When I think about my own guitar playing and band activities at the current time, there are maybe five bands that form cornerstone influences on my sound and the way I like to do things. There are obviously others, but these are the headliners that I work outwards from.
They are: Elder; Weedpecker; Causa Sui; Colour Haze; and King Buffalo. Lots of guitars drenched in modulation and delay, lots of extended patterns, lots of drop-C, lots of absolute bliss in monolithic splendour. If I had my own band operating adequately (which it would be if I could either find a drummer or be in two places at once), it would probably remind some of the space between these bands.
King Buffalo hold a particularly special place in my heart – not just because of being such a phenomenal band, but because they were one of the things that came to the rescue when I was at my lowest. I was in hospital a few days after having suffered a brain haemorrhage, and I got an Instagram message from Scott Donaldson (KB’s drummer / promoter / manager) saying they’d enjoyed one of my old blog posts about them and wanted to give me press access to their new record. I still feel absolutely honoured and will always be grateful.
I was waiting for the vinyl to arrive for this one but decided to just crack on:
Moving on to the present day, Acheron is a sprawling heavy psych album that was recorded in a cave. It’s like someone read my mind while asking the question “what would be appropriate?”. A live recording (sans audience) was not what I was expecting, and the fact it was recorded live lends it the spaciousness and release you’d expect, but the tightness of this work reminds you fittingly of how precise and metronomic the band are.
There are many things I love about this band (and this album). One of them is that they conjure a vast and dense soundscape between the three of them, but while it gets big, it never goes anywhere near pretentious or overdone. It’s focused and trim, whilst being absolutely massive. It feels like “this is the sound we want, it’s comfortable and powerful, join us as we bask in it”. It feels like artists at the height of their powers but also somehow able to scale further, as I expect we’ll see in the future.
I enjoyed the slightly more mechanised overtones of the previous two works, Dead Star and The Burden of Restlessness (the former contains the anthem I hold in my head when entertaining frequent fantasies about overthrowing our corrupt, destructive government), but this makes a welcome return to a more organic feel. I’m a very big fan of the earth-lore imagery of the Orion LP and this feels like a nod back in that direction.
I have long forsaken heavy music that obsesses with aggression, negativity or gratuitous or cynical self-pity. My focus for now (and, I suspect, the rest of my life) is music that lands heavy (read: loud, cavernous, soaring, resonant and spacious in varying ratios) but with an emotional impact of optimism and respectfulness – sometimes approaching bliss. I only discovered such a thing was possible in the last few years. A comforting release – this is a loud record at times, but never an intimidating one.
Speaking of which, it only seemed to have something dark and cavernous to hand for this one.
Brewed not a million miles from me; a refreshingly straightforward and unfussy imperial stout. It’s always interesting to try these without any extra influences (adjuncts or barrel ageing) imposed on them – not that I am against these things; barrel ageing is indeed one of my favourite things in the whole world – but sometimes it’s good to see where the respective characters of beer and barrel demarcate.
Regardless – this is a 9% beer and I’ve never had an imperial that’s so easy to drink. Rich coffee and a hint of dark chocolate, but never acrid or harsh, and astoundingly smooth. The name and character are remarkably apt to sit alongside this record and augment without distracting. This is a pairing to sink into.
The Ale Album 