Moving now from one of heavy metal’s most celebrated champions to a hushed artist who calls her brand of music “Heaven metal” (but not in a Stryper way). Listening to Midwife’s output, it might seem like that tag is a joke. But while there isn’t anything obviously metallic (or even heavy) on Luminol, there are glints of sharpness glimmering in the muted, shoegazey atmospheres that betray a sensibility forged in the fires of heavy metal—and if you can’t tell by hearing, their place on the Flenser’s roster should fill you in.
doomgaze
Record #883: Holy Fawn – Dimensional Bleed (2022)
It’s hard to tell whether social media and streaming have been a net positive or negative for music in general. On the one hand, anyone with an internet connection and the most basic recording setup can distribute their music onto the internet within minutes. But on the other hand, it’s relegated musicians to the roles of Content Creators, requiring them to keep releasing a constant stream of new music to keep their audience’s attention.
But somehow, Holy Fawn has more or less managed to escape that trap. Their 2018 full-length Death Spells still feels as fresh and hype-worthy as it did when it first exploded across the internet. There were some other releases in their catalog—a 2015 EP that no one really paid attention to (myself until recently), a three-track EP in early 2020, and a couple remixes and covers, but Death Spells has remained the standard bearer for the band—and the entire heavy, moody shoegaze scene since, it seems .
I say all of this to point out that we didn’t need another Holy Fawn record. But damn, am I glad we got it, because Dimensional Bleed is proof that the Arizona quartet can conjure lightning to strike at least twice.
Record #876: Glassing – Spotted Horse (2019)
When I first heard Glassing a year or two ago, lauded especially by members of Holy Fawn, I listened to a single song before deciding it was too acerbic and abrasive for my tastes. I’m not sure what compelled me to give them a second chance months later, but the switch flipped instantly. I became obsessed with Twin Dream, playing it over and over until that single disc was no longer enough to satisfy my thirst. I bought the first copy of Light and Death I could find, but failed to find Spotted Horse anywhere.
That is, until last month when I received an email alerting me to a reissue, and the speed at which I ordered it might have set some sort of land speed record. And where I have previously lauded Twin Dream as a singular masterpiece that the earlier records merely reflect dimly, Painted Horse might only be weaker by a degree of decimals.
Record #871: Grivo – Omit (2022)
If you’ve been following my posts at all, you know that I have a fatal weakness for music that marries the heavy with the beautiful. I am powerless to resist just about any album that uses crushing volumes alongside gorgeous melodies and lush atmospheres (it’s kind of a problem, financially speaking).
Even though my record shelves are already stuffed full with such records, I am constantly on the hunt for more. Recently, I was trudging through Spotify’s “Fans Also Like” of bands I already love, and on Holy Fawn’s page, I discovered Grivo, a heavy shoegaze trio from Austin. I was instantly smitten, and when I went to show a friend who I knew would love it, I noticed that he had already sent it to me a few weeks prior.
But where Omit outshines so many albums with a similar ethos is in their glistening ambience, which is reminiscent more of dream pop bands like Cocteau Twins.
Record #866: Nadja – Luminous Rot (2021)
I’ve been fostering a love of heavy, weird music for a while now—you can probably blame Sunbather for kicking me down that hill. But in the last year or so that I’ve been writing for Tuned Up, I’ve mucked about through darker, grimier swamps than I had ever expected, and enjoyed it far more than I would have ever thought.
One of the murkier records that I’ve fallen in love with in that time is Luminous Rot from the long-running drone/doomgaze duo Nadja. From first blush, it can feel oppressive and impenetrable, but there’s a tension between the thick, sludgy instrumentation and the almost tender songwriting that makes for an engaging listen.
Record #863: Mountaineer – Giving Up the Ghost (2022)
When I was first introduced to Mountaineer through their 2020 record Bloodletting, I was instantly enamored. That record is an inspiring bit of gorgeous sludge metal that transcends the emotional resonance of the genre without stretching beyond the sonic conventions laid down by Isis, Cult of Luna, and others.
So when Giving Up the Ghost was announced, I was equal parts excited and apprehensive. Bloodletting felt so singular that it might be impossible to follow up in a satisfying way. Either they make the same record and it winds up boring or they shift the formula of their careful chemistry and it doesn’t reach the same reaction. I actually waited a few weeks after it was released to listen to it because I was so nervous that it wouldn’t live up.
Since I’m reviewing my personal vinyl copy, you could probably deduce that my worries were unfounded.
Record #857: Locrian – Return to Annihilation (2013)
My toxic trait is that I am constantly looking for new music instead of listening to the thousands of albums I already know and love. When I go to the gym, when I walk the dog, when I work around the house, I almost always throw in my earbuds, go to Spotify, and look for something new.
Last week, when I dragged out the mower for the year’s inaugural lawn mowing, I pulled up The Angelic Process’ profile and scanned through the related artists section, and my attention was drawn to Chicago drone metal/doomgaze outfit Locrian and their 2013 album Return to Annihilation.
Before I had even finished mowing the lawn, I tracked down a copy on Discogs.
Record #856: Glassing – Light and Death (2017)
Sometimes, a band that hasn’t impressed you releases an album that finally gets your attention. And sometimes, that album ends up working as a key for the rest of their discography.
I have been aware of Glassing longer than I’ve been a fan. It’s probably been two or three years since I first saw the Holy Fawn folks gushing about them on social media, rushed to see what the fuss was about, and quickly filed them in the “not for me” category. A few months ago, Twin Dream made me fall in love with the Austin trio, but my affection has been largely reserved for that album alone.
But I don’t listen on repeat very often, even to albums as monstrously lovely as Twin Dream, so I started to explore their earlier records. And as luck would have it, their third album shifted my perspective enough that the same songs that once seemed too abrasive and acerbic for me to enjoy are now hitting me just as strongly.
Record #848: Glassing – Twin Dream (2021)
Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine famously adheres to the theory that when a person is subjected to high volume noise for a long enough time, they enter a zen-like state. The harsh tones and oppressive volumes transform into an almost comforting embrace, like being covered in a blanket of snow after an avalanche.
Experimental Austin metallurgists Glassing are masters of this sort of alchemy, manipulating abrasive tones to create songs that are somehow staggeringly gorgeous. While I recoiled at my early, brief brushes with the band, I was encouraged to give Twin Dream a more earnest listen.
It became one of my favorite records.
Read more at ayearofvinyl.com #glassing #postmetal #doomgaze #blackmetal #blackgaze #sludgemetal #vinyl
Record #845: E-L-R – Vexier (2022)
The German word “Vexier” is an odd term. It’s likely derived from the Latin “vexare” which means to plague or irritate, but it’s used in some dialects to describe a puzzle. For instance, “Vexierbild” is the term used for a double image: an innocent illustration that hides a more sinister image (the best example being “All Is Vanity” by C. Allen Gilbert).
With that in mind, it’s a more than apt title for the sophomore release of Swiss doomgazers E-L-R. The band itself is so mysterious that I can’t find any information about the members besides their initials (there are plenty of photos of the band, but they aren’t labeled). It is a deceptive album that has the initial impression of being rather subdued, but closer inspection reveals a far darker album lurking beneath the surface—not unlike a Vexierbild.