Stoner Rock: 50 Best Albums of All-Time

Review:

"After creating a classic with their second album, Blues for the Red Sun, desert metal gods Kyuss faced the unenviable task of delivering the goods once again for a new label, Elektra Records. And they almost pulled it off with 1994's stellar Welcome to Sky Valley. The album's 13 songs are divided into three "suites" which fully display the band's impressive creative range, from furious metal to psychedelic grooves, and anything in between. The first and most consistent of these suites starts with the huge guitar riff of "Gardenia" (which resembles molten lava flowing down the side of a volcano), continues into the moody space jam instrumental "Asteroid," and culminates in the strangely titled yet superbly diverse "Supa Scoopa and Mighty Scoop." Other highlights include the solid thrashing of "100 Degrees," the prog rock instrumental "Whitewater," and the rather mellow (by Kyuss standards) "Demon Cleaner." But no song exemplifies the Kyuss sound as well as the aptly titled "Odyssey," which opens suite number three and provides a veritable blueprint of the band's unique combination of ingredients. The track begins with a cryptic melody, explodes into a ferocious riff, glides into a psychedelic bridge, then returns to full-throttle for its conclusion." (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

Although I agree for the most part with the above review, this album is what I believe to be the band's pinacle performance. As I stated before that these albums are in no particular order, this is truly my favorite Stoner Rock album of all-time.

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"Fu Manchu was one of the most enduring and influential bands of the '90s stoner metal movement (along with Kyuss, Monster Magnet, and Sleep), but it wasn't until their third full-length release, In Search Of..., that the Southern California stoners finally obtained "major" label support by signing with Mammoth Records -- not that this had any effect on singer Scott Hill's indistinctive vocals, or the band's fuzzy dirge of post-Sabbath riffery with psychedelic overtones. And like most Fu Manchu albums, In Search Of... is a very inconsistent affair, with only a few cuts such as "Asphalt Risin'," "Strato-Freak," and "Seahag" really standing out of the pack. Simply put, one gets the impression that Fu Manchu doesn't try that hard, but then, not every band wants to rule the world. Thankfully, the departure of guitarist Eddie Glass and drummer Ruben Romano to form Nebula soon after this recording would provide the band with the impetus and inspiration to really start moving forward on the following year's much improved The Action Is Go." (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

Although the reviewer gave this album a favorable 4 star review, it almost comes off as him not really caring much for it. That is unfortunate because in my eyes, it is truly my number two Stoner Rock album of all-time.

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Review:

"One of the last great heavy metal/psychedelic combinations, the early '80s tour "Black & Blue" featured Black Sabbath and Blue Oyster Cult laying waste to stoned freaks nationwide. First you'd get blitzed by BOC's post-Armageddon, intellectual metal space show--"Don't Fear the Reaper", "Godzilla", and so on--and then, while everyone's brains were still reeling from too much rat w**d and cheap b**ze, Sabbath would come out and bash everyone square between the eyes with two-ton riffs. Black and blue indeed. The members of Monster Magnet no doubt took in a few of these shows as whelps and have absorbed and regurgitated everything that made that tour so great on their record D*pes to Infinity. Witness some of the heaviest riffs you'll ever hear, and be dazzled by subtle acoustic numbers and instrumental wizardry. And if that's not enough for you, they've even thrown in a certified hit in "Negasonic Teenage Warhead", equal amounts BOC's "Godzilla" and Cream's "White Room." Like Kyuss and Corrosion of Conformity, Monster Magnet has suckled at Sabbath's teat, and though they owe the Sabs their existence, they've grown up and created their own vision. This is by far the best, most fully and successfully realized Monster Magnet record and will no doubt stand as one of the classic psychedelic metal albums of all time." (Adem Tepedelen )

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"While pundits often seem eager to throw the adjective "uncompromising" at any rock musician with more than three nipple-rings, what we have here is the real deal. After haphazardly embarking on their intensely single-minded career in the late-'80s, Northern California's pioneering prophets of doom-metal took the opportunity of a '90s major-label advance to record a 63-plus-minute magnum opus to g*nja and other Valhalla-friendly political conceits that effectively cost them same promising record deal and embroiled them in enough turmoil to permanently splinter the band. Cut by nearly a dozen minutes, the track eventually surfaced in '99 to some critical acclaim as "Jerusalem." But now, sounding like a hung-over Thor awakening from a three-century bender, the original hour-plus "D*pesmoker" returns to stake its claim as the heaviest, if minimally expansive metal dirge of them all, with founder/vocalist Al Cisneros's massive bass drone and tortured growl making for a hypnotic, if harrowing, listening experience. This new edition also includes the previously unreleased, live-in-the-studio "Sonic Titan," a comparatively upbeat drone that breezes in at just under 10 minutes." (Jerry McCulley )

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Review:

"By the time they released 1991's Blind, crossover pioneers Corrosion of Conformity were pursuing a decidedly metallic direction, but this in no way compromised their punk ethic, overtly political lyrical themes, and incredible sonic aggression. The wicked melodies of "These Shrouded Temples...Remain" bookend the album, and excellent tracks like "Damned for All Time" and "Mine Are the Eyes of God" manage to be both utterly heavy and surprisingly catchy. "Dance of the Dead" and "Echoes in the Well" are about as straightforward metal as C.O.C. gets, but their politically militant roots are fully displayed on "White Noise" and "Great Purification" - both scathing attacks on racism. The gentle, meandering chords of the instrumental "Shallow Ground" offer a brief respite from the onslaught, but then lead into the album's fiercest moment, "Vote with a Bullet." Constructed on an extremely distorted riff and featuring equally fuzzy, computer-processed vocals from guitarist Pepper Keenan, the song is a sonic precedent for the countless aggro-thrash bands (Korn, Fear Factory, Limp Bizkit, etc.) which dominated the late '90s. Years ahead of its time, Blind is simply one of the most important heavy rock albums of the decade." (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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"The combination of Phil Anselmo and Pepper Keenan should be enough to cause heavy metal fans to drool, but with a full cast made up of members of Pantera, Corrosion of Conformity, Crowbar, and Eyehategod, Down is truly a supergroup, and performs as such. Make no mistake, though, the music inevitably comes back to Anselmo and Keenan. NOLA (an acronym for New Orleans, Louisiana) takes the two superstars' writing talents and distinctive sounds and focuses them in a feast of Cajun-style heavy metal. Like much of Pantera's music, NOLA is lyrically enigmatic and frequently celebrates the use of c*ntrolled substances. Glorification of c@nnabis aside, the album's true focus is inner melancholy and atonement for earlier sins. Keenan's own brand of crunching axework - the kind that typifies his work with Corrosion of Conformity - compliments Anselmo's genuinely sorrowful vocals, and the two propel the album to its logical conclusion without the flashy solos or other excesses that often accompany their separate works. The two also combine in a unique way on "Pray for the Locust," an instrumental that was written by Anselmo but consists simply of Keenan on the guitar. From the highly layered "Stone the Crow," the group's only major radio hit, to the ponderous, introspective "Bury Me in Smoke," the members of Down display their abilities to play quality rock & roll outside the comfort of their individual bands. In terms of consistency and sheer rock power, NOLA surpasses all but the very best of the featured artists' other works, and can proudly be embraced in any of the associated bands' catalogs. This is a landmark album that combines the talents of dedicated rock musicians, and should be included in any collection of heavy metal music." (David Reamer, All Music Guide)

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Review:

"As Deep Purple's Roger Glover once said, "Heavy isn't about volume, it's about attitude." And no band better illustrates this statement than England's Electric Wizard - the reputed heaviest band in the universe - whose every album has managed to push the boundaries of downtuned, grinding, monolithic doom metal to unprecedented depths. Sure, they pack plenty of volume as well, but none of it could possibly work without the band's uncompromising worship of w**d and all things gothic and malevolent. After a long hiatus (during which they were no doubt traveling the cosmos without ever leaving their parent's basements or putting down their b*ngs), Electric Wizard finally returned to action in the year 2000. The resulting dirge masterpiece, D*pethrone, delivers Walls of Sound so dense that at first they seem too big to fit into your ears. At a paltry three minutes, the opener "Vinum Sabbathi" may be the Wizards' first true candidate for an actual "single," but it really serves as a teaser for what's to come. Introduced by short spoken intros taken from B-movies à la White Zombie, extended riff-monsters like "Funeralopolis," "I, the Witchfinder," and the three-part colossus "Weird Tales" are vintage Electric Wizard. Though they never exceed a snail's pace, they somehow manage to build in intensity, from single note guitar lines to huge power chords with deliberate, maddening certainty. First-time listeners will find it easier to cope with more compact offerings like "Barbarian" and "We Hate You," but with time, they'll see the light and embrace the obscenely heavy title track, with its patented "Iron Man" oscillating riff. In short, with D*pethrone, Electric Wizard has raised the bar for doom metal achievement in the new millennium - good luck to the competition. [This edition includes bonus tracks.] " (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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Review:

"Following the conclusion of Trouble's recording deal with Metal Blade and three years of relative silence, few fans expected to hear from the Chicago band ever again. But maverick producer Rick Rubin surprisingly entered the picture in 1990, signing them to his Def American vanity label and helping them record the most consistent album of their career. As suggested by its eponymous title, the record found Trouble going back to the essence of their gloomy, Sabbath-inspired sound, yet simultaneously injecting it with fresh ideas and reinvigorated energy not heard since their 1984 debut, Psalm 9. Indeed, the Trouble LP came absolutely stacked with outstanding doom anthems in the shape of the mega-riffic "At the End of My Daze," the organ-infused "The Wolf," and the white metal staple "Heaven on My Mind." Meanwhile, the impossibly heavy and catchy "R.I.P." and the especially psychedelic "Psychotic Reaction" (a hint of things to come) vied for supremacy as the greatest heavy metal song Black Sabbath never wrote. Then again, this honor might have just as easily been bestowed upon the band's mournful redirection of first album classic "The Misery Shows (Act II)" or the majestic denouement of album closer "All is Forgiven," thanks to what is quite simply one of the greatest heavy metal riffs ever conceived. Embellished by extended guitar harmonies and solos, said riff also confirmed Bruce Franklin and Rick Wartell's reputation as the best lead guitar tag team in doom metal history. The same championship belt might likewise have been Trouble's, were it not for the unfortunate condition of heavy metal (glam rock mania!) at the time this magnum opus was released, a tragic state of affairs that sadly relegated to obscurity what, by all rights, should have been a genre landmark." (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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Review:

"Forget all that stuff you might have heard about sex-crazed groupies and luxurious L.A. mansions; the real reason most guys want to be heavymetal rock stars is because they want to make a whole lotta noise. And not just any noise, either. Heavy metal has its own particular kind of glorious thunder - a dark, droning crunch that's almost druidic in its appeal to the adolescent psyche. Black Sabbath tapped into this primal groove with "Iron Man," Led Zeppelin upped the ante with "Kashmir," and now Soundgarden pushes the envelope with Louder Than Love.

Like Danzig or the Cult, Soundgarden takes its cues from metal's new primitivism, eschewing virtuosity for the brutish efficiency of simple aggression. That's not to say these guys don't have chops - Chris Cornell has the sort of soaring, muscular voice Ian Astbury can only dream of, while guitarist Kim Thayil comes across like the Edge with an attitude - but they do seem more inclined to beat a riff into submission than strut their stuff by playing rings around it.

As a result, the songs on Louder Than Love are mean, lean and fighting fit. "Ugly Truth" kicks things off with a bludgeoning drumbeat topped off with an ominous squall of guitar, and the album builds from there, with Cornell's air-raid siren voice wailing over an assortment of monolithic guitar riffs while Matt Cameron pounds his drums into the floor.

Yet as basic as the band's musical architecture seems on the surface, there's a surprising finesse to these arrangements. "Ugly Truth," for instance, boasts a bridge that's as cannily ambitious as anything in the Led Zeppelin canon, and "Hands All Over" applies swooping bass and jazzily vigorous drumming to counterbalance the static intensity of the song's bone-simple guitar hook.

Unfortunately, Soundgarden isn't quite as consistent on the lyrical front. Although there are some interesting ideas rumbling through the likes of "Gun" and "Ugly Truth," much of what the band has to say is clichéd, confused or generally incomprehensible. (Then again, heavy metal isn't exactly a breeding ground for young philosophers.)

Besides, Louder Than Love isn't about words; it's about sound, and even when his lyrics are as dumb as rocks - as with "Big Dumb S*x," which boasts the stunningly sensitive chorus "I know what to do/I'm gonna f"ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck you!" - Cornell delivers them with such full-throated intensity that they actually sound impressive. And if that ain't the mark of a great metal album, then what is? (J.D. CONSIDINE, RollingStone.com)

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Review:

"Moving the guitars forward in the mix paid off in spades for Clutch, who continued with their familiar formula of mixing Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath on their sophomore album. Without straying at all from its roots, the band adds a little more funk to its sound à la Primus, which makes for a more consistent set of songs than last time. Not to mention that the stars shine brighter than they did last time around: "Spacegrass" alone should have become an instant classic, but following minor rotation on hard rock stations, the song - and the band with it - was delegated a cult status, compared to the likes of contemporaries Coal Chamber and Korn. " (Jeremy Ulrey, All Music Guide)

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Review:

"Born Too Late is undeniably a defining effort in the spirit of the early, now considered "classic" doom metal sound. The marriage of vocalist Scott "Wino" Weinrich, founder of Maryland's D.C. area legends the Obsessed and L.A.'s own legendary doom pioneers Saint Vitus, produced a sound and lyrical landscape that was not commercially successful in its own right, but which has inspired and continues to influence myriad popular culture figures such as the Melvins, Nirvana, L7, Fugazi's Ian McKay, Black Flag's Greg Ginn (owner of SST, Saint Vitus' label) and Henry Rollins, Monster Magnet, Kyuss, Electric Wizard, Eyehategod, Grief, Sleep, Cruevo, and a list of bands, musicians, and genres too long to list without writing a novel. Long after Black Sabbath had shifted their sound away from the bombastic, sludgy riffing of classics like Paranoid, Masters of Reality, Vol. 4, and the like, Saint Vitus and the Obsessed rose from regions that were birthplaces and breeding grounds for early-American hardcore punk. While identifying intensely with the independent and socially critical nature of those scenes, Saint Vitus's sound was deeply rooted in the gloomy ballistics of early Sabbath. Born Too Late's sludgy, ultra-slow riffs never break out into the galloping rhythms of, say, "Children of the Grave," however. This album is like Black Sabbath on Quaaludes and wearing lead suits underwater. Each chord rains down like a hammer, and each progression takes an eternity to resolve. In the early '80s, while everyone in the pop music culture was looking for the new sound, be it new wave or hardcore, Saint Vitus were decidedly retro. You don't even need more than the name of the album's title track, "Born Too Late," to get the point. But Wino drives it home anyway, with the lines "every time I'm on the street/people laugh and point at me/they talk about my length of hair/and the out of date clothes I wear." The lyrics go on to point out that while "they say [his] songs are much too slow," they also "don't know the things [he] knows." That's for sure. Before almost anyone else had even realized that rock was on its death bed, Saint Vitus were looking back on the '70s with nostalgia. Throughout, the album is what might be considered a cliched retrospective of that bygone era's heavy metal sentiments. Dragons, psychedelic dr*gs, images of war, and severe alcohol abuse dominate the landscape. The most important consideration with this album, though, is not the originality of the approach. What separates Born Too Late from nearly all heavy metal up to that point was the outright admission that the band's passion - slow, heavy music - not only lacked commercial viability, but was in fact itself a source of the ridicule and social alienation the music speaks to. The punk rock style integrity of the band's commitment to that sound and image was in direct opposition to the money and chicks attitude of L.A. glam metal of the day. While the impact Saint Vitus made with Born Too Late at the time was minimal, the legacy of that early dedication has influenced and changed the world of music. For all fans of grunge, stoner rock, and doom metal, this album is a classic." (Paul Kott, All Music Guide)

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Review:

"After three albums filled for the most part with quick song bursts and the occasional longer track, the eight-song long Bullhead found the Melvins stretching out a bit more at points, this time allowing the heavily stoned tempos plenty of time to really sprawl all over the place. There are fewer sudden shifts between fast and slow moments as well, and a lot more pure lava-flow beat-over-head feedback sludge and noise. It's not all ten mph deliberation, though - "Zodiac" shows the trio at full speed and blasting aside anything that might be so foolish as to get in its way, not to mention one unhinged Osbourne vocal lead. If grunge was achieving breakthrough status in Seattle, it was being perfected in its rawest sense on this album. Opening cut "Boris" does all this in excelsis - the band's longest recorded song at this point, nearly ten minutes long, it practically drips from the b*ngwater of eight million p*theads, with Osbourne invoking his own brand of demons over the deep crawl of the music. Osbourne here really has got the dramatic, theatrical Ozzy Osbourne attitude down, with the occasional double-tracked vocals adding to the off-kilter intensity of the performances. Crover again shows his worth on the drums - he plays things slow most of the time but, crucially, never once sloppily - while Black keeps the bass going, however relatively unheard under Osbourne's guitar attack. "It's Shoved" is the not-so-secret highlight of Bullhead, Crover's brisker drum work and Black's sharp bass playing heralding a wild lead-guitar melody and a great ensemble performance. However, efforts like "Anaconda," with its slowly uncoiling power, and the intense "If I Had an Exorcism," which gets all the more wired and wound up as it goes (Black's bass here is some of her best), are no slouches. (Ned Raggett, All Music Guide)

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"During the mid-80's, the European heavy metal scene was dominated by countless thrash, death, and black metal bands playing at breakneck speeds and screaming in a high-pitched frenzy. So when Candlemass released their debut, Epicus Doomicus Metallicus in 1986, its songs (featuring slow, lumbering riffs straight out of the Black Sabbath handbook and vocals delivered in a baritone, operatic style) offered up a stylistic curve ball of shocking proportions. After disposing of its deceptively optimistic introductory acoustic guitar, opener "Solitude" develops into a complete monster, replete with lyrics of s**cidal depression and churning with the most colossal, down-tuned guitar riff since Sabbath's "Iron Man." And that's just the beginning, as succeeding tracks "Demon's Gate," "Crystal Ball," and "Under the Oak" (later re-recorded in its definitive version for the band's fourth album Tales of Creation) trudge by with deliberate, immutable doom. Although the group's vision was startlingly well-conceived and unique for its time, bassist, songwriter and all-around group leader Leif Edling had yet to find all the right components. And despite offering the strongest, most consistent songwriting of the band's career, Epicus Doomicus Metallicus was let down by vocalist Johan Lanquist, whose performance failed to deliver with the power and command of his immediate successor Messiah Marcolin. A pillar of classic '80s metal nonetheless, this album will satisfy all doomsters." ( Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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Review:

"D*pesick may be Eyehategod's most painful, strung-out album, and considering this band's standards in that department, that is really saying something. This tormented feeling is evident from the jarring screams that open the album to the broken bottle noises that punctuate the closer, "Anxiety Hangover." "Ruptured Heart Theory" is the one track that shows the band at its most distraught, with its feedback-spewing guitars, crashing cymbals, anguished vocals, and absolutely crawling tempo. The rest of the album is actually somewhat diverse, at least musically if not in terms of mood. "Dixie Whiskey" has a monstrous main riff that sounds like a swamp-bred Black Sabbath; "Dogs Holy Life" (sic) and the tricky, Melvins-like "Non Conductive Negative Reasoning" both feature inventive, ear-grabbing guitar parts before ending abruptly; and "Peace Thru War (Thru Peace and War)" and "Lack of All Most Everything" alternate up-tempo hardcore punk sections with slowed-down grooves to excellent effect. Produced by Billy Anderson - who has also turned the knobs for the Melvins, Sleep, and Neurosis - D*pesick is denser and heavier than Eyehategod's previous records, with the drums more upfront in the mix and the guitars sounding especially thick. The album comes close to crumpling under its own weight at several points, but just as that seems to happen, guitarists Jimmy Bower and Brian Patton manage to pull out that one more massive doom riff that keeps things afloat. D*pesick is an exhausting, challenging listen, but it is also very arguably Eyehategod's most musically accomplished and well-rounded statement." ( William York, All Music Guide)

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Review:

"Cathedral's second full-length album, The Ethereal Mirror, finds the group experimenting a bit with new sounds on their path to discovering the patented sound they would polish on succeeding releases. Hints of their lumbering doom sound from Forest of Equilibrium characterize songs such as "Phantasmagoria," but for the most part Cathedral picks up the pace and instills a welcome sense of groove into their monolithic guitar riffs. Two songs from the album in particular stand out due to their up-beat tempos: the anthemic opener, "Ride," and the metal-disco of "Midnight Mountain." These two songs aren't up-tempo in the sense of death metal or grindcore, but they actually owe a lot to late '60s and early '70s hard rock anthems such as Steppenwolf's "Born to Be Wild" and Black Sabbath's "Supernaut." Singer/lyricist Lee Dorrian's background as a member of the U.K.'s grindcore movement in the late '80s and the ultra-heavy guitar tones of the group elevates songs such as "Ride" above generic proto-heavy metal recycling. Dorrian's voice sounds unlike traditional rock vocalists as he tries his best to sing despite the grave darkness remaining from his past as a growling madman in Napalm Death. Furthermore, his lyrics feature more fairytale-inspired nightmarish qualities than Ozzy Osbourne ever came close to writing. But for as important as Dorrian is to Cathedral as their undeniable leader, the epic guitar riff-laden soundscapes of Garry Jennings and Adam Lehan drive these songs and set perfectly gloomy moods for Dorrian's black magic poetry." (Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide)

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Review:

"With Josh Homme's guitar tuned down two whole steps to C, and plugged into a bass amp for maximum distortion, stoner metal pioneers Kyuss achieve a major milestone in heavy music with their second album, 1992's Blues for the Red Sun. Producer Chris Goss masterfully captures the band's unique heavy/light formula, which becomes apparent as soon as the gentle but sinister intro melody gives way to the chugging main riff in the opener, "Thumb." This segues immediately into the galloping "Green Machine," which pummels forward inexorably and even features that rarest rock & roll moment: a bass solo. "Thong Song" alternates rumbling guitar explosions with almost complete silence, and "Mondo Generator" plays like an extended acid trip. The slow build of the epic "Freedom Run" and the driving "Allen's Wrench" are also highlights, and though the album is heavy on instrumentals, these actually provide a seamless transition from song to song." (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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"The cover art for Atomic Ritual suggests Nebula's quest for the melding of inner and outer space - or something equally hazy and vaguely profound conjured up amidst all the b*ng resin and empty, crumpled Cheetos bags. Of course, Nebula treads heavily within the realm of stoner rock - in other words (and setting aside any ridiculous categorizations), this hard-working power trio sounds like it has been hanging out in the garage since 1973, blissfully unaware of the changing world outside. Which is definitely to its benefit because this, the band's third full-length, boasts consistently entertaining songwriting and the production hand of desert-rock hero Chris Goss, who captures Nebula's sound while simultaneously enhancing it. He carefully and brilliantly melds warm, '70s fuzz tones with the grit and fury necessitated by gifted guitarist Eddie Glass' raucous, overdriven Stooges riffs. Hence the up-tempo thunder-and-rumble of "So It Goes"; the garage punk freakouts of "More" and the title track; the wavering space echo of "The Beast" and "Strange Human"; the flanged acoustic guitar and lazy Mellotron warbles of "Paradise Engineer"; and the hook-ridden, coulda-been-AM-radio-hits "The Way to Venus" and "Carpe Diem." Notably, there's very little filler and plenty of hooks to be found on Atomic Ritual, and the group manages to somehow work its meandering sonic indulgences - hyperactive drumming, phaser-pedal whooshes and swooshes, guitar solos - into arrangements that never top the five-minute mark. Sure, Nebula wears its myriad of influences on its dusty, tattered sleeve - early Monster Magnet, Mudhoney, the MC5, Black Sabbath, Hawkwind, Blue Cheer - but bottom line, Atomic Ritual is a thoroughly enjoyable listen and a surprisingly focused piece of work considering the band's penchant for psychotropic space rock." (John Serba,All Music Guide)

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"After a decade of metal where speed and fury were emphasized, Crowbar stepped into the '90s with a sound directly reacting to those ideas. Equally influenced by the robotic approach of Helmet, the razor sharp riffing of Exhorder, and the brutally slow pacing of Melvins, Obedience Thru Suffering shows a band who is not afraid to stand out with a bizarre mix of influences. The production is the roughest part of the album, robbing the riffs of their punch, bringing the bass too high into the mix, and attempting to pass the band off as a Tad-esque grunge group. But the songwriting overcomes many of the weaker moments, as tracks like "Subversion" unveil a warped take on the Sabbath sound that would later gain the nickname sludge metal. The incredible roar of Kirk Windstein doesn't hurt matters any, as his brutal vocals are one of the key elements to the record. They would follow this up with a more impressive effort and continue a successful career into the decade, but this is where the group introduced the first true recording of the Louisiana sound. Fans will want to hunt this down, and any follower of Louisiana metal would do themselves a favor by giving this a listen - it is one of the key releases in the formation of that scene." (Bradley Torreano, All Music Guide)

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Review:

"Now here's a band whose name fits -- heavenly stoner doom metal that reaches realms of Sabbath-y paradise, thus far untouched by the band's Western world counterparts. You see, Eternal Elysium hails from Japan, not a country most people view as synonymous with obese, oppressive guitar riffing, churning leads that reek of dirty blues, or stinging, emotive, wailing vocals. Spiritualized D is simply a masterpiece of doom; why it has gotten little attention just baffles the mind. Every single track is traditional, in your face, '70s doom, dripping with oblique Sabbath, St. Vitus, Trouble, and Fu Manchu attributes. Take Sabbath's Master of Reality, Penance's Parallel Corners, Cathedral's Soul Sacrifice, Fu Manchu's In Search Of..., and any early Trouble release, fuse them together with Electric Wizard, and serve blisteringly hot. Most bands lack Elysium's musical audacity, unadulterated heaviness, and ability to capture true rock spirit, as they are usually too busy trying to look or sound cool -- Electric Wizard being the only worthy exception. This is a serious musical purging, folks. Even genre leaders like Cathedral need to take a few pointers from the dynamic sonic wall built on the Paranoid-like blues of "Trick or Steal" or the sluggish charm of "Floating Downer." The vocals are faint and familiar on opener "W.T.G.B," but somehow impossible to place, yet they are unimportant in the sonic war zone faced on Spiritualized D. The punkish "Stone Wedge" could have been snatched off an old Fu Manchu or C.O.C. record, while "Easygoin'" stirs up memories of "Fairies Wear Boots," minus Ozzy, of course. Iron Maiden's classic "Innocent Exile" is fuzzed-up and tuned down in a brave, surprisingly competent rendition on the album.

Yet, it is the closing pair of instrumentals that push the musical boundaries of the doom genre to new heights. First is a bastard child of England's two prominent '90s doom bands, "Faithful '99," which sounds like Cathedral performing a punishing rocker co-penned by My Dying Bride circa Turn Loose the Swans or Angel and the Dark River. It's virtually unexplainable to deprived ears, as is the haunting, unnamed final track. A quiet, 14-minute piece of traditional Japanese composing, the song recalls the nation's -- and possibly the world's, were it not for his unfortunate obscurity -- greatest composer, Toru Takemitsu. Takemitsu gained recognition in the '60s, '70s, and '80s as an abstract film composer, who scored for the likes of Akira Kurosawa and several others famous filmmakers. Combining Western classical music with traditional Japanese flutes, percussion instruments, and other strange items, he created an ambient, eerie soundscape, thus far unmatched in classical recording's history (check him out if you are looking for dark classical music). This final hidden track is a brilliant tribute to a true genius of 20th century music, showing a mature, vulnerable, and musically introspective side to the band, which was kept hidden throughout the course of the first nine songs. What a breathtakingly beautiful end to an amazingly punishing masterpiece of an album." ( Jason Hundey, All Music Guide)

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Review:

"Pretenders to the stoner rock throne, Lowrider was hailed by many as the new Kyuss, and indeed they sound remarkably similar to the original masters of '90s retro-metal. Too similar, unfortunately; for despite their very impressive and unusually focused songwriting (a rarity in this genre; why do you think they call it stoner rock?), Lowrider seems to owe an insurmountable debt to their biggest influence. Excellent tracks like "Flat Earth," "Dust Settlin'," and "Anchor" are simply rife with the auditory signposts (crushing riffs, spacy interludes, an understanding for heavy/light dynamics) which point to Kyuss, making it almost impossible to award them the respect they deserve. The only notable exception is the slow-grooving "Riding Shotgun," which sounds just like Fu Manchu instead. They just can't win. But when placed in a historical vacuum, thunderous riff-rides like "Caravan" and "Saguaro" cannot be denied, and quite honestly leave a much more lasting impression than most anything issued by the likes of Nebula and even Fu Manchu. Therefore, serious fans of stoner rock are encouraged to put aside their prejudice and give Lowrider a chance." (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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"Instead of trying to recreate the sound of his former band Kyuss, Josh Homme took a new approach to music. He crafted tight hard rock songs that were heavy on melody and light on vocals. While there is still a lot of fuzz coming from the amplifiers, the vocals are softly interwoven among the chords. There's no screaming or rock & roll antics, and the group takes an almost lo-fi attitude to heavy metal - an interesting combination that produced instant radio gems like "Regular John," the extreme ranges on "Avon," and the smoky, blues-influenced "Walkin' on the Sidewalks." Queens of the Stone Age are creating a new blend of heavy metal that makes it acceptable to produce creative music that doesn't rely on testosterone as the driving force. " (David Thomas, All Music Guide)

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"Typically slow and suffocating, Zoroaster is a fine example Acid King's blacker-than-Sabbath doom. After working the West Coast stoner rock underground and releasing their debut EP, Lori S. and her band dropped this, their first full-length disc on Sympathy for the Record Industry in 1995. While Zoroaster is a fine listen, Acid King were still developing their brand of sludgy excess, and the tongue-in-cheek satanic grind might lack some their later work's commitment to the almighty riff. Singer/guitarist Lori S. gives fine performances throughout, but some comparatively traditional arrangements and faster tempos give an undesired luminescence to this disc that the band surpasses with the complete darkness featured on later works. Standout tracks like "Evil Satan" have enough low-down, barely decipherable, devil-riffing to make Ozzy blush, revealing a deep musical connection with all things unholy. New listeners might be advised to pick up later efforts that display the group in complete command of their form, but Acid King enthusiasts will instantly get it, and delight in Zoroaster's primitive conceptual guts. " (Vincent Jeffries, All Music Guide)

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"After fronting Californian doom gods Saint Vitus throughout their most fertile career phase, in the second half of the 1980s, lead vocalist Scott "Wino" Weinrich decided to throw in his towel, dust off his long-in-disuse guitar playing talents, and resurrect his original retro-metal power trio, the Obsessed. Unfortunately, the band's first eponymous album from 1990 (there had been an EP - the legendary Sodden Jackal - way back in 1983) was patched together from ancient recordings and contained disappointingly few outstanding songs to recommend it, and it wasn't until the following year's sophomore Lunar Womb that Wino (here also acting as producer) really gave some cause for fans to celebrate his departure from Vitus. Backed by an all-new rhythm section featuring bassist/co-producer Scott Reader (future Kyuss, Unida, etc.) and drummer Greg Rogers, Wino seemed to find his songwriting legs again with instantly memorable numbers like "Brother Blue Steel," "Bardo," and "Back to Zero," even as the years of rust visibly fell away from his sharp and dynamic guitar work (watch for prime solo breaks in "Kachina" and "No Mas"). Elsewhere, "Hiding Mask," "Jaded," and "Endless Circles" are all superlative samples of bite-sized doom - a Wino specialty (most of his contemporaries being prone to epic waffling) that is abandoned only at some risk by the still quite successful six-minute title track. But then, the appearance of a sub-two-minute hardcore blast in "No Blame" (another trademark of most every Wino album, and revealing of his Washington, D.C., roots) tilts the scales in the other direction, and helps make Lunar Womb about as balanced an album as the Obsessed ever recorded. So much so that it led to their signing by major label Columbia before next effort The Church Within, which, as it turned out, fell well short of Lunar Womb's lofty standards. [Long out of print in its original form, Lunar Womb was finally reissued by Meteor City Records in 2006, enhanced with brand-new artwork and informative liner notes.] " (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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"Not that it's unique, yet even with half the band changed from the last time around, the twin-riff action that kicks off "Evil Eye," and The Action Is Go! as a whole, sounds like nobody else but Fu Manchu, somehow. Punk energy, classic rock drive, psychedelic crunch, and heavy-ass grind all at once - really, is anything more needed? From there the new lineup proceeds to kick ass and take names in its own way - music to shake one's very long hair to while cranking it up and driving around. Hill's strength as a vocalist has long been that he doesn't sound like a deep, bellowing yahoo, but that nutty kid down the block who knows how to party anyway. The Action Is Go! lets him demonstrate that in spades, not to mention his guitar abilities as well as Balch's lead soloing. He and Bjork make perfect recruits for Fu Manchu - the one pours out the heavy, never dull riffing, the other knows how to lay down some grooves and slam it out when needed in equal measure. Check out the extended zone-outs on "Burning Road" and "Trackside Hoax" to see how both can play it calm when needed for totally cranking up. Another smart touch was getting J. Yuenger, ex-White Zombie guitarist, as producer - he balances a touch more clarity in the mix with full-bodied charge, not to mention playing a variety of additional keyboards and goodies. Unsubtle hints and homages to the '70s puree of influences crop up throughout - Bjork's funky breaks on "Urethane" will have many humming War's "Lowrider" to themselves, and for good reason. All this, a cover of SSD's hardcore classic "Nothing Done," and a great Glen E. Friedman skateboard photo from 1977 on the front - sounds like Southern California from here." (Ned Raggett, All Music Guide)

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"Few recording artists aspire to the stylistic purity of Karma to Burn, and nowhere is this fact better demonstrated than on the band's 2001 Spitfire release Almost Heathen. Even the title reinforces the near-decadence, and the strange but necessary elusiveness of artistic completeness. To say that Almost Heathen "rocks" would actually be a disservice to disc. It is more than a great record. It is form as function, the combination of craft and content, meditative, aloof, and sublime, if only for its singularity. Each of the ten non-sequentially numbered tracks do more than rock; they turn and roll, twist and slide, rattle and hum like large metal life forms, first rolling over desolate landscapes on four wheels, then standing upright, growing hair and pounding the rocky soil with the sun-bleached bones of Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, Sleep, and Kyuss. Picking highlights is impossible, as each "song" acts more like a minutely textured tile in an all-black mosaic, relying heavily on the listener's reflection, leaving the assignment of meaning to individual imagination. Stoner/doom fans and everyone else who appreciates heavy music will all get a thrill from Almost Heathen, a significant hard rock accomplishment." (Jason Anderson, All Music Guide)

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"Though the hard rocking movement which has been baptized as stoner rock has been growing exponentially for many years now, only a few bands such as Monster Magnet and Kyuss have achieved major label distribution or any mainstream success. Officially, the Atomic Bitchwax is only a side project, but their self-titled debut is very impressive, offering adventurous extended jams ("The Formula") as well as frenetic blasts of energy ("Hey Alright"). Guitarist Ed Mundell might be a team player at his day job with Monster Magnet but he takes over here, displaying great versatility and chops - especially on a manic rendition of his idol Tommy Bolin's "Crazed Fandango". " (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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"After raising a few eyebrows via a competent debut album filled with budding promise, Acrimony proceeded to fashion one of the all-time classic stoner rock albums ever in 1996's mind-expanding and dimension-bending Tumuli Shroomaroom. Everything one could ask for from the genre's formative mid-'90s birth ritual - sludgy classic rock grooves, corrosive acid/psych rock trips, epic space rock excursions, and pounding metallic aggression - can be found here, allotted across nine songs of staggering creative breadth. So while lysergic yet relatively concise travelogues such as "Vy," "Find the Path," and "The Bud Song" bang out pointed, bruising riffs amid occasional bubbling sound effects, the sublimely stark "Turn the Page" stuns listeners with its delicate, interweaving acoustic guitars, and then Earth-targeting asteroids like "Hymns to the Stone," "Heavy Feather," and "Firedance" simply jam along for ten-plus minutes each, as they roar across the atmosphere. But wait, it gets better...the anthemic "Million Year Summer" provides an early album pinnacle by condensing all of Acrimony's (and, indeed, the entire genre's) soaring imagination and earth-shattering power into four minutes of pure stoner rock brilliance. And the "best song title" award (perhaps even the "best song" award, period) undoubtedly goes to the positively thunderous, hilariously emphatic "Motherslug (The Mother of All Slugs)" - need more be said? If anything still does need saying, it is that, for all its broad musical strokes and longwinded compositions, Tumuli Shroomaroom makes for remarkably immediate listening, unveiling its otherworldly glories to all those who dare enter the mushroom." ( Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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"The metal album for people who hate metal albums. A glorious and unapologetic celebration of pure indulgence, Spine of God is the ultimate stoner goof, a brilliant satire of headbanger culture so pitch perfect that it's almost tempting to take it at face value. Bearing the warning "It's a satanic dr*g thing...you wouldn't understand," the record is a complete mind-f*ck - the production is positively viscous, a hallucinatory sludge of echo-drenched vocals, bone-rattling drums, and reverbed guitars which seem to stretch on into infinity; frontman Dave Wyndorf is like a shamanic idiot savant floating in a sea of b*ngwater, growling proclamations like, "If Satan lived in heaven, he'd be me" in the midst of deadpan fantasy freakouts which name-check every teenage metalhead staple, from Led Zep to Playboy to whippets. (There's even a toweringly psychedelic ode to everyone's favorite room deodorizer, "Ozium.") Monster Magnet's genius is that their music speaks directly to the audience it's poking fun at - Spine of God's sheer sonic intensity is brain-warping stuff even without chemical additives, and its themes of sex, dr*gs, and evil are so hilariously over the top that it's impossible not to be charmed by the absolute mindlessness of it all. No matter what, proof positive that the road of excess leads anywhere but the palace of wisdom." (Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide)

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"On first listen to Boris' Pink (domestically issued on Southern Lord), longtime fans of the Japanese heavy metal trio would be pressed to say that they crafted it for American audiences. This is significant to be sure. On the opening track, "Farewell," one can hear so many un-Boris-like traits - a bit of Ride and My Bloody Valentine here, a bit of Isis (who were influenced by Boris!) there, a trace of Sigur Rós, Nadja, and Jesu, too - that one wonders if this is a send-up spoof that's proof that they can do it better. Even if that's so, it's only a part of this glorious slab of din and rock-is-power's puzzle. Takeshi (bass, vocals), Wata (guitar), and Atsuo (drums, vocals), have not followed in the footsteps of their younger countrymen Mono in crafting dramatics and dynamics, as evidenced by the title track which follows. If anything, this is raucous, riffing speed metal married to the garage rock trash aesthetic of Guitar Wolf. Here is where Atsuo's rim shots match in triple-time the low-string, down-tuned, freakzoid riffing of Wata's and the pure squalling throb of Takeshi's bass wail. Fuzzed out, ripped and torn and shredded riffs and propeller kit work take Boris to an entirely new level of "heavy." The rootsy metallic thrash of the band outdoes anything they've done before - "Woman on the Screen" sounds like Iggy Pop fronting the MC5 of Kick Out the Jams in the Sunn 0))) era - all in two-minutes-and-thirty-eight seconds. Speaking of Sunn 0))), "Blackout," a crawling, plodding, menacing scree of distorted bass and bluesy high-string electric guitar, is a track reminiscent of their earlier records, like Absolutego from 1996 - and may have influenced their American counterparts. "Pseudo-Bread" is in-the-red in everything: distortion, speed, high-rocktane metal. The 18-plus-minute "Just Abandoned My-Self" employs everything used in the album to the moment. Beginning as a pure thrash metal burner, it begins its exploration of texture, noise, and sonic murder at a slower tempo in six-and-a-half minutes. It's like Acid Mothers Temple only more focused, and slower to evolve. Wata's guitar playing feels incidental to Takeshi's propulsive bass crunch and drone, which becomes pure controlled noise abstraction at about 122 minutes, and takes it out until only the sound of microtonal feedback remains, blasting everything into silence. Pink is easily the most cohesive, adventurous, and straight-ahead rocking recording of their 12-year career. If indeed the set was consciously made with Americanski audiences in mind, good; then more power to them. Boris are the kings who have set the metal bar very high on Pink. It's an album to be reckoned with." (Thom Jurek, All Music Guide)

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"Blue Cathedral, the third outing from Santa Cruz's Comets On Fire, is the culmination of five years of sonically overdriven rock & roll research. Here, the original quartet - Ethan Miller, guitar and vocals; Noel Harmonson, echoplex and analog keyboards; Ben Flashman, bass; Utrillo Kushner, drums - is augmented by new member and second guitarist Ben Chasny (aka Six Organs of Admittance) and the intermittent saxophone playing of guest Tim Daly (at whose studio this album was recorded). Chasny guested on the sprawling psychedelic freakout that was 2001's Field Recordings from the Sun. One of the most captivating things about this 2004 disc is how it weds the band's garagey MC5 meets Hawkwind attack with a more textural, spacious approach that includes keyboards up front much of the time - as in organs and pianos adding some Ummagumma-Atom Heart Mother-ish Pink Floyd sounds to the cauldron. Punters shouldn't fear that the heaviness is gone, however. Far from it. One listen to "The Bee and the Cracking Egg" or "Whiskey River" should dispel those notions immediately. The Rob Tyner strangles Robert Calvert tactics that signify Miller's vocal approach are still squalling over the top of earsplitting guitar riffs - twice as heavy as before. Harmonson's echoplex sends everything into the third dimension, and the rhythm section is so solid, so forward-driven, that it could hold its own with Cream's. "The Antlers of the Midnight Sun" is one of those powerful surging tracks that leaves the listener breathless and energized afterwards. The dueling off-the-rails guitars that push everything in the mix far into the red, the noisy adrenaline boost of that echoplex writhing over the top of the everything but the vocal, and the unwound bass and drums make this one of the great events of the new psychedelia. The percussion wound through the acoustic and electric guitars on "Wild Whiskey" is positively strange and beautifully, humidly seductive. But the closer, "Blue Tomb," walks the fine slash of a stiletto edge of tripped-out psych balladry and bone-cracking, plodding, über d*pe ROCK, with the added dimension of keyboards and feedback propelling it into the stratosphere. It may have taken Comets On Fire three albums to pull all the parts together - something that was very common with acts that developed over time in the 1960s and '70s but is almost unheard of today - but with Blue Cathedral, they've realized that there are no boundaries and no limits. This album just may signal the beginning of an exciting new era in rock music." (Thom Jurek, All Music Guide)

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"Jug Fulla Sun, Spirit Caravan's debut, follows a sonic continuum that began in the late '70s when Scott "Wino" Weinrich emerged from the outskirts of Washington, D.C., with the Obsessed, his stripped-down hybrid of biker rock and metal. That outfit made tremendous strides in bridging the gap between the long-haired metal contingent and the still developing, though already rabid, D.C. hardcore scene. Jug Fulla Sun shows Wino augmenting his trademark brand of doom-laden guitar work and slow-fuse vocal ferocity with greater lyrical depth and overall textural breadth. The songs are rich, refined, articulate, and created by a lifer, a true veteran of the hard music scene. Wino has obviously gone to great lengths here to subordinate his outlaw vision to a more expansive, comprehensive view of mankind, and of greater truths. The somewhat nebulous scope of his lyrics is enhanced by Lungfish vocalist/tattoo artist Dan Higgs' cryptic cover painting. An excellent album." (Patrick Kennedy, All Music Guide)

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"Oceanic is the next logical step for Isis after the ugly, grandiose Celestial, the Aaron Turner-led outfit's second full-length looking simultaneously inward and outward, reaching into the nether regions of outer space while still keeping its feet firmly earthbound. Yes, it's an ambitious record, one that isn't immediately consumed and digested - rather, it consumes and digests the listener with grand and hypnotic waves of sound. Songs blur together as aggressive, post-hardcore guitar riffery trades with lengthy, meditative bouts of electronic exploration, a technique that would result in plodding, pretentious mush in less capable hands. Instead, Oceanic successfully mirrors the dense, unimaginable power of its namesake, combining the minimalist metallic art of Godflesh with the bipolar mood swings and Black Sabbath muscle of West Coast brethren Neurosis. Turner's deathcore growl-shouts serve to puncture the instrumental tension that balloons slowly and painstakingly inflates throughout the album's 63 minutes, with ex-Dirt Merchants singer Maria Christopher occasionally drifting hazily into the arrangements. "Weight," at nearly 11 minutes, doesn't necessarily move as much as it evolves toward its goal, starting with lazy, but purposeful, melodic whale songs before logically concluding with Christopher's repetitive dub vocal and a droning organ suggesting spiritual rebirth. Only Isis could get away with writing hardcore hymns about the inevitability of elemental forces and pull it off with such conviction and attention to detail. The album may initially seem to exist in hazy head space, but clarity comes with further submergence, assuming you're willing to lay back and float, letting the water take you into both conscious and subconscious realms. Oceanic is a masterfully complex symphony of majestic noise and melody, an all-consuming trip into the earth and mind that defies genre and, often, description - simply put, a triumph." (John Serba, All Music Guide)

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"New Jersey stoners Solarized are quite impressive on their 1999 debut, Neanderthal Speedway. The band's sound owes a lot to early Monster Magnet (most notably on "Psyclone Tread," "Black Light Swill," and "February Sixth"), and the album actually features guest appearances by a few Magnet members on "Gravity Well" and the instrumental "Cloud King." In a genre rarely known for its great vocalists, singer Jim Hogan is certainly the band's weak link, but his excellent songwriting on "Shifter" and "Fire Breather" more than makes up for this. Other highlights include "Aftermath" (with its cool midsection) and the pounding "Nebula Mask." (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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"A new style of metal rose in the early 21st century; one that was light on the vocals and heavy on the instrumentals. But it certainly wasn't your dad's familiar metal instrumental - prog-like overindulgence gave way to sounds alternating between dreamy soundscapes and crushing riffs - as evidenced by groups like Pelican. On the group's second full-length for Hydra Head, 2005's The Fire in Our Throats Will Beckon the Thaw, Pelican introduce a new texture to its sonic palette: acoustic guitars. But those expecting a full-on flamenco guitar concerto will have to look elsewhere, as they're used sparingly. The phrase "the type of album you have to listen to all the way through" seems custom-made for the moody and atmospheric Fire, as it really is a sort of aural roller coaster. With the same stylistic thread running throughout many of the album's seven tracks, individual standouts are hard to pinpoint, but if push came to shove, you can't go wrong with the epic album opener, "Last Day of Winter." (Greg Prato, All Music Guide)

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"When Mastodon first reared its bucktoothed head in 2001 with the Lifesblood EP, the scriveners of metal took note: here was something promising. With 2002's Remission, the promise was kept; it was a debut that puzzled and excited listeners with an amalgam of styles: hardcore punk's intensity and angular chops; death metal's squealing, complex guitars; a heaviness usually the province of sludge and doom metal; and drumming that risked its integrity and ventured into the territory of wank by courting progressive rock and jazz. (Has anyone other than Magma's Christian Vander dared to marry percussion this complex to metal this extreme?) Other bands have flirted with this territory, most notably Dillinger Escape Plan, but their attack always had one foot firmly planted in punk's messy metalcore backyard. Mastodon, however, are leveraging with all hooves staked in the murky underworld swamp of extreme metal.

We are now out of Remission and into 2004's highly anticipated follow-up, Leviathan, which again puzzles and will surely alienate one old fan for every two new admirers it gathers in its net. The naysayers will note that too many concessions were made on Leviathan in order to gain a wider audience, that the production is too polished and the vocals too melodic, and they are right. On Remission there was a claustrophobic paranoia, a suffocating heaviness like an elephant's heel pressing on someone's chest; its vocals were the raw hardcore screams of an anarchist drill sergeant. Leviathan digs out of the boot camp stampede and seeks out even heavier environs, going where few bands have gone before, straight down into the ocean. However, the studio polish of producer Matt Bayles that will be agonized by underground purists turns out to be just surface glare. Lurking beneath is an expansiveness more massive than anything found on the shores. The sound on Leviathan seems bottomless and infinite in the best possible way: it's not a dip in the pool; it's a headlong cliff dive into deep waters.

There are remarkable no-they-didn't, yes-they-did changes littering Leviathan like chum in shark territory. "Megalodon" moves from angular post-hardcore to chugging boogie thrash with deceptive ease, turning from one to the other with a Southern rawk guitar lick sure to have Duane Allman raise a bony hand in deathly devil-horned approval. It's not just that the sound is now "oceanic," either; metal has always had a tendency to rehash the same dark themes and few bands have the wherewithal to attempt to broaden that vision. Leviathan may not be an out and out concept album, but it's awfully close and thank god they didn't choose anything as cheesy as a blind kid playing pinball. Instead, Mastodon's chosen guide is Moby Dick, and a good portion of the lyrical themes on songs like "Blood and Thunder," "I Am Ahab," "Aqua Dementia," and "Seabeast" are based on Herman Melville's dystopian waters. It's a good fit with the music, too. Filtered through Melville's spyglass, the watery tales and creatures of Leviathan are even more paranoid and intense than the more terrestrial Remission. Those who choose to follow Mastodon into the sea will surely agree." (Wade Kergan, All Music Guide)

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"A heavily demented record layered with monstrous riffs and relentless solos, Solace's 13 sounds as stomach-turning and power hungry as vintage Sabbath. And like early Black Sabbath, there's something earthy and real about Solace - when the harmonica comes in on "Loving Sickness/Burning Fuel," for example, the out-in-the-woods stoner undercurrents rise to the surface. 13 is filled with horror movie gloom ("Once Around the Sun [Deep Through Time]") and a medieval, metal vibe (Pentagram's "Forever My Queen"), but mostly Solace just all-out rocks - like Queens of the Stone Age's East Coast cousins, like the wicked heirs to Soundgarden's throne, like the band that Audioslave wishes it was. With guest guitar and vocals from Wino (Saint Vitus, Obsessed, Spirit Caravan) on the grooving "Common Cause" and even a grinding, spaced-out ambient track ("Theme..."), 13 is a textured, fully realized record that thoroughly explores the dark, dank, and propulsive side of rock & roll." (Charles Spano, All Music Guide)

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"Coming to grips with the Sword's unlikely genesis in the alternative music Mecca of Austin, TX, leads one to wonder whether heavy metal has finally become hip again. Depending on your generation, nothing will seem as simultaneously preposterous (Gen-X'ers who came of age during pop-metal's heyday and don't recognize it as an unrepresentative anomaly) or obvious (everyone else) when discussing a genre that's spent the bulk of its 35-year history on the absolute fringe of rock culture. If that isn't "alternative," well, what is? In any case, glorifying heavy metal's prototypical qualities is exactly what the Sword is all about, and their 2006 debut, Age of Winters, sees them joining California's High on Fire, Sweden's Witchcraft, and Australia's Wolfmother (to name but a few) at the forefront of what's gradually become known in the mid-'00s as the "heritage" or "retro-metal" movement. No, not stoner rock - that's sooo ten years earlier! The only thing the Sword and their ilk have in common with most '90s stoner rockers is recognizing that all heavy metal empires are sprung from the Black Sabbath cornerstone, and the token signs can be readily heard in these songs' ominous doom chords (just listen to opener "Celestial Crown" and "Lament for the Aurochs"), pummeling, down-picked staccato riff-runs ("Barael's Blade," "Ebethron"), lyrics about fantasy and legend ("Freya," "The Horned Goddess," etc.), and, finally, those borderline-inadequate, zombie vocals first made acceptable by Ozzy himself. The Sword's singer, JD Cronise, is certainly guilty of the latter, but then that only helps to focus one's attention upon the album's main attraction: its megalithic guitar work. For the record, the Sword spins the evolutionary clock as far forward as '80s thrash, on occasion, resulting in colossal, galloping onslaughts such as "Winter's Wolves" (complete with howling wolves, naturally) and "Iron Swan" (prefaced by delicate melodies of a medieval feel). Yes, you'll probably have to be a certified, stainless steel metalhead to really appreciate the skyscraping riff constructions of "March of the Lor" (an instrumental in eight movements!), but the vast majority of what's on-hand proves remarkably well-balanced and almost suspiciously immediate to the ears. As such, Age of Winters provides neophyte (errr - alternative?) listeners with as good an entryway as any into the "retro-metal" universe, while also managing to sound refreshing even to calloused heavy metal ears - this is no small achievement." (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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"Unida's debut album Coping with the Urban Coyote marks a sharp musical turn for singer/songwriter/guitarist John Garcia, toward straight-ahead hard rock and away from his artier work in Kyuss and Slo Burn. Songs like "Thorn" and "Blackwoman" are loud, propulsive rock excursions, featuring Garcia's emotive, classic rock singing, and only the relatively gentle finale "You Wish" sees Unida vary from the tried-and-true hard rock formula." (Heather Phares, All Music Guide)

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"Opening with the repeated audio sample "welcome to violence" over a wash of rumbling white noise, occasional bass notes, and gunshot snare hits, Sore is perhaps one of the most vicious, violent albums ever created, and certainly not in a posturing sense - the kind of false bravado adopted by hardcore and rap/metal crossover bands - but in the purest, most undiluted manner. Buzzov-en lived it like they played it: with absolute, careless abandon, violence, hardcore heroin use, theft - you name it. Certainly not pretty or laudable in any sense. However, the band, particularly founder Kirk, was able to harness this negativity into one of the most potent vessels of hatred and rage since Black Flag in the early 1980s. Recorded and mixed powerfully and percussively by Billy Anderson, Sore captures the mammoth drumming abilities of Ash Lee, Kirk's exceptionally painful pick-slides down his Les Paul, and the punishing, hardcore brutality of this trio at their peak. Unfortunately, it was precisely the elements the band sang about that took them down. Heroin and years of physical abuse took their toll on the original incarnation of Buzzov-en, and Kirk was left holding the bag - quite literally - as the band imploded. Over the next few years, he would reassemble Buzzov-en numerous times with different lineups, some to great effect, some to quite the opposite, however, none with the same kind of viciousness as this one." (Patrick Kennedy, All Music Guide)

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"Because the band had been immediately signed to highly regarded Rise Above Records (perhaps the ultimate stoner rock/doom metal label) and had sounded so mature and "together" straight out of the box, Orange Goblin was put under more scrutiny than most young groups. And after weathering a noticeable sophomore slump with 1998's often lackluster Time Travelling Blues, the quintet members probably knew they needed to come up with a strong showing the third time around in order to prove their worth. Early believers already knew that here was a supremely competent set of musicians, who managed to borrow most of the basic elements laid down by their stoner metal forefathers (Kyuss, Monster Magnet, Acrimony) without actually sounding too much like any of them. But their still developing songwriting skills hadn't really allowed them to stand out from that of other solid second-generation stoners, as of yet. Thankfully, their third opus, The Big Black, took a quantum leap in that direction by boasting Orange Goblin's most consistent and memorable batch of tunes thus far. The explosive power of opener "Scorpionica" immediately hints at this development, and further highlights like "Quincy the Pigboy" and the ultra-spacy "Cozmo Bozo" quickly confirm the listener's hopes. The propulsive, mad dervish of "Turbo Effalunt (Elephant)" (no doubt a stoned mispronunciation done good) provides as straightforward a head-banging delight as the band has ever committed to wax, and lengthy space rock jams like the title track also tend to avoid the excessive mucking about of previous years. Also conspicuously absent are the generally disposable organ accompaniments, which had cluttered the band's first two outings. This timely release also arrived as the Goblin's biggest UK competitors for stoner rock supremacy (Electric Wizard, Cathedral) were temporarily out of commission, helping the band attract many new fans as well as significantly more media attention." (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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"Matt Pike might be the most metal person alive. His dogmatic refusal to kowtow to trends is unparalleled for a relative young'un. He was stoner before stoner was cool (for the second time) with Sleep, and with High On Fire, he adds a speedy dimension, yet retains that doomsaying guitar tone that's thicker than a sumo wrestler's ankles, showing that going somewhere fast beats going nowhere slow more often than not. On sophomore release Surrounded By Thieves, the first, second, and third thing you hear is his guitar, a solidly packed continuous riff that sounds like Motörhead's bass chug. It is relentless, even when Pike solos, which then allows the band to mimic Saint Vitus on amphetamines. All eight songs sprawl on for several minutes at a time, each one an epic that rolls like sinister thunder across the landscape; storm coming, you better hide. There's not much variation on Surrounded; the whole disc pretty much locks in at 11, grabs your jugular, and refuses to let go, but when you get locked into a groove this good, who needs variety anyway?" (Brian O'Neill, All Music Guide)

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"Harvey Milk's tenure with Troubleman Unlimited gets off to a great start with this lavish double-disc reissue of the band's 1997 landmark album Courtesy and Good Will Toward Men. Sounding just as punishing and ambitious years later as it did then, tracks like "Sunshine (No Sun) Into the Sun" and the ten-minute epic "Pinocchio's Example" underscore Harvey Milk's willingness to mix delicate acoustic moments with the heaviest of the heavy (while "The Lord's Prayer" and "Go Back to France" prove they can work in just one of those modes equally well). The reissue also includes a 1996 performance at TT The Bears, which counts an extra-sludgy version of "Pinocchio" and the surprisingly speedy guitar work on "Merlin Is Magic" among its highlights. Neither strictly metal nor noise nor indie rock, but incorporating elements of all three, Harvey Milk's music remains an almost unclassifiable, love it or hate it proposition. For fans, though, this set offers more proof that the band has stood the test of time very well." (Heather Phares, All Music Guide)

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"Sunn's first two discs, The Grimmrobe Demos and 00 Void, established the group's droning, bass-heavy "power ambient" doom style and showed that the bandmembers had spent plenty of time listening to and learning from their Earth records. With Flight of the Behemoth, they begin with that same basic foundation (in fact, the first two tracks are impossible to distinguish from ones on their earlier albums), but for the first time also branch out to create something new, something that goes beyond any sort of mere Earth worship. This is partially true of the last track, "F.W.T.B.T.," which employs a drummer and a vocalist for the first time on any Sunn recording, but more so on the third and fourth ones, "O))) Bow 1" and "O))) Bow 2." Given the once-over by special guest mixer/legendary noise artist Merzbow, Sunn's hypnotic, slow-as-molasses feedback drones slowly evolve into a wall of distorted, swirling (although not completely overdriven) noise on these tracks, creating the sensation of being slowly sucked into a black hole while a symphony of chain saws plays in the background. Sound like fun? Well, needless to say, this music is not for everybody, but this collaboration has yielded something truly immense and frightening, bridging the gaps between dark ambient/drone music and electronic noise, between doom metal and avant-garde electro-acoustic sound. This is a remarkable album, recommended for brave connoisseurs of any of the above genres." (William York, All Music Guide)

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"Oh, the agony: Purveyors of sickening, plodding doom metal will want to search out Burning Witch's Crippled Lucifer, a generally overlooked tar-coated shriek of pain completely in line with the Southern Lord label's modern-takes-on-Black Sabbath philosophies. Formed by Thorr's Hammer guitarist Stephen O'Malley, Burning Witch is the logical musical step between said group and his subsequent projects, noise-drone belchers Sunn O))) and, especially, Khanate, which is carved from the same block of impenetrable granite, so to speak. Crippled Lucifer compiles seven tracks from two separate recording sessions; the first three tracks, from the original release dubbed Rift.Canyon.Dreams, were recorded in 1997, and the final four are from Towers..., laid to tape in 1996 by none other than Steve Albini. Regardless, all of Crippled is from the same, torturous valley of despair: Painfully slow rhythms collide like tectonic plates with droning, feedback-encased guitar riffs and truly heinous screeching from vocalist Edgy 59, all recalling the swamp-doom of Crowbar and Exhorder mixed with some Cathedral-style lunacy and a healthy dose of Eyehategod's flaking eyeball crust. Oh, and heaping handfuls of expired Vicodin, no doubt. Regardless, this extraordinarily noisy, anti-melodic "art" is sure to clear the room, "Sea Hag" and "Stillborn" pushing 15 and 12 minutes respectively, sounding like the soundtrack to depression, bringing to mind images of men trudging along bleary-eyed through a bleak existence of hard drugs, repetitive manual labor, and constant breathing of lung-coating industrial soot. Still, Burning Witch is so conceptually over the top, it must have been conceived and birthed with a sly wink; if not, you're better off tying a plastic bag over your head and just calling it quits. Crippled Lucifer is a minor classic of sorts, and definitely a love-it-or-hate-it affair; doom fans will be riveted to their seats, and everyone else will extract more joy from having their heads wedged in a clogged toilet." (John Serba, All Music Guide)

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"Acid Bath's second album further establishes the band's unique Southern punk/sludge/goth metal hybrid, only with warmer, fuller production and a more melodic songwriting approach than on their debut. The songs here are stylistically all over the map, but bound together in part by frontman Dax Riggs' powerful singing and dark lyrics (filled with references to death, graveyards, and bone dust.) The opener, "Paegan Love Song," is an instantly catchy shout-along anthem that combines '70s blues-rock elements with more modern metal drumming, while "Venus Blue is a straightforward slow rock song with a sad, soaring, guitar-heavy chorus that might have almost been radio ready if not for the graphic lyrics. "Diab Soule" is more in line with their debut, shifting between raging metal sections, melancholy melodic crooning and a heavy Southern/groove rock breakdown. The closer, "Dead Girl," is an all-acoustic ballad that brings to mind Alice in Chains, but again, thanks to the lyrics, it is more disturbing and sinister than any of that band's work. A couple of the songs go on a bit longer than they need to, but on the whole, this album is still filled with strong vocal melodies, memorable riffs, and well structured songs. While their debut also had plenty of standout tracks, Paegan Terrorism Tactics gets the edge over that CD due to its better production, more consistent songwriting, and generally more confident, mature tone." (William York, All Music Guide)

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"Woe to those who dismissed Sweden's Dozer as distant, perhaps unimportant satellites to the mostly U.S.-centric, late-'90s stoner rock solar system, for here they are: five years beyond that scene's generally accepted heyday, and ten into their career - and still they orbit, only now exerting the gravitational pull of a major heavenly body upon the smaller bands that lie scattered across the vast stoner rock asteroid belt. Can you dig? In the event you can't, and prefer less colorful descriptive methods, suffice to say that Dozer's fourth album, Through the Eyes of Heathens, cements the band's gradual transition from perceived followers to acknowledged leaders of this perennially beloved subgenre of underground hard rock. In fact, the ten tracks making up Through the Eyes of Heathens almost serve as a "state of the genre" address, boasting a broad cross section of historic stoner rock hallmarks. Take infectiously stripped-down tunes like "Drawing Dead," "Born a Legend," and "The Roof, the River, the Revolver," for instance - all of them so timeless they simultaneously fit in with the mid-2000s crop of post-stoner heavy blues-rock bands (Halfway to Gone Alabama Thunderpussy, etc.), and those Harley-on-the-highway, heavy groove-rock anthems laid down by Dozer's original contemporaries, Clutch and Fu Manchu. The apocalyptic "Until Man Exists No More" (featuring guest vocals from Mastodon's Troy Sanders) and the light-and-shade extremes of "Days of Future Past" dredge up massive Black Sabbath power chords from stoner rock's sister subgenre, doom, and the epic "Big Sky Theory" delves in neighboring psychedelic and space rock tendencies, while "From Fire Fell" and "Omega Glory" span the sonic evolution from Kyuss' pounding quasi-thrash to Queens of the Stone Age's driving riff-o-rama and quirky falsettos. There's even a total curve ball in "Man of Fire," where jabbing guitars and grungey vocal tones temporarily have the band sounding like Pearl Jam - weird! In the end, if there's anything truly dating - or at least geographically specific - on this album, it's Dozer's obvious disinterest in any of the Southern rock overtones so prevalent among mid-2000s retro rock combos, but they're never really missed here. Rather, Through the Eyes of Heathens offers top-of-the-line stoner rock at a time when it's sorely needed to revitalize the style." (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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"Solitude Aeturnus' first album, Into the Depths of Sorrow, arrived at a time - 1991 - when American doom metal was finally earning some measure of recognition, thanks to the previously underappreciated work of homegrown champions like Trouble, Saint Vitus, and the Obsessed - but, ironically, the Texas band's primary influence actually hailed from Sweden! Indeed, Solitude Aeturnus had originally been named simply "Solitude" by founding guitarist John Perez, based on the popular track from Candlemass' classic 1986 debut, Epicus Doomicus Metallicus, and so sonic similarities included the operatic vocals of Robert Lowe and the way epic-sized songs like "Opaque Divinity" and "Transcending Sentinels" alternated typically ponderous doom passages with galloping tempos and even speedy thrash metal bursts. Nevertheless, Solitude Aeturnus' own songwriting acumen within these parameters quickly proved the old dictum that too much of a good thing is rarely a bad thing, thanks to additional creative high watermarks such as "Dream of Immortality," the evocative "White Ship," and the sublimely somber "Mirror of Sorrow." Some listeners may have felt that these songs dragged on for little longer than necessary at times, but not those who took note of the consistently stellar guitar solos traded between Perez and fellow six-stringer Edgar Rivera. And even though the "American Candlemass" tag would ultimately haunt Solitude Aeturnus throughout their career, Into the Depths of Sorrow received enthusiastic blessings from the bulk of doom enthusiasts for the many worthy qualities of its own." (Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide)

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"On their third album, Shivering King and Others, Dead Meadow continues to prove just how apt their name is, crafting vast guitar epics that have all the beauty and strangeness of a frostbitten field at midnight. While both their self-titled debut and Howls From the Hills showed power and promise, they were still defined and confined by the heavy influence of forebears such as Zeppelin and Hendrix, as well as by contemporaries such as Bardo Pond. On this album - which is also their Matador debut - Dead Meadow seems to have found their own voice and pared their music down until it reflects nothing but their essence. The stunning opener, "I Love You Too," proves this immediately: based on a riff that's equally heavy and haunting, it unfolds over seven minutes, ebbing and flowing with squalling solos and Jason Simon's moody, reverb-cloaked vocals. The rest of the album follows suit, offering relatively concise, powerful rockers like "Bubbling Flower" and the title track; eerie, slow-burning ballads like "Everything's Going On" (which appears in a dramatically different form than it did on Howls From the Hills) and "Wayfarers All"; and chiming acoustic numbers like "Heaven" and "Good Moanin'." That the bulk of Shivering King and Others finds Dead Meadow operating in one of these three modes is far from disappointing, though, since the band's ideas and execution have come such a long way in just a few years. A spooky sleekness winds its way through even the album's most scorching rockers, coming to the fore on brief cuts like "She's Mine" and more expansive ones like the finale, "Raise the Sails." Bludgeoning and beautiful all at once, Shivering King and Others is Dead Meadow's finest work to date and the album that their fans always knew they had it in them to make." (Heather Phares, All Music Guide)

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"Just like the dr*g, all of the acid-drenched stoner rock in the early 21st century can become a bit of a drag. The Japanese have their own take on such things to keep them fresh, but often American bands turn on the down low, so slow and so deep in the riff department that the notion of what an electric guitar can do when played with complete inspiration backed by a symbiotic rhythm section evades them. Enter San Diego's Earthless, who blew pretty much everybody's mind with their debut full-length Sonic Prayer in 2005. They jam as Jimi Hendrix jammed, as Cream and Free and even Humble Pie jammed when they took it outside. But Earthless are always outside. They literally enter the sonic maelstrom of inspiration and free flowing, molten, deeply emotional energy where most felt it was at its peak, and they go up from there, moving into dusted rock realms not even dreamed of by the current jam band crew, the stoners or the droners, or even the heaviest of the doomers. They could hang with the most progressive of the metal bands around if they wanted to, but it's not in their credo. They don't see how long they can extend a chord; instead they see how many notes can fit into one, and how groove-oriented a tripped-out riff can get.

They know the other side: these guys belong more with the Japanese bands, with Stars or Acid Mothers Temple, when they choose to find the groove to take them there instead of pure power. But there is no lack of power on Rhythms from a Cosmic Sky, the first Earthless effort for Tee Pee. The CD is beautifully packaged in a four-color, mini-LP gatefold. And the music? Beginning with "Godspeed" (a four-part suite lasting 20 minutes) you are on a ride into the unknown spaces. Chaos, feedback, slamming snares and shimmering cymbals (courtesy of drummer Ruby Mars, who used to be Rocket from the Crypt's Mario Rubalcaba) adorn the first three minutes, so one thinks he is on board with Kawabata Makoto or Musica Transionic. Then it begins. In earnest. The sheer rock power domination, the blues, the boogie, the Sabbathian power riffs, the speed and classic power metal, and the freedom to go wherever the hell one pleases are all woven in. There are song structures and they take over for a few minutes before guitarist Isaiah Mitchell lets his freak flag start to fly into the stratosphere, and as bassist Mike Eginton pushes the riff into the loud Mars double- and triple-times the band. Mitchell is an astonishing guitarist who takes his time and lets fourth gear move into fifth, sixth, seventh, and then pushes the throttle way past the redline mark.

On this set, producer Tim Green plays Hammond B-3 and adds a certain mesmerizing dimension and texture to this otherworldly, deeply heavy flip-out set. Mitchell doesn't forget the riffs, he simply fills the spaces between them with seemingly endless solos. And in a way, they are. Is this indulgent? You bet. Is this excessive? Totally. Is it called for? Oh God, yes. They shake the deafening rock tower of Babel as they climb it into an oblivion of their own genuine and inspiring creation. The listener is tempted to keep turning the stereo box up until the ears begin to bleed a bit. The second jam here, named for their first album, "Sonic Prayer" begins with a slow, sitar like drone, gentle, gentle, and then the bloody enormous riff kicks in as a wall of controlled feedback creates its own drone as Eginton provides that hypnosis with a constant thrum and Mars breaks his beats in between the phrases: squall, noise and space are all parsed out as Mitchell begins his dreamy trip to the outer kingdoms with beautiful effects like wah wah, echo and delay. Before long, this 21-minute journey into the realms of the sorcerer starts to move and shape shift: the riffing returns en masse to remind the listener that this is no hippy jive, but something far weirder, more beatific, darker and heavier than anyone else outside the Japanese realms, and they give all of them a run for their money with their unique melodic improvisation and space exploration. Think of Hendrix playing with Sabbath without the vocals and add Cream's sense of movement and thud. "Sonic Prayer" is simply one of those tracks that should be destined as an example of prime acid rock jamming taken to a whole new level. The big surprise on this already wonderfully exhausting wail of a record is a cover of the legendary Groundhogs' "Cherry Red" with vocals. This is no mere interpretation; it's a note for note - with amplified heaviness added for good measure - re-creation of the blues-bashing rocker from days of yore. It takes four-and-a-half minutes to move through and it's no add on, it's a destroyer of a climax and gives great weight to the notion of bringing real rhythm and the metallic blues back to the fore. Mitchell. Eginton and Mars are the almost insanely gifted Earthless: they're a whole other thing in American power rock right now. They point a way that few will be able to follow." (Thom Jurek, All Music Guide)

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