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Death metal is a relatively young genre, all things considered. When genre progenitors Death, led by the late Chuck Schuldiner, released their landmark debut Scream Bloody Gore in 1987, the genre was nascent and primitive. In just a few short years, these genre pioneers embraced melody and progressive elements alongside their blast beats and shock-value cover art.

Evolution and progression quickly became hallmarks of death metal. The spirit of change drives the genre as much as the musicians’ love for knuckle-dragging riffs and camo shorts.

— Emily Bellino

“Forming a new band, we were like ‘Yeah, let’s have no boundaries,” recalls Tomas Lindberg. “We can include violin, we can listen to King Crimson and try to incorporate that. That was the main starting point of the whole band and that’s still what we live by.”

In the early 1990s, Tomas and his bandmates in At The Gates found themselves at the forefront of the burgeoning melodic death metal movement in Gothenburg, Sweden alongside peers like In Flames and Ceremonial Oath. Though At The Gates initially broke up in 1996 in the wake of their legacy-making and subgenre-defining fourth album, Slaughter of the Soul, their place in the Swedish death metal scene was undeniable. Tomas remembers that time fondly and sees it as a creative period, though he admits that he didn’t foresee the legacy of the Gothenburg sound.

“When you’re that young, you’re very ambitious and almost pretentious,” Tomas reflects. “You think you have all the answers, you think you know everything, so we thought what we were doing was exactly how we want our music to sound. Of course, it was inspiring after a few years. Other bands in the area, Dark Tranquility, In Flames, started to pop up and there was a healthy competition in a way.”

Of course, the 1990s Gothenburg scene is but one of countless to emerge in death metal’s 35-year existence. A quick scan through the archives of Terrorizer, Metal Maniacs or Decibel reveals scenes in regions around the world: New York and Florida in the United States; the Gothenburg sound as well as the “buzzsaw” Swedish variant; scenes in Finland, the United Kingdom, and many other corners of the globe.

Today, melodic death metal exists around the world and Slaughter of the Soul is widely accepted as a stone-cold classic. But while the echoes of Gothenburg can be heard everywhere, the death metal scene – and extreme metal at large – is changing. For artists, the advent of services like Bandcamp and the internet in general has changed everything. Coupled with recording costs that are lower than ever before and the existence of social media, the distribution and consumption of obscure and extreme music has never been easier.

Reflecting on the band’s decade-and-change career thus far, Full Of Hell vocalist Dylan Walker attributes a portion of the band’s success – and general existence – to the internet.
“All the tools are more laid out for anyone than ever before and I think that’s important,” Dylan muses. “It can’t be a gated experience and it’s not; I think the barriers are all falling down and yeah, you could say that’s going to oversaturate things, but that’s fine with me. It’s like a rainforest – there will be a lot of dead plants on the bottom, but everybody deserves an equal opportunity to start a band.”

Dylan explains that when Full Of Hell began some 12 years ago, the band had no recorded music, and didn’t consider themselves to be very good. That didn’t stop them, however: strictly utilising social media, the then-teenagers got in the van and began to play shows. Seven years, a couple LPs and a staggering number of EPs and splits later, Full Of Hell met their creative equal in long-running experimental duo The Body, with whom they released the collaborative album One Day You Will Ache Like I Ache.

The two groups toured the album, which was an unorthodox and unsettling amalgam of noise, sludge, industrial, grindcore and death metal. As Dylan explains, The Body were invited to perform at Roadburn in 2016, and Full Of Hell “snuck on” the festival as their tourmates.
“It went really well,” Dylan says. “I definitely feel like we stood out but that was the year Converge did Jane Doe and G.I.S.M. played, and to me you could feel a different vibe just based on how it was curated.”

Full Of Hell’s inclusion at Roadburn in 2016, in addition to their planned residency at Roadburn 2020, is one of many indicators that the winds of change are blowing. The grinding death metal quartet, with their noisy trappings and shrieking, animalistic vocals, are not a “typical” Roadburn band. Traditionally, very few death metal or grindcore bands have played Roadburn, and the limited performances have generally been special sets.

With Roadburn’s roots as a stoner/doom and heavy psych festival, 2016 was a pivotal year for the festival, introducing Full of Hell and Repulsion to the mix. The inclusion stuck – in just four years, Full Of Hell went from outsider extremists to would-be artists in residence at Roadburn. Dylan doesn’t find it that strange, noting that he thought Japanese metal-punk weirdos G.I.S.M. were a far weirder act.

When considering At The Gates’ 2019 performance at Roadburn, the same year he was a featured curator, Tomas says that the band paid special attention to crafting a set that would appeal to a crowd unfamiliar with their music. In addition to classic material, At The Gates performed songs with cellist Jo Quail, and also performed covers with Swedish songwriter Anna von Hausswolff and Sleep guitarist Matt Pike.

“We did pre-productions, recordings, rehearsing in different places with different guest musicians and everything, writing scores for the strings,” Tomas recalls of At The Gates’ performance at the festival. “It was huge. When we stepped off that stage afterwards, we were happy and thrilled, but we were also very relieved because it was a huge undertaking.”

Still, it raises the question: does death metal belong at Roadburn, and if so, in what form?

“Anything could happen, but with At the Gates, we are aware of what a Roadburn band is, and we also know that we are not a 100% Roadburn band, but our music is 200% Roadburn,” Tomas says, perpetuating the idea that a “Roadburn band” is not about genre. The presence of death metal at Roadburn raises another point: is the death metal scene changing, or are more people just aware of its existence? The consensus seems to fall toward the latter: regardless of generation and role in the scene, every individual interviewed for this piece agreed that, while the scene is growing because of new technology and less-centralised scenes, forward-thinking and unorthodox artists have always been a part of death metal. It’s just more visible now.

Dark Descent Records has been crucial in death metal’s surging popularity over the last decade and change. Now approaching its twelfth anniversary, Dark Descent is responsible for introducing bands like Horrendous, Blood Incantation and Spectral Voice to the scene at large. Though he’s signed some of the most popular bands in the scene today, owner Matt Calvert explains that he chooses bands because he enjoys them and they fit on the label. Because Dark Descent has a rapport with its customers, fans are then willing to give new bands a try after seeing the label’s stamp of approval, harkening back to the days of old when longhairs put their blind faith in Earache Records (until the label “betrayed” them by releasing Heartwork).

“12 years to me is a long time for sure, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s a very large timeframe for others,” Matt says. “We’ve had customers say “Hey, I’ve been listening to your releases since I was 15, I’m in my mid-20s now.”

Matt also points out that death metal has always been able to endure surges and ebbs in popularity, noting that the underground genre has been around long enough to have developed a fanbase that ignores the larger trends. “You love this music or you don’t,” he asserts. “I’m 50 this year, and I still listen to it because I love it. All I’m going to do is keep putting out quality releases and if some people leave us, they leave us.

“I don’t know if we’d call it a fad,” he continues, thinking about the enduring appeal of death metal, and the waxing and waning of its popularity. “We might call it a lessening of the audience, and that’s probably different. At this point, death metal’s been established for quite a while.”

This endurance is what allows new strains to grow within death metal; Matt says that three decades is long enough for bands to develop diverse influences. In decades prior, the pool to draw inspiration from was much smaller. The access to those varying influences also allows for a much more dialed-in sound, in whatever direction that artist wants to go.

“I think it’ll get more intelligent, it’ll get dumber, I think every good little aspect of metal and punk and extreme music like that, everybody is gonna be able to pick exactly what sliver of the sound they really like, and bore into it,” Dylan says. In many ways, the desire to burrow into more and more specific and dialed-in sounds is the same desire that drives Roadburn curators, individuals who are crucial to the festival’s presentation every year.

“Every Roadburn is different depending on who is curating it a little bit,” Tomas says. “I was very meticulous about it. Every band that I chose for the curation would fit into the Roadburn audience’s frame of mind a little bit, but still challenge them.”

For At The Gates, it’s their influence from bands like King Crimson and orchestral instruments and grand instrumentation that drives the sound in a different direction. For Full Of Hell, it’s the way the noisemongers borrow just the pieces they want from other genres. “I felt like it was a badge of honor to just participate, because to me it was so carefully curated,” Dylan says. “I think that’s a really smart festival and we always wanted Full of Hell to sort of fit into that.”

Lindberg and Walker both express their belief that most death metal bands could play Roadburn under some circumstance. Prior to Full of Hell’s inclusion, Napalm Death performed a special set of slower material in 2014, Repulsion played in 2016 and in 2019, Ulcerate made their debut at the festival.

The At The Gates vocalist stresses the cross-pollination that already exists between scenes, pointing out the fact that Mono played the same year as the Gothenburg legends. According to Tomas, the two bands make an effort to catch each other when they perform in the other’s home country. He adds that he has also performed at Roadburn with crust stalwarts Disfear, whose sound is more traditional.

In the same way that Tomas believes that Disfear fit as a release from the eclecticism that bands like At The Gates and Mono provide, he suggests that both more progressive and more primitive variants of death metal can find a home at the festival. Dylan agrees: while his immediate response is to suggest that bands like Gorguts, Artificial Brain and Tomb Mold would be the best fit for Roadburn, he quickly adds that “ultra-brutal dumb stuff” fits in the outside-the-box expectations that he has for Roadburn’s yearly lineup.

“It’d be pretty out of the box to see Sanguisugabogg on there, but I think if Walter likes it, it makes sense” he says, referring to festival mastermind and artistic director Walter / Roadburn. “I think people would be into it. Who’s to say where the line is?”

Death metal has come a long way since the 1990s, and has continued to evolve since the genre’s popularity blossomed again in the mid-2010s. As the genre continues to grow, it makes room for bands both progressive and traditional; just as the old-school death metal revival rages on into the 2020s, bands are also releasing albums that couldn’t have been imagined when Cynic wrote Focus or when Roadburn opened its gates for the first time in April 1999.

Despite its reputation as a metal festival – generally one that serves a doom-oriented crowd – Roadburn has also spent over 20 years evolving into a multi-faceted festival. No longer is the festival a three-band, one-day event. In 2022, attendees will have dozens of bands to choose from over three days. No two Roadburners will have quite the same experience, much like no two bands on the festival sound quite the same.

The future of Roadburn and the future of death metal are yet to be written, but for now, the genre is growing and has found a home at the festival, with Full Of Hell planning to return in 2022. Whether attributed to progressive elements or a fortuitous choice in collaborators, the spirit of innovation and a love for heavy, alternative music have brought the two together.
“I think it still holds the same banner,” Dylan concludes. “It’s about progressive music and inclusivity and that’s about it. I don’t think it’s limited any longer. It definitely seems like there’s more of a variety. Who knows what to expect nowadays?”

ONES TO WATCH:

Necrot

For all this talk of string instruments in death metal, the old-school practitioners are showing that you can teach an old dog new tricks. San Francisco outfit Necrot earned their stripes through heavy touring and constant focus. Tours with Cannibal Corpse, Morbid Angel, Suffocation and the Black Dahlia Murder have confirmed that Necrot can stand with the greats. Their second and latest album, Mortal, charted on Billboard’s Hard Rock and New Artist charts, proving the genre still has plenty of life left in it.

Blood Incantation

Pink Floyd never imagined a trip like this. Cosmic raging death dealers Blood Incantation have always marched to the beat of their own drum—recording with analogue technology, resisting a presence on social media until absolutely necessary and writing 18-minute songs with 17-word titles. The final product is unlike any other: atmospheric, psychedelic, intensely technical and played with frightening precision, the death metal equivalent to a breakthrough mushrooms trip.

Outer Heaven

Morbid Angel knew Where the Slime Live, and it seems like Philadelphia’s Outer Heaven do too. On their full-length debut, Realms of Eternal Decay, Outer Heaven took the best parts of death metal’s classics and synthesised a slab of progressive, swampy death metal that tells the story of a primordial slime’s conquest of Earth.

Undeath

New York state has historically been home to some of death metal’s filthiest, heaviest bands and Undeath do those forefathers proud. Their debut full-length, Lesions Of A Different Kind, is a pure celebration of death, in both a sonic and conceptual sense. Lesions sounds like a remastered lost classic, with its boneheaded riffing, cavernous vocals and song titles like Phantasmal Festering and Chained To A Reeking Rotting Body.

Venom Prison

Venom Prison were formed in opposition to death metal’s most-misogynistic tropes. Their first album, Animus, features an assailant being force fed his recently-removed genitals, a good indicator for the brutality within. Their second album, Samsara, hits just as hard because it’s often rooted in reality. Vocalist Larissa Stupar takes aim at politics, sexual assault, hate crimes and mental illness against chugging, biting guitars and pounding drums with a touch of hardcore influence. The UK quintet call for change—both in the world at large and in the death metal scene—and battle tropes with no gimmick.

Sanguisasugabogg

For every Venom Prison, there is a Sanguisugabogg. The Columbus quartet appeal to the genre’s deranged, perverse side, writing songs about pornography, sex and excessive gore with all the finesse of a neanderthal and his club. Songs like Dead as Shit and Dick Filet betray a sense of humor that isn’t present in the horror movie lyrics of Gored in the Chest or Dragged by a Truck.

Andrew Eldritch was on one long amphetamine comedown when he wrote the Sisters Of Mercy’s best material throughout the 1980s. Staunchly in denial of his gothness and holding firm as Draculian rock god of the British Isles, Eldritch remains the ideal intersection of dark electronic music and guitar-driven rock and heavy metal that, sometimes, can draw in the same type of listener.

In the above lyrics, taken from 1987 anthem Lucretia My Reflection, guitars grind down into the tick-tock heartbeat of Eldritch’s beloved drum machine Doktor Avalanche. His solemn baritone vocals ring out in the chaos, an uncanny antihero’s voice projected with confidence, with aggression. It is weird and heavy, monumental and moving. Play it at the goth club or at the metal bar alike and you’re almost guaranteed to notice a fellow true ‘head’s face light up.

Electronic music and heavy metal couldn’t seem more different in theory, but that surface level reading belies an ocean of common waters in which plenty a black-clad rebel might swim. Anyone who’s dug out a perimeter spot in an active pit knows the thrill of throbbing as one with their fellow concert goer; this also holds true for the industrial techno raver swapping sweat with other dancers during a pounding Berlin sunrise.

— Kelsey Chapstick

Los Angeles act HEALTH are a contemporary group who understand and exemplify this crossover potential by fusing heavy electronics with more traditional rock instrumentation to create what they describe as “modern hard rock”. In this 2019 Revolver interview, they discuss how classic bands like Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple have already released the greatest hits that genre can offer. Adding synthesisers is, for HEALTH, the way forward that can add heft and interest to their music.

“Whenever we say something needs to be heavier, it needs ‘more dog’,” they explain, citing a goofy episode of The Simpsons that features dogs swimming in a brewery’s vat of beer to increase the flavour potential of the batch. They cite the Roland TR-808 synthesiser as being “huger [sic] than anything in the world”, and note they incorporate tools like that in order to sound “the most fuckin’ dog”.

While HEALTH aim for sheer power in their music, more nuanced acts like Roadburn favourites Kaelan Mikla rely primarily on thematic heaviness to convey a sense of darkness and weight. Their layered synth lines weave a smoky incantation of Icelandic folklore and tortured dreamscapes, while pulsating backbeats get your body moving.

In an interview I conducted for Revolver right before the release of their 2018 LP Nott Eftir Nott, keyboard player and vocalist Solveig Matthildur said they’d written “songs of regret, shadows, witches and all the things that lure in the darkest hour of night mixed with Icelandic folklore, and reminiscent of the winter darkness that simultaneously frightens us and makes us feel at home”.

Her move from a black metal hotspot like Iceland to techno-drenched Berlin surely affected the dancier bits of the record, further gluing their feet in divergent scenes with ease and panache. One look at their latest video Sólstöður shows their continued love for blackened imagery while pointed doses of aggressive shrieking only highlight the beautiful contrast to a steady, pounding beat.

In complete opposition to HEALTH and Kaelan Mikla is a Roadburn Redux performer, Ethan Lee McCarthy. His project Many Blessings, a self-described “experimental outlet” for the Primitive Man and Vermin Womb frontman, is less interested in dance beats and fully dedicated to brain-melting aural terror; though, if you’re already familiar with the paralysing death metal terror of Primitive Man, that should be no surprise.

Violent, caustic, and ambient in the way a train grinding through a football field of rusty cars might be, Many Blessings albums like Thank You, Good Bye are comprised of increasingly harsh sounds over droning sonic backdrops that facilitate a sort of uneasy catharsis. The quixotically confessional titles are works of art in themselves, posing questions like Is it A Victimless Crime?, while other tracks like Wet Vessel beg for explanations that will never come. McCarthy stabs at the rawest form of self-expression through unfettered sounds and, without fail, draws blood every time.

There’s no way to talk about spilled blood in harsh electronics without mentioning HIDE. The duo excel beyond being simply musicians and instead use terrifying visuals, abrasive soundscapes, scathing performances, and their foreboding presence to sear through the heart of electronic music since their 2014 inception. Singer Heather Gabel doesnt pull a single punch when slicing into the meat of the outfit’s purpose, telling Revolver in 2014:

“I want people to feel afraid. So many people live in fear all the time because of who they are. My songs are about turning it back on the people who prey on [them].”

HIDE were set to perform on Roadburn’s fated 2020 lineup, a dismal loss for ticket-holders who anticipated the acerbic bite of the duo’s stage presence. COVID-19 took plenty of incredible acts away in its wrath, especially in a year when electronic music was set to take on perhaps its largest role in the festival’s history.

Boy Harsher were another victim of the cancellation, but now’s the time to dive deep on their catalog if you haven’t yet. If you’ve been to any goth club or party in the past several years, you’ve heard Pain.  It’s infectious, sexy, impossible to ignore, and one of the biggest hits of the dark electronic music scene in recent history. It’s the Massachusetts act’s signature song, and a perfect example of why they deserve every ounce of attention they’ve gotten over the past few years.

Formed in 2013 as Teen Dreamz before changing names and refining their dance appeal the following year, Boy Harsher dropped their debut Yr Body Is Nothing in 2016 and have since released instant classics like Country Boy Uncut and Careful with seemingly effortless charisma and creativity. The two members, Augustus Mueller and Jae Matthews, come from film-focused backgrounds and use their knack for tension-building and keen aesthetics to craft brilliant works of art like Send Me A Vision, which you can watch below. Timeless, ethereal, and unsettling in the most exciting way, it’s a stunning short film.

Another million-plus viewed video of Boy Harsher is Motion, which stars another prolific underground music star, Kristina Esfandiari. Kristina is the pinnacle of crossover potential, working as the mastermind behind passionate doom peddlers King Woman (formerly a solo project) while simultaneously creating bubblegum indie as Miserable, revenge rap as Dalmation, harsh industrial act NGHTCRWLR – we could go on, but you get the picture. She’s the physical manifestation of what multi-genre fusing looks like in one artist, and a prime reason why none of us should fear taking in sounds that seem daunting or different, unfamiliar.

Ultimately, that lack of fear and coming together of the creative minds is the spirit that drives a festival like Roadburn. While it may have started as a more stoner-doom mashup of acts that indulged in the legality of cannabis in its home country, the fest has since become a multi-headed hydra of brash, unapologetic performers that seek to touch, move, and enthrall their loyal watchers while indoctrinating newcomers into new, unknown pleasures.

While many of us joined scenes like those found tied to heavy metal or goth out of a sense of rejection from mainstream ideals, we’re sometimes reluctant to find common ground in that exile. Sloughing off rigid genre loyalty is refreshing and empowering, though, and not nearly as scary as it might seem at first. Heshers can dance, dancers can headbang, and the point of it all has always been fun, poetic, emotional catharsis through movement and art, community and camaraderie.

ONES TO WATCH:

She Past Away

While they cringe at comparisons to the Sisters, it’s impossible to deny that She Past Away share at least a few sonic similarities with them. They are also a valuable voice in the dark electronic scene today, as well as another would-be act from Roadburn’s impeccable and sorely missed 2020 lineup.

The Turkish goths are known for their captivating hooks and dense atmospherics, beginning with their 2009 debut EP, Kasvetli Kutlama. Singer Volkan Caner haunts with a lonesome bellow while ice guitars, punchy keyboards, and a steady beat on the drum machine swirl up enchantment.

The EP’s title track is a depressive, atmospheric ode to loneliness and feeling one’s self slip away in a sea of ‘black leather masks on fake faces’ – lyrics that would feel just at home on a black or doom metal album. While those genres tend toward concentrated, dedicated crowds, She Past Away’s undeniable catchiness boosted their crossover appeal and gained an impressive eight and a half million views on YouTube alone. Even hesher diehards won’t be able to deny the duo’s magnetism and, really, why try?

Andi Harriman

Music journalist, DJ, frequent lecturer, and literal writer on the book of goth (check out her coveted tome Some Wear Leather, Some Wear Lace), Andi Harriman is one of modern electronic music’s best assets for carrying the torch of everything dark and dance floor-ready. You can find a smattering of entrancing sample sets on her website that give a peek into her musical style and the type of tunes she’s likely to spin at Synthicide, an electronic party and label she runs in New York City.

Also make sure to check out her debut EP with Berlin-based label Aufnahme + Wiedergabe, including the video for Ruminandum, that acts as a colorful pastiche of ’80s-influenced imagery dragged straight from the subconscious of an AI-generated brain fed a decade’s worth of archival MTV footage and early digital experimentation.

Gallops

Gallops made their band debut at Roadburn, thus establishing their legitimacy on this list but also solidifying the growing breadth of ‘burners’ listening habits. When I attended in 2018, I recall the inescapable draw of Gost blocking out a full room of attendees ready to boogie, but they have since moved into more industrial territory, and left a gap into which another danceable act must fall if the crowd wants to keep moving well into the night. Enter: Gallops.

Tracks like Darkjewel and Shakma are perfect examples of their crossover potential when we’re talking ravers and heshers: there’s a steady, four-on-the-floor beat succeeded by ineffable grooves that hook the ear and move the body effortlessly.

Drab Majesty

Dais Records act Drab Majesty are coldwave revolutionaries whose simmering, perfect 1980s heartbeat builds on the aesthetics of vaporwave, the sounds of modern new wave, and the visual appeal of Andy Warhol dressed as a cyborg clown from 1967’s idea of the future.

Drab Majesty started as the solo project of Deb Demure, the alter ego of Andrew Clinco of American rockers Marriages, since the release of 2012 EP Unarian Dances. 2017 seemed to blow the doors off with the release of The Demonstration, just after Mona D joined the small crew. Their live performances as a duo are swathed in thick fog and bisexual lighting (in case you’re not familiar, click here to read more), leaving the watcher either primed for casual, relaxed dancing or a trancelike, soft-focus audience experience.

Check out their popular video for Oxytocin to get a sense of the baroque grandeur and ennui-soaked sound that sets them apart from their contemporaries.

Hante.

Self-described as a “one-woman powerhouse of Parisian Darkwave,” Hante. is the brainchild of musician Hélène de Thoury that fuses pounding electronic beats, reverberant whispers, and sensual melodies to create sensual dance tracks imbued with the darkness needed to hold an entire room rapt from start to finish.

Hante is set to participate at Roadburn Redux, so watch her new music video to no doubt pick up on the numerous influences surely loved by plenty of ‘burners, like those she name-dropped in a 2019 interview:

“I’m still very influenced by bands I was listening to when I was very young such as Queen, Guns N’ Roses, Radiohead, David Bowie, Tears For Fears, The Human League, and Depeche Mode… I was listening to a lot of industrial/metal bands in the noughties and now there are a lot of amazing synthwave artists who inspire me such as Xeno & Oaklander, Hord, TR/ST, Boy Harsher, Selofan, Drab Majesty, and so many more.”

Some of the most magical Roadburn moments are primed with amorphous, free form chaos – the feeling that anything can happen at any moment. Terminal Cheesecake, 2015 was a glorious case in point: a maelstrom of dense, flowing noise, juddering subs, krautrock adjacent jams and, above all, a near medieval sense of mischief played at an ear bleeding volume. It felt all the more insane for the fact that it was happening on Sunday night, when most in attendance were already brain fried as it was.

Any Roadburners reading this will no doubt have a glorious cornucopia of their own such treasured memories and, after a year in lockdown, the need for mind transference has arguably never been greater. Luckily, a plethora of bands, labels and festivals continue, often against harsh odds, to fight the good fight through some of the toughest – and weirdest – years in living memory: offering up the sonic sacrament despite it all. Hypnotic, swirling, droning, noisy, beautiful, beatific – here we take a look at some of the highlights of the last year of mind melting heaviosity. Call it psych, call it noise – call it Susan if you like – take the following as crucial brain feeders.

— Harry Sword

Rocket Recordings have long been central instigators in heavy, noisy, trippy, joyous sounds of various persuasions. Over the past 20 years they’ve put out a welter of sounds that span everything from the gnarled hypnotic heaviosity of Gnod to the playful theatrical ritualism of Goat; the widescreen, epic instrumentalism of Hills to the driving electric pummel of Teeth of the Sea

The past year has seen a number of highlights on the label. Gnod and Joao Pais Filipe’s Faco de Fogo combines the former’s mesmeric sensibility with the latter’s idiosyncratic percussive chops (Filipe is a skilled metalworker who makes his own cymbals and gongs) to seriously immersive ends.

Initially meeting at the Milhoes de Festa festival in Portugal where both were playing (Gnod were intrigued by a gong in the shape of a skateboard that Filipe was exhibiting), they got together for a three day jam session at Filipe’s metalwork studio and then a further four days recording, which was laid down with hardly any overdubs. Riffing on the four elements – earth, air, water and fire, with each jam named after one – it’s a swirling, pulsating, often foreboding quasi industrial vibe they work up, tempered by a loose jazzy swing. Indeed, this is something Gnod are past masters of – living and working at the Salford Mill, they often (particularly on records like Infinity Machines and Mirror) riff on a gritty, tripped out urban vibe that is, even at its darkest. always imbued with a sense of humanity and soul. Here, Filipe’s percussion (check the frenetic hand held drums and windchimes on Faca De Ar) lifts the final mix into funkier, brighter territory: it’s all about the contrast.

Keeping with Rocket, Anthroprophh did what they do best – swirling, wall of fuzz, face melting riffage – on the rough as gargling moonshine Toilet Circuit EP, imbuing the whole thing with a rawkus, punky, in-your-face sensibility not dissimilar to Dinosaur Jr at their most full-on, albeit minus the melancholy.

Pigs X7 built on the Buckfast-fuelled Sabbathian thwack of 2017’s Feed The Rats and the (even) heavier King of Cowards – a rawkus, motorik chug-fest that combined the brute swing of sludge metal with an unhinged Stooges-esque vibe (the highlight of which was a rollicking, steamroller pean to, well, a stretch of motorway in the form of ‘A66’) with the roaring Viscerals. Pretty much all you need in the form of squall and grease and seedy riffage was present and correct, not least on the epic Halloween Bolson – nine minutes of descending grot, a hoedown for the encroaching dark ages.

One of Rocket’s long time bands Hey Colossus released a bone fide masterpiece in the form of Dances/Curses, this time on bassist Joe Thompson’s Wrong Speed Records. An epic double that hummed with otherworldly portent and dusky atmosphere, Dances/Curses traded on patient arrangements, haunting melody and driving, mesmeric rhythm. It’s one of those rare albums that exists very much in its own headspace – you need to listen beginning to end with no interruptions for full effect – and was, rightly, lauded by many as the album of 2020. Approaching a tribal, ritualistic vibe on tracks like Tied in a Firing Line and A Trembling Rose, Dances/Curses is the sound of a band at the absolute pinnacle of their creative powers – a shimmering, hypnotic trip that would well soundtrack rainy motorway night drives. Mark Lanegan even lent his Marlboro-blasted larynx to the dramatic call of The Mirror.

White Hills’ Splintered Metal Sky was, in the absence of travel, a passport straight to the still beating, blackened heart of grindhouse 1980’s New York City. A dilapidated, clanking, quasi-industrial vibe prevailed on tracks like Now Manhattan and Digital Trash that – while speaking of the stress and clatter of big city life – somehow suited the jittery, paranoid, anxious mood of a year in lockdown perfectly. Think Suicide, Stooges, No Wave, bedroom synth experiments. Bleak – but immense fun –this was an industrial vision of the city put through the sideways psychedelic blender, evoking a singularly cinematic vista of New York, like something out of Death Wish: the street prophets, humid summers, dealers, street punks n’ hustlers – it’s all threaded together amidst clanking beats, weird, fizzy, dial up modem samples, white noise, drones and the call and response vocal dynamic of Dave W and Ego Sensation. Another killer release from the ever dependable God Unknown Records – one of the mainstays of modern psych.

Moving from the gritty and resolutely urban into outer stellar orbit, a special mention must surely go to wildly prolific guitarist Mike Vest. Well known for his work in Bong, Blown Out, Drunk in Hell and the majestic 11 PARANOIAS (check 2019’s Asterismal, which is strictly for the headstrong – planetary collapse bass weight, wall of noise fuzz attack, titanic desert sand storms, asteroid impact, time collapsing in on itself… all that good stuff), he’s also lent his formidable chops to a welter of solo projects (not least last years dronal hypnofest Absolute released under his Zodan moniker, as well as the welter of Lush Worker releases that tend to focus on noisier lo-fi gear) and collaborations.

Last year’s Lost Bones of the Holy Butterfly by Mienkunaru, in particular, was stunning. A collaboration with ex Overhang Party guitarist Junzo Suzuki, it encompassed two 20-minute tracks: churning, noisy, questing, tripped-out instrumentals of the very highest grade. Vamping around pummelling tribal drums and squalling reverb laden riffage that melded both players’ styles to powerfully majestic effect, it was all wrapped up in that special Vest feeling – ever-rising epiphany through continually embellished repetition. God tier, head twisting gear to be played at skull cracking volume.

Indeed, Vest’s numerous collaborations – and it would be a fool’s errand to attempt to list it all – point to a spirit of singularly open-ended collaboration that personifies the fertile psych/noise scene in his native Newcastle Upon Tyne. Box Records – run by none other than PigsX7 vocalist Matt Baty – has provided something of a nucleus for a deluge of wild sounds in the city, and further afield, since 2009. Putting out everything from early records by Bong and Gnod, through to the demented noise of Terminal Cheesecake (not least 2019’s superlative La Sucre De Livre) to folksier fare by Richard Dawson and haunting drone excursions by Jospeh Curwen, one of the most essential releases of 2020 came on the label in the form of Luminous Bodies’Nah Nah Nah Yeh Yeh Yeh. A greasy, dunderheaded racket entirely befitting of a band composed of members of Part Chimp, Terminal Cheesecake and Melting Hand, this is roc’n’roll left to boil over until a blackened, chemical crust forms on the bottom of the pan; a punch drunk stumble through every dive bar west of hell (in Roadburn terms, we’re talking a debauched midnight session at the Cul De Sac made sonic flesh). What can you say about a band with a song entitled Fuck the Beatles other than, ‘Please sir, may I have some more?’

Talking of febrile city scenes, a special nod must also surely go to Svart Records. Mainstays of the wider Finnish psych world – and perennial Roadburn favourites – Svart were originally known for putting out beautiful reprints of black and doom metal rarities and classics (think Candlemass, Reverend Bizarre, Katatonia etc), before moving into more left field waters and signing bands from the wonderfully fertile and wonky late noughties Tampere scene.

With some of the most beautiful natural country in the world and an ancient history steeped in folklore and magical myth and legend, it’s no accident that music from this corner of the world is so often underpinned by a palpably ancient bearing: one that emphasises whimsical melody and haunting, circling, folk inflected riffs. Hexvessel are a perfect case in point. Long time Roadburn favourites, last year saw the release of one of their finest LP’s thus far in the shape of the ethereal Kindred. Driven by acoustic instrumentation and frontman Mat McNerney’s understated, melodically astute delivery, it’s a beautiful, foreboding record that speaks of forest rites and transcendent beauty in the failing light of dusk. Bog Bodies was particularly magical, patient finger picking and saxophone bedding down a story of an ancient body – a victim of sacrifice – appearing to the air once more, while opener Billion Year Old Being moved from ethereal acoustics to wild, fuzzy freak out in the space of seven minutes: total killer.

If Hexvessel are grounded by the earth, however – the mulch and mud; the twisted ancient tree roots – label mates Kairon; IRSE! are of the stars. Responsible for some of the wildest sounds in the global psych cannon, they meld electronic flourishes, understated vocals and a massive, juddering, post rock-esque wall of sound guitar tone. It’s a bewitching brew, heard to fine effect on the dense miasma of Polysomn – a record that sounds as if My Bloody Valentine had somehow stumbled through a timewarp and ended up jamming with Hawkwind at a free festival in 1976 – jangling guitars, elfin chants and frequent blasts of fuzz emanating from the warm speaker stacks.

Keeping things Nordic, a final note looking forward to the soon to be released second DJINN LP on Rocket, Transmission. Named after the North African supernatural deities that sit somewhere between good and evil, and featuring members of the wider Goat/Hills family, DJINN are a wild, free jazz-inflected combo who combine easy grooves, handheld percussion, wild sax and hallucinatory arrangements: proper head music that calls to mind the soundtrack to the requisite ‘acid scene’ in some crackling, long-lost 1970s biker movie. If the tracks heard from the album so far – Creator of Creation in particular – are anything to go by the album will be a treat; lounge music for a giant Zeppelin in the sky, mushroom tea served from a gleaming golden urn; the long haired, giant goggled captain lost amidst the clouds, as the sky turns a multi coloured hue… keep on truckin’.

ONES TO WATCH

Shem – Top draw, hypnotic krautrock flavours from Stuttgart. The just-released Shem II is a cracker, full-on astral motorik groove with a beat that goes on (and on) and spectral drones drifting atop like some rusting outer orbit chunk of space debris.

Cancervo – New Sardinian trio who specialise in downtuned, instrumental stoner gear. Their debut LP is a wall of mesmeric thrum inspired by the mountain from which their name derives, and the folklore associated with it: specifically a mythical half dog/half deerfigure said to prowl

Mong Tong – Taiwanese retro-focused, synth-inflected gear that carries a strong, freaky, 1980s straight-to-VHS soundtrack vibe. Beatles, creeped out, compelling. Their debut LP Mystery came out last year on Gurgurubrain Records – it’s simple, spacious, atmospheric stuff with plenty of reverb-laden guitars and satisfying aquiline bleeps and pings.

One of the best things about working in music is that you can spend several nights a week watching live music and get away with calling it work. Or at least, that used to be the case. It’s been just about 14 months now since I last attended a live show. An unused ticket to Sleater Kinney still sits on my desk – a show I passed up, ironically, because I was too busy working on Roadburn in the run up to what should have been the 2020 edition.

I look back at the shows I used to attend, the shows I used to take for granted, and I can barely imagine being back there. Aside from the close proximity to people, the sensory overload feels like it might just be too much to bear – for a while at least. For me, the day that I am back in the Soup Kitchen in Manchester – and it doesn’t feel weird – will be a day worth celebrating. No doubt it would be the same for Walter, in dB’s in Utrecht. No doubt it will be the same for you, in whatever your local small venue is.

But shows in tiny bars, gigs in beautiful rooms, concerts in huge venues – that’s where so much inspiration comes from, for Roadburn and beyond. And without live music, we’ve had to turn to other means to seek out new bands. The internet, I mean the internet: online is where our voyage of discovery has taken us. To a place where bands may only exist in 2D but they are still capable of creating a technicolour, all consuming experience.

Whilst we always like to think we have our ear to the ground when it comes to new music, there’s no doubt we’ve had to strain a little harder to hear what’s good these last twelve months or so. We miss being able to see bands in their natural habitat, in full bloom; that’s how you can so often get the true measure of a band. But in lieu of that, we’ve done our best to keep up in an all-digital world and have pulled together a few recommendations of bands we think you may like, and might even give you cause to will along the return of normality just a little bit harder.

— Becky

KNOLL:

Knoll was brought to my attention by Becky – and I knew they’d be a great fit for Roadburn Redux, but more than that, I knew they’d be a great live band to see (when circumstances allow). They’ve infused grindcore with death metal in a way that’s intense beyond measure. If the company someone keeps is a sign of their character then it may be helpful to know that their debut album, Interstice, was mixed by Kurt Ballou, and the album artwork handled by Ethan Lee McCarthy. Worth checking out.

— Walter

SURUT:

We’ve always got our eye on Finland! They churn out stellar bands at a rate of knotts like it’s no big deal. I’ve not seen Surut in magazines yet, and – obviously – I’ve not seen them live, so I can only assume they’re still Finland’s best kept secret. They’re working on a debut full length, but for now, there’s a self titled EP and I definitely recommend giving over half an hour of your time to check them out if you like anything vaguely post-hardcore-ish.

— Becky

SLIFT:

To keep things psychedelic and noisy, France’s Slift has also put out one of the most exhilarating and hypnotic albums of last year. With the sprawling Ummon under their belt, the band is reshaping space rock into a futuristic whatnot, and were poised to blow many a club or festival to cosmic shreds – COVID-19 had other plans, unfortunately. Let’s keep our highs up for Slift to conquer the galaxy as soon as possible. They are the future of heavy psych!

— Walter

DIVIDE AND DISSOLVE

Featured a few times on our Roadburn playlist, and championed in both mainstream alternative and metal publications alike, Divide and Dissolve may seem like an unusual inclusion – they’re not much of a secret. There’s no doubt that this band rules on record, but something tells me that their live performance would be just as distinctive and evocative. I hope they make it round to this side of the globe sooner rather than later; I personally firmly believe they belong on a Roadburn stage, but at this point, I’d be thrilled to welcome them to my back garden if only to see them play live.

— Becky

ACID ROOSTER:

Flying their freak flag for many moons, Germany’s Acid Rooster only released their much acclaimed S/T debut last year, and not to exaggerate — it’s one of the best contemporary psych records around. Unfortunately, they were halted in their tracks like everyone else, and they’re one more reason we can’t wait for the world to open up. Acid Rooster need to catapult us into orbit in a maelstrom of psychedelic flavors, whether it’s blistering guitar pyrotechnics or the downtempo check-ins with your consciousness, generated on stage and in front of a live audience.

— Walter

SUNROT:

This is not a new band, but this is a great band – and one that’s been on my radar for a while. However, whilst lockdown has been stifling for some, it has turned Sunrot into a prolific hit machine… if you consider a 13 minute guided meditation a hit. Which I do. There’s something inspiring and invigorating about a band who forge a path towards doing exactly what they want to do, exactly how they want to do it. It’s why we jumped at the chance to premiere a track of theirs this weekend, and it’s why they appear on this list – keep your eye on them.

— Becky

POLYMOON:

Embracing the weird and the wonderful, Polymoon proved that Tampere (FIN) is still a hotbed of creativity with the release of Caterpillars of Creation, easily one of the best psych albums of 2020. Their prog psych explosion in technicolour also took Roadburn Redux into hyperspace, and we can’t wait for Polymoon to take us further down the rabbit hole… uh… down the road.

— Walter

KARENIA BREVIS:

With influences that tick many of my boxes (think Broadcast, Emily Haines, Grouper), and the associated pedigree of their work with Thou, this release from KC Stafford under the moniker Karenia Brevis is one to keep your ear on. The release is an ethereal beauty and a ‘celebration of the feminine divine’. There’s no physical release (yet) and not much out there on social media, so if this one does make it out into the spotlight, maybe you can say you heard about it here first.

— Becky

If there’s one writer that can get the best out of their interviewee it’s Cody F. Davis. We knew that there would be no-one better to dive into the brand new Mizmor track that we’re premiering later this weekend. It’s a long read, because that’s what Cody does best, and Mizmor’s A.L.N. has a lot to tell… so grab yourself a cuppa (or something stronger, we don’t judge) and immerse yourself in the inner workings of Wit’s End.

The world has greatly changed since the last time you and I spoke about your music. How has creating and crafting Mizmor’s music changed in isolation compared to when you were writing and recording Cairn?

A.L.N.: “That’s a good question. One thing that’s changed is I have collaborated with another artist. Andrew Black and I released a record called Dialetheia in November that was done through file-sharing, which was a whole new process for me – both the collaboration aspect in general, and recording and writing an album while apart.

“I’ve done that and I kind of have some sketches with another collaborator doing the same thing right now. I’ve also done more of my traditional style where I’ve just done everything myself. Being isolated at the house isn’t too different from what I was already doing. This piece, Wit’s End, is a piece that I’ve also made during this time just at home by myself.

“But I have been influenced thematically by the pandemic and people’s reaction to it. That has been a thought-provoking thing for me to reflect on. It’s been inspiring, I suppose.”

It gives you some different source material to work from in addition to the collaboration that you’ve done with Andrew already. How does either the collaboration with Andrew and what you’re working on presently, as well as your response to the pandemic, influence this new track Wit’s End.

A.L.N.: “Wit’s End is conceptual but not quite as singularly focused as Cairn was. There are a few things worked into it. But as far as the pandemic’s influence on it, I’ve been inspired by—I mean, it’s the pandemic but it’s also just kind of society at large right now and where we’re headed as a people. I’ve been inspired by, at large, how eager and willing the masses are to embrace misinformation, disinformation, cultism, conspiracy theories, and religiosity.

“A sense of there being a vetting process for determining facts—what is true and false—has completely split in two. I feel like everyone around me is at wit’s end in this sense. There’s no reason anymore in people’s brains and how or what they determine to be true. Just seeing how, at least in America, everyone has reacted to the pandemic, has kind of got me scratching my head.”

Very much so. Seeing how the last year is really unfolded has been very eye-opening, to say the least. It really is quite interesting to see, like you mentioned, how people are latching onto whatever truth they want to manifest.

How do these observations and your vision of what’s going on with pandemic apply to the Fermi Paradox and this idea of The Great Filter, which you also have mentioned is a source for Wit’s End?

A.L.N.: “They both, to me, relate to consciousness, which is kind of the broad theme of what the song is about. It essentially states with what we know about life and processes through the science of the Earth and the universe, the galaxies should be populated, and life should be everywhere.

“There’s a rift between that and there being any substantial evidence that we have already made contact with alien life. I know lots of people believe that we have, but canonically speaking in terms of good, solid evidence, we need to explain why we haven’t already come into contact with extraterrestrials since life should be everywhere.

“The Great Filter is the answer to that paradox. It says, ‘if what’s happening on this planet is happening everywhere in the universe, then something in that process must be difficult.

“Whether that’s abiogenesis—the initial formation of life—or the evolution of that life into a more complex, multicellular life then on to conscious, intelligent beings, and then having enough resources to make it off the planet to another planet. There’s a list of processes that would happen for that to take place and people theorize as to what is the unlikely thing.

“My own take on it, in sort of the science-fiction sense, is I think The Great Filter is consciousness. Not that it is hard for beings to become aware and conscious, but that consciousness has certain self-destructive inherent properties to it that would essentially cause the life-form to self-destruct due to their self-interest before ever being able to make it off the planet.

“That is definitely the biggest inspiration for Wit’s End. Consciousness is not some ethereal, eternal, metaphysical, or otherwise special and unique property. It’s ultimately just a product of physics and biochemistry and it will, like everything else, unravel one day as the universe continues to expand and comes to an end way, way, way, way far in the future.

“It’s kind of a reaction to so many religions and worldviews really having this grandiose idea of mankind and the spirit and the soul and that kind of language. I just think none of that stuff is real at all.

“I don’t know that it directly relates to what we were talking about before, but I see some crossover with where we’re headed as a people and where our own consciousness has got us and how it seems like we would rather believe in things that make us feel good than things that are true. We would rather reject the evidence of climate change for example, and we’re probably headed to a place where our planet can’t sustain us anymore and that would be our fault. That’s what could be the pattern for intelligent conscious life elsewhere in the universe.”

You mentioned climate change, and you can even look at it on an individual level with some of the ways people are handling the pandemic. There’s this almost grandiose view, this self-exception to the world around them. They think, “Oh, this doesn’t apply to me…”

But I think a lot of people do forget we are ultimately matter – we’re mass. We’re subjected to entropy and the laws of thermodynamics. With the pandemic and seeing this acceptance of false information or occultism or religion, do you think it’s a product of people grappling with mortality, or are we seeing people’s distinct lack of rationality in full frame because of this?

A.L.N.: “It’s hard to say. I think at a base level, if we look back in time, superstition starts with people grappling with mortality. That’s a huge part of it, but for this moment in time, I think that the internet and social media have really accelerated this problem of, ‘I see something and it’s automatically true. It fits with my narrative in my echo chamber, and I want it to be true. I choose to believe it.

“We’re all living in a fractured reality in that sense. It’s really disappointing to see the scientific method and such a thing as facts become a matter of opinion or subjectivity. I think it’s probably always been there under the surface, but it seems to be really exacerbated by how immediately connected we all are with sharing our ideas. I just see us as getting a lot stupider, for lack of a better word, with technology and all of these ideas at our fingertips.

“If you’re already a person that is religious or involved in a cult or just has that frame of mind that would put you in one of those groups already—a faith-based person—then they sky’s the limit of what you’ll believe.”

That’s a great point. Systems like religions and cults already have a distinct lack of emphasis on solid research and strong evidence so all it takes is a cousin on Facebook or their pastor at church to say, “COVID is the work of Satan or people in Asia…”

This can kind of tie back into the Fermi Paradox as well, right? There is a distinct lack of evidence for extraterrestrial beings as it pertains to the Fermi Paradox. It mirrors the lack of evidence as it pertains to other things despite people’s willful claims for other beliefs. Is this the kind of connection that you’re trying to make with these two ideas?

A.L.N.: “Kind of. There’s definitely a parallel there. I think more the connection is that I see people’s inability to use basic reason and logic and value strong evidence as being something that’s going to help us self-destruct faster.

“It starts with consciousness which seems inherently self-interested. We come online and become aware of this user interface that is ultimately a survival machine, then we become cognizant of it all and it seems to go in this direction to aid us in our own survival. As it continues on, we get more memes stuffed in our brain, develop language, and more intelligence and technology. Instead of us coming to a more enlightened position about our place in the country, the Earth, and the cosmos, it seems to bring us to the opposite—into a more fractured xenophobic tribalistic superstitious place.

“I don’t know if there’s any real link there. It’s kind of science-fictiony, but it’s just my reflection on where we’re headed.

“I think it’s probably not hard for life to start on a planet and if there were something to be getting in the way of making contact with life on another planet, it would just be ourselves. Which I relate to consciousness. Whether it’s because there’s a lack of resources because we mined them all for ourselves or whether it’s us killing each other in a war, there just seems to be something self-destructive about where consciousness goes.”

Shifting to the track itself and keeping in mind that idea of consciousness, Wit’s End opens with a spoken-word sample over some clean guitar chords. It encapsulates the message that you’re delivering with this song. Where does the sample at the beginning of the track come from, and how do you think it bolsters the impact of Wit’s End?

A.L.N.: “Well, the sample is actually me. I tried really hard to produce it in such a way that it sounded like a sample. I feel like the spoken part is really speaking to my frustration of watching people’s reaction to the pandemic and embracing conspiracy theories; having myself come from the greater part of a 10 year journey away from that kind of mindset to a place that values science, reason, and evidence that is ultimately atheistic.

“It’s been such a long journey that I finally got to the other side of, and then I look around and a large part of the population is totally going in the other direction. Maybe this is just a little setback on the otherwise upward trajectory of our morality as a species. But right now, it’s just really upsetting that so many other people don’t share these values that I’ve worked so hard to cultivate.

“o, that first part is just kind of my emotional reaction to people and faith. The second part, the heavier part with all the screaming, those lyrics are more about the cosmic stuff.”

What were your goals to marry your thematic ideas to your arrangements? What were you hoping to encapsulate with the musical side of it?

A.L.N.: “It’s kind of multifaceted with the Wit’s End theme. In one sense, it’s about consciousness cosmically coming to an end. In another sense, it’s about the masses becoming stupider and stupider, and in a third sense, it’s about me reacting to the masses and myself not being able to comprehend what’s going on.

“That third thing is where I’m emotionally writing from—me being at wit’s end. Watching people have no reason and logic anymore all in this system that eventually will come to nothingness anyway. It’s kind of three layers of wits ending. I just felt this depressing weight of the world and people’s reaction to, say, the pandemic, but really that’s just a catalyst for some of this stuff.

“I just feel so exasperated, exhausted, and disappointed by where we’re at as a country and a planet. Musically, the first part with the clean guitars and the spoken word is building tension. The heavy part is just releasing those negative emotions.”

So how does Wit’s End fit into the trajectory of Mizmor? You’ve previously mentioned following Cairn, new music subject matter may begin to take a different approach than it has historically. Is this a turning point for where you’re going to take some of your music going forward?

A.L.N.: “I think so. I think a big difference between Wit’s End and Cairn is that although I’m still writing from my perspective and reflecting on things and feeling emotional, I’m not writing about myself right now and my experience which is what Mizmor has been about up until this point. My emotions and thoughts as I struggle with my worldview and ideology changing. I said that to you in that interview about Cairn because I thought that album had a lot of finality to it, and I felt a lot of healing. I came to this place where I didn’t really need to explore that anymore.

“So now what I’m finding, thinking about, and feeling about are bigger issues. Writing about things that affect all of humanity—it’s still kind of centered around religion and I doubt that I’ll ever fully escape that—but it’s not this “me, me, me” thing anymore. Now, I’m just reflecting on what seems like bigger things that still affect me and inspire me, but I don’t really have the personal work to do anymore that I was previously expressing on those other albums.

“Another thing is the collaboration with Andrew, Dialetheia, even though that didn’t have lyrics, we still conceptualised on what it was about with each other. That was also kind of about consciousness and reacting to the pandemic, feeling really nostalgic and sad. I think I’m kind of a little bit fascinated by consciousness and that could also be a topic that I continue to explore.”

For Cairn, you referenced Camus and The Myth of Sisyphus a lot. Is there any reading or material that you’ve been looking into that’s directed towards consciousness?

A.L.N.: “Yeah, definitely. Nothing that directly inspired the music like with Cairn, but I read this book called Consciousness Explained by Daniel Dennett. That book was from the 90s. He’s a philosopher, but he draws heavily on science—physics, chemistry, biology, the whole thing. It sets out to explain the phenomenon of consciousness from a materialist point of view and dispel the myth of the Cartesian theater—the ghost in the machine, the sort of leftover idea of the soul or the immaterial self that sits inside your head and thinks your thoughts and feels your emotions. That’s all really an illusion.

“So, I read a few books like that. There is another one he wrote called From Bacteria to Bach and Back: The Evolution of Minds. Waking Up by Sam Harris is a very good book that is about consciousness and also mainly about meditation.”

What are you hoping listeners and attendees of Roadburn Redux will take away from Wit’s End?

A.L.N.: “I’m hoping that honestly they just think it’s heavy. The spoken lyrics in the first part are more intelligible than the screaming typically is for people. So, I hope that there’s some food for thought in the words that can be immediately discerned and that it will speak to the moment for some people and maybe help others feel a little relief over similar frustrations that they have.”

Is there anyone or any performance that you’re looking forward to during Roadburn? Anything on your radar?

A.L.N.: “Yeah, I’ve seen that Primitive Man is also premiering some new music and I’m really looking forward to hearing that. I’ll probably watch a handful of things but I myself and not huge into the live set livestream which is why I’m doing this approach myself. So, I’m definitely excited to see the Primitive Man premiere and I think that’ll be fun to hear.”

Down below are the raw ideas that would become the lyrics of the song, scrawled over the course of a few months whilst inspiration was brewing.

Arguably the modern era’s most potent purveyor of Krautrock and its attendant sub-strains, producer and songwriter Sebastian Lee Philip has struck sonic gold with Die Wilde Jagd. Using a host of willing collaborators to travel as far as possible into the modern psych firmament, the band’s 2020 album Haut is a flat-out modern masterpiece, and the perfect transportive antidote to the past year’s real world ugliness. At Roadburn Redux, Sebastian and his fellow psychedelic companions will once again be in pursuit of that exhilarating higher plane of musical enlightenment.

— Dom Lawson

How have you adapted to our weird new reality over the last year? Any new challenges, in terms of being creative?

“I feel that I’ve been fairly lucky in the sense that I always had my studio, my gear and ideas to retreat to. While I did miss the touring and traveling that was supposed to take place after the release of Haut in April 2020, I was still able to create new music and focus on producing and mixing other artists in my Berlin-based studio. Besides working on music, I also got more into video work, developing an audio-visual piece called Haut Ontogenesis for the Hebbel am Ufer theatre in Berlin. At the end of 2020, I received the exciting invitation to write a commission piece for this upcoming Roadburn Redux edition. I have since dedicated my time to evolving and rehearsing it with my musicians. This has kept me motivated through the winter. I love developing ideas from scratch, getting lost in that universe of forming thoughts.”

What can you tell us about your forthcoming Roadburn performance?

“Both performances – the Haut album show and the commission piece Atem – will be complete premieres, for the audience but also for myself. For the first time since playing live with the project, I’m including a third musician on stage: besides my drummer Ran Levari, Lih Qun Wong will be playing the cello and singing vocal parts. The songs from Haut have never been played live before, in fact there are certain songs on the album I had not planned to ever play live. But when Roadburn asked me if I’d be up for performing the album in full, I couldn’t resist the challenge.
“For the commission piece Atem, I decided to use the opportunity to apply different creative approaches in terms of instrumentation and composition techniques. The word Atem in German means breath. Breath is something I have been thinking about a lot in the past year. Hearing people talk about the popular ‘Wim Hof breathing method’ led me down a path of research about the science of breathing, our metabolism, physical and mental health and also the spiritual side of it. I started to link pace, dynamics, fluctuations, rhythm, and the transcendental properties of breathing to musical elements that I am always interested in exploring in my productions. In the Atem composition, I want to create musical connections between the different ‘layers’ of breath: the one that transcends time and space, the one our metabolic system uses in order to create existence and consciousness, and the layer of the actual manifestation of that existence – the self, the ego, life and experiences. To me, the piece is at the core a celebration of life and the wonders – some explained, many not – that make it happen.”

What does Roadburn mean to you, as creative people and on a personal level?

“Believe it or not, I had not heard of Roadburn before being invited to play the festival in 2020. When I mentioned the festival to some of my friends, they were in absolute awe about the fact I was going to play there, claiming It was one of their favourite yearly music events. When I checked the previous editions, I noticed that many artists I love had played there: Boris, Diamanda Galás, Psychic TV, Michael Rother, Killing Joke, Swans, Earth. It’s an honour to be joining this impressive list. I love the fact that Roadburn has a very distinctive identity and is yet very open to sounds and artists from different genres. There is this core common ground, but still a diverse and fresh mix of styles. I developed a friendly bond with Walter Hoeijmakers in the course of the production of the commission piece, and I have a lot of respect for the decision to go ahead with this year’s edition of the festival, considering all the challenges and difficulties that come with organising a festival during the pandemic.”

What are your hopes and plans for the (hopefully post-pandemic) future?

“My main hope is that everyone stays sane and keeps striving for a good life that respects their own personal development and that of the world around them. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to realise what one actually wants in this life – it’s easy to fall into a rabbit hole of suggested dreams that result in anxiousness and a seemingly healing remedy in meaningless entertainment and consumerism. I think that more than ever it’s important to feel the urge to learn, to discover, to change, to progress… and to breathe.”

What else are you looking forward to experiencing during Roadburn Redux?

“Just the whole experience of playing a show… driving there, carrying stuff, playing, meeting other people and checking out the other artists is something I’m really looking forward to experiencing again. My mother is Dutch and I spent a large part of my youth in Holland – it’ll be great to be back again, speak the language, and enjoy the Roadburn vibes to the fullest.”

Die Wilde Jagd will perform Atem on Friday 16 April and Haut in full (Saturday 17 April) as part of Roadburn Redux.

Ethan Lee McCarthy is the musical embodiment of sheer force of will. The Primitive Man frontman and sole force behind Many Blessings, McCarthy has spent his entire musical career creating unrelenting, abrasive art and, at this point, he makes no bones it.

In their near-decade as a band, Primitive Man have consistently pushed the boundary of heaviness in extreme music. On 2017’s Caustic, the trio created a sonic boulder that they rolled over the listener at will; underneath walls of feedback is a constant push-pull dynamic, moving the mass just before it becomes overwhelming or one-sided. Primitive Man replicated that feat on last year’s Immersion, delving further into the science of crafting heavy music while also cutting down on album runtime, delivering the same demoralising music in a more compact form.

Many Blessings represents the more experimental side of McCarthy’s musical output, using noise as the baseline for his releases, which vary from harsh and static-ridden (Trauma Artistry) to cinematic and slow burning (Emanation Body). There are similarities to Primitive Man beyond simply noise roots, namely the ebb and flow of the soundscapes, but the two projects stand independently.

Despite the 2021 edition of Roadburn being the least orthodox incarnation of the festival’s 22-year existence, the circumstances didn’t change anything for McCarthy in terms of songwriting or presentation.

“I’m always going to strive to try to do what I want, no matter what the circumstances,” says McCarthy, who has used the situation as an extended break from touring. “I know a lot of people felt demoralised and wanted to give up during this time, and I understand those feelings and I have felt those things, but you just can’t. Because it’s going to end some day and if I were to stop doing the things that I was doing, what a fucking waste of time.”

In the same way, the pandemic and its related quarantine haven’t made their way directly into the songs that Primitive Man and Many Blessings performed for Roadburn, McCarthy says.
“It’s just present there because that’s the time period that the songs and ideas were made,” he elaborates. “It’s the time period that these problems that I’m speaking on were happening, but it’s really a backseat topic to the rest.”

He acknowledges that performing at Roadburn is a prestigious invitation, but there is zero compromise in McCarthy’s vision. Primitive Man will again be one of the festival’s heaviest bands and they plan to deliver nothing less than expected: a set that is both deafeningly heavy and thoughtfully executed.

Whether it’s best defined as stubbornness or insanity, that uncompromising drive defines both acts debuting new music at Roadburn Redux.

“I exist in spite of everything that’s going on,” McCarthy reflects. “I create in spite of everything that’s going on.”

— Vince Bellino

At Roadburn, there is seldom a shortage of music that defies description, but Neptunian Maximalism exist in a sonic realm several steps beyond that. Last year’s extraordinary Éons album invited listeners into an entirely alien and exhilarating new world of sound, where ancient and ritual percussions and atmospherics collide with a densely lysergic strain of avant-garde doom, scorched-earth free jazz and an irresistible fog of tweaked-out spirituality. Unleashed on a stage, the possibilities for this utterly unique and amorphous ensemble are limitless. The Belgians’ Roadburn Redux set is guaranteed to be a life-changer.

— Dom Lawson

How have you adapted to our weird new reality over the last year? Any new challenges, in terms of being creative?

“Well, initially there was no real plan because the release of our album Éons was already planned before the lockdown. In addition to the many cancelled dates for some rather unique shows, we focused our energy on the idea of ​​doing more studio work. But it was definitely complicated, because some of our members are already in their 60s and must be careful! So we decided to take a break until Walter offered to let us play at Roadburn. We then spent three months working hard to prepare a new set. In the meantime, we are trying out recording sessions with different members. Basically, we split the entire orchestra to generate sub-groups and develop future songs as well. Otherwise, the pandemic gives me the time to go into more depth in the practice and theory of Indian music, which will strongly feed the rest, but with subtlety.”

What can you tell us about your forthcoming Roadburn performance? And what does Roadburn mean to you, as creative people and on a personal level?

“For us it is extraordinary! I always dreamt of going to Roadburn, but every time my studies or my job made it impossible. For us it is an immense honour and a real recognition, which is heartwarming. We took this chance and pushed our limits to offer something live that technically we were not yet capable of. In Neptunian Maximalism, there are members still in their 20s, some very young practitioners of their instruments, up to members in their 60s whose instrumental practice is mastered, and its language developed. In three months, it’s a titanic job for seven to nine members to work on more intense and complex rhythms, more dynamics, more changes. In addition to rehearsals, it was necessary to train certain members behind the scenes to assemble a global choir. But we remain dependent on our limits despite everything (for example, our rehearsals are currently again amputated because of the new restrictions while we are approaching full finalisation). What we do will therefore be the best we could do with what was given to us. It may not be perfect, but the work and the heart will be there! Improv will do the rest, as usual. Oh, and we will be releasing a new live album, Solar Drone Ceremony on vinyl and DVD via I, Voidhanger Records on the day of the show. If you want more after the Roadburn show, go on Bandcamp for a full stream!”

Can you tell us about your favourite past experience(s) of Roadburn? Were there any shows that had a strong impact?

“Personally, having never been there, I rely on YouTube videos and live albums on Bandcamp. I can easily say that I have listened to Bong’s three shows at Roadburn a good 50 times! I love to share Mysticum’s video with my friends when they think they’ve seen it all in terms of a completely crazy live show. I regret so much that I couldn’t attend the Sleep concert when they played Dopesmoker. And so many others…”

What are your hopes and plans for the (hopefully post-pandemic) future?

“We hope for nothing, because as I usually say, while hope withered, the action bloomed. So we act in the present. If there is a concert, we are up for it! If it’s cancelled, okay, we keep moving forward on something else. Clearly the idea is to prepare a new studio album, which will take us one year or more. We have a lot of line-up ideas, collabs, theory to put into practice, improv laboratory workshops to train other members in autonomy and personal language in improvised music, and our personal projects, of course.”

What else are you looking forward to experiencing during Roadburn Redux?

“Unity for the group, to unite and strengthen our links, both human and artistic. Also, to help to be discovered, because some of us try to make a living from music, and what happens to us here helps a lot. And finally, to take up a perpetual challenge: the approach of the metal genre and doom through improvised music revealing the Anarchist character that occupies the minds of the members of the group and aims for each of us to achieve a certain freedom of artistic language, so that eventually there is the possibility of working and playing shows without direction. That may seem to be a Utopian ideal, but Anarchy has never hidden itself from its Utopian character: it asserts itself more as being a horizon line, a point of aim to be reached. This show will therefore be one of the many opportunities to show that regardless of age, level of practice, gender, origin, or musical influences, we can create together something that is intriguing and fascinating.”

Neptunian Maximalism will perform Set Chaos To The Heart of The Moon on Saturday 17 April at 1.00 CEST

It takes a vision of some distinction to stand out amid an unerringly over-populated black metal scene. Gelderland (NL) iconoclasts Solar Temple made it look easy with their 2018 debut album, Fertile Descent: a kaleidoscopic, deep-dive grimoire with atmosphere, melody and a chewable sense of spectral dread, it defied extreme metal’s in-built conservatism and conjured a sonic world with no boundaries beyond an intuitive devotion to the dark. At Roadburn Redux, Solar Temple look destined to up the pitch-black, transcendental ante even further.

— Dom Lawson

How have you adapted to our weird new reality over the last year? Any new challenges, in terms of being creative?

“Adaptation is both extremely hard and tiring, as well as tedious and boring. Our society is somehow able to not deal with it at all in any serious capacity, not use it as some kind of call for behavioural change or solidarity, but simultaneously force us into a kind of unprecedented social control and have us place ultimate faith in what capitalism can do for the world. A proper discovery of what this time will do for culture as a whole will only become visible in the years to come. For us personally, not much has changed since we are pretty introverted in our creative endeavours anyway. All tours and festivals are cancelled of course, which is terrible for myriad reasons, but our personal creative vision does not have its roots in a live setting: the question of how our vision could be brought to a stage is a secondary priority. In this band’s case, it’s not even a question we would ask ourselves because we did not think we would perform under this moniker live, ever.”

What can you tell us about your forthcoming Roadburn performance?

“The performance will be a very interesting and unique setting. Anybody that has followed our projects throughout the years might be familiar with our long-time collaboration as a duo or part of a larger unit on a lot of records and projects. But for the first time ever we will translate this working relationship into a live setting. We tried to push ourselves to musical horizons that we have touched or hinted at before, but now try to fully embrace and indeed give ourselves over to a deeper instinctual urge. It would be a mistake to claim we have left our black metal roots behind, but rather that we will try to evoke a similar sense of mysticism by delving deeper into the experimental and primitive roots that the progenitors of the genre were big fans of as well.”

What does Roadburn mean to you, as creative people and on a personal level?

“It’s pretty safe to state that Roadburn has meant a lot to anybody involved in heavy music in this part of the world, and especially the Netherlands. We are no exception. We have been so lucky to have played this festival a number of times before the pandemic and it has always been magical. The last live edition in 2019 we performed with several bands under the moniker Maalstroom, and it has been a great catalyst for a lot of creative energy and collaboration and friendship.”

Can you tell us about your favourite past experience(s) of Roadburn? Were there any shows that had a strong impact?

“Boris playing Absolutego with Stephen O’Malley in 2018, David Tibet with Hypnopazuzu in 2017, and Yob playing Catharsis in 2012. Those shows were absolutely transcendental live experiences and could probably only happen at Roadburn in this exact state of mind.”

What are your hopes and plans for the (hopefully post-pandemic) future?

“Our hopes are that our world will finally realise its destructive path, and try to make amends for the cosmic demons it has unleashed, that are increasingly haunting every pore and sinew of our reality. But those hopes will inevitably be shattered by the crushing monotony of our current historical juncture. All we can actually hope is that there will indeed be any post-pandemic future.”

What else are you looking forward to experiencing during Roadburn Redux?

“We will probably not be experiencing a lot because there is no possibility to see any other acts perform live, and before and after our own show we won’t have a lot of time to put on streams and sit back and relax to properly watch a performance. But we are very excited about Neptunian Maximalism and anything our friends of Dead Neanderthals have in store for us. Hopefully we are able to glimpse some of their brilliance through our new digitised reality.”

Solar Temple will perform The Great Star Above Provides as part of Roadburn Redux on Saturday 17 April at 17.00 CEST.

One of Europe’s most enigmatic and adventurous bands, Wolvennest have already passed into Roadburn legend after a packed-out debut foray in 2017 and then an astonishing performance of debut album Void in 2019. This year, despite current circumstances, the Belgian mavericks are poised to bring their brand new album, the wild and immersive Temple, vividly to life. Steeped in the dark side of psychedelia and audibly driven by otherworldly insight and horrors unseen, Wolvennest are an irresistible bad trip made flesh.

— Dom Lawson

How have you adapted to our weird new reality over the last year? Any new challenges, in terms of being creative?

Corvus (guitar): “Adapted? As everybody, we deal with it, but I don’t see how musicians could totally adapt. You can use the free time to develop musical skills and go deeper into writing, mixing etc, but at the end, you put a point in your calendar with a live goal. That last part is not happening right now for 99% of musicians. So, you have to fight the ‘What’s the point?’ feeling we all have here and there. On a personal level, I went deeper into midi editing, how to record vocals correctly, how to create weirder sounds, that kind of thing. I surely learned a lot, but always with the goal that live music will be a real thing in the future. I don’t want every musician to turn into a YouTube shred warrior, there were plenty enough before the world stopped.”

What can you tell us about your forthcoming Roadburn performance?

“The Commission work is something special that includes aspects we would probably not do under the Wolvennest banner. It’s a little more violent and dark, I would say. We got several guests who were crazy enough to say, ‘Fuck yes, let’s do it!’ That gives us strength. And Temple will be fully performed, with Thousand Lost Civilizations bringing new visuals. I know they spent countless hours working on that. I’m curious to see the result, and by that I mean to feel the result while we will perform. They have total freedom and the best way to respect that is to discover it while playing.”

What does Roadburn mean to you, as creative people and on a personal level?

“Expect the unexpected’. Roadburn always brings weird surprises, joy and collaborations, and we are happy to be a little part of it. On a human level, Roadburn was, is and will be a place where you just feel good. Shitloads of people are there to have fun, listen to good music and meet people from all around the world. You walk in the street, you have a chat, you laugh hard and then you realise you just missed a band you absolutely wanted to see. We all experienced that at Roadburn!”

Can you tell us about your favourite past experience(s) of Roadburn? Were there any shows that had a strong impact?

“Mysticum, for sure: one of the best visual experiences when it comes to black metal. Cold, harsh, mechanic. It was a frenetic descent into madness, and a perfect performance from start to finish. I would also put on the top of my list Aluk Todolo and The Ruins Of Beverast [performing Exuvia], in a packed Green Room. You can experience those bands in a small venue with an aggressive vibe, but it’s another thing when they both benefit from a stellar sound.”

What are your hopes and plans for the (hopefully post-pandemic) future?

“Live shows mean freedom, and you can’t have that feeling with restriction, plain and simple. We’ll do the best we can to still offer something special here and there, but as everybody involved in live music, we are waiting. I don’t have faith in collective and individual intelligence, so I’m mentally prepared to wait for years before it becomes again what it used to be. We entered the data world, not only for health, but also for, for example, schools. What’s the next move? Covid should not be a Trojan horse. That scares me a lot. Is this all we are, data? My strongest hope is that the word ‘human’ will start to mean something positive again, not only for us, but for what’s around us as well. Concerning Wolvennest, we got our own studio, so we’ll always be able to create and experiment. Musically, the best can still happen, it depends on us.”

What else are you looking forward to experiencing during Roadburn Redux?

“First of all, I hope that the countless efforts of so many people involved will pay and will bring some joy for the ones who will watch it. It’s quite a challenge to prepare, but we did everything we could to make it happen in the best way possible. You can’t control everything, but if you give your very best, you’ll not have regrets. Restrictions are quite strict, so I’ll wait for a normal Roadburn for the memories and the beers in the street!”

Wolvennest (The Nest) will perform Her True Nature on Saturday at CEST, and Temple in full on Sunday at 20.40 CEST.