‘Vagina Mine’ and they’ve had some of the worst album covers known to man. You could say Keenan has matured since Puscifer released their debut LP when he was only 43 years old. The project’s Reddit defenders will single out key tracks as evidence of Puscifer’s merit. To find those on their albums, one must wade through so much lackadaisical crap it’s hardly worth the effort. Normal Isn’t is no different. ‘Thrust’, on which Keenan mumbles “Bicker bicker bicker / People getting sicker / Needle needle needle / giggle giggle titter”, has to be the least exciting opening track from any “rock royalty” cardholder in some time, despite Carina Round’s commendable stab at injecting some vocal gravitas. There follows plenty of equally feeble, electro-tinged, pseudo-goth mundanity. Keenan croons, squeaks and shouts about conspiracy theorists, echo chambers and toxic masculinity. We should be grateful, then, that his focus has shifted from booties, boobies and boners. As Mogwai’s Barry Burns recently asked his Bluesky followers, which band is music’s equivalent of the film franchise Avatar, in the respect that there is “loads of money spent on them but zero cultural impact”? Prime suspect: Puscifer. 

“Feelin’ kinda frisky / Gimme gimme gimme / Been so hard and lonely / Waitin’ for your lovin’ / Lend me one more dance, dance / Gotta gimme a chance, chance / Baby Baby baby / Honey honey honeybun / Ooh / Yeah! / Mmm! / Ow! / You gotta a spell so strong / And a smell so sweet / In the day / In the dawn / I’m lovesick in the morn / Baby, babe, you give me the blues / I’m a dog with a bone / Feelin’ so alone / Woo woo / Girl you give me so much pain / Woo woo / Wild, wild horses / Can’t get what they want, always / Burnin’ up the kitchen / Itchin’ from your witchin’ / Oh, woah / Woah, woah, woah / Is this love or lust? / Honky tonk just / Wanna get you get you get you onto my cloud / It’s all over now, now / Sugar sugar sugar (brown) / You better tell my heart / That I can’t get no black painted, jumpin’ sympathy bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuues…”