Water Damage – In E | Album Review

12XU

Water Damage make music that feels like it was concocted in a tonal laboratory exclusively for me. Their core discography up to this point has spanned five songs between two albums, 2022’s self-descriptive Repeater and 2023’s quantifiably titled 2 Songs. Their mantra is simple: “Maximal repetition. Minimal deviation.” The ever-rotating collective creates murky, album-side-length tracks that zone in on a singular riff or groove and ride it until it mutates or decays. They employ tactics that draw me so heavily to bands like Seattle’s drone-country legends Earth or Japan’s “underground freak out” collective Acid Mothers Temple. I’m no geography expert, but somewhere between Seattle and Japan must lie Austin, Texas, the home base for the members of Water Damage. The band appears to be the next installment of an already-incestuous scene of musicians, some of whom are already spread across fellow 12XU artists like Spray Paint and USA/Mexico. Most notably, Water Damage features multi-instrumentalist Thor Harris, who has played with Shearwater, Swans, and Xiu Xiu, among many others. The band’s first two albums were made in a seven-piece permutation, but they’ve now grown to ten members strong for their latest release, the massive double album In E.

Other than the semi-eponymous track titles (“Reel E,” “Reel EE,” and “Reel EEE”), the album title is a nod to Terry Riley’s 1964 landmark composition In C, one of the most celebrated works in experimental music. Unreleased until 1968, the initial In C performance and recording is a hypnotic, minimalist piece of neo-classical layers and rhythms. In C's first cut was made up of eleven players, with Riley’s orchestra featuring such avant-garde pioneers as Pauline Oliveros and Steve Reich, though Riley is quoted as suggesting, “a group of about 35 musicians is desired if possible.” In C has been re-interpreted by many experimental artists, from the aforementioned Acid Mothers Temple to the Swiss industrial cult group The Young Gods. It’s precisely the type of root that a band like Water Damage is well suited to pull from, being a relatively large band obsessed with long-winded, single-key grooves.

The only composition named differently is the closer “Ladybird,” which has featured performance and writing credits by Water Damage-associated band Shit & Shine. It actually is a minor break from the rest of the album’s mold, with the grounding riff being an E to F bent repetition. It’s also Water Damage’s first song to feature vocals, as garbled and affected as they are, but it was refreshing to hear them throw some new sounds at the listener after listening to an hour’s worth of intentionally consistent music.

It’s amusing to think about there being a “single” from this album; I suppose a better term may be “teaser,” although if The Decemberists can kick off their album rollout with a 19-minute, Wilco-aping prog-folk number, then Water Damage certainly has the capability and freedom to let “Reel E” be the “hit” off of this record. There’s a rich history of opening tracks on leftfield albums becoming genre staples: “Hallogallo” from the self-titled NEU! debut comes to mind, or more recently, “John L” by black midi off Cavalcade. “Reel E” isn’t too far from standard Water Damage fare, and is exactly what I come to the band to get: a swirling lo-fi jam with subtle progressions until its finish. The main noticeable change from last year’s 2 Songs is that the violin is featured much more prominently, almost like a lead instrument, whereas their previous recordings seemed to use it as an accent. Additionally, the presence of three extra members is clearly identifiable. These tracks have just that extra ounce of big room collaboration to them that round out the band’s sound even more than the first two albums.

The second song, “Reel EE,” anchors itself to a steady bass riff before angry beehive-sounding guitars explode around the three-and-a-half-minute mark. Their thick tone allows for lots of screeching feedback to compliment the track. From that point on, it’s non-stop, head-bobbing, heavy psych. It’s almost like a slightly friendlier version of The Dead C, another pioneering noise rock outfit known for their elongated recordings.

Finally, there's “Reel EEE,” and at this point, I could see some listeners considering tapping out. Water Damage does not make conventional music for conventional people, it’s one of the things that makes them one of my favorite bands of the decade. But even I’ll admit that is a lot of the key of E to handle in one sitting. I remember the only time I saw Sleep in concert and thinking, “Man, I love drop C tuning, but these motherfuckers REALLY love drop C tuning.” Despite the common anti-melodic structure between each track on In E, Water Damage serves identifiable flavors per reel. “Reel EEE” lives in ¾ time and relies more on that entrancing rhythm than it does squealingly heavy guitars or tons of feedback.

In E is a welcome addition to the Water Damage catalog, as it retains the energy of their first two albums while still trying a new challenge, aiming for an over 80-minute runtime. It may not be particularly exciting to those with short attention spans, but if you’re willing to be roped into their singularly notated world, it’s a high-rewarding listening experience. Here’s to hoping their next record is three LPs worth of entirely noteless instruments.


Logan Archer Mounts once almost got kicked out of Warped Tour for doing the Disturbed scream during a band’s acoustic set. He currently lives in Rolling Meadows, IL, but tells everyone he lives in Palatine.

Kill Gosling – Waster | EP Review

We’re Trying Records

My first sentence for this piece was supposed to be something to the effect of "I'm writing this review at a Kill Gosling show," but I got too caught up watching the set, and that sentence wound up being the only thing I wrote down. 

So instead, I'm writing this a few weeks after the last time I saw Kill Gosling, a Columbus-based band who are increasingly hard to pin down. A year ago, I would've described them as a pop-punk band; six months ago, I would have said ‘emo riff powerhouse.’ Pulling back to that recent performance, vocalist Chandler let the crowd know that they were about to see 20 to 30 minutes of "normal rock music," and even that still feels inaccurate to me. Over the past two years, I've had the privilege to witness and share the stage with Kill Gosling, and during that time, the scope of their sound has only increased. I walk away from every set positive that they've outdone themselves, and I'm not sure I've ever been wrong about that. 

Today sees the release of Waster, the band's second EP and their most fully realized effort to date. With thick, dense sound recorded by guitarist Violet Eadie and production courtesy of booked-and-busy scene vet Will Killingsworth, this feels like one of the most monumental emo-adjacent records of the year. Not only does this release feel like it accurately captures the qualities I’ve noticed in Kill Gosling after taking in countless gigs, but the whole thing just barely fits under 10 minutes. The band doesn't waste a second, kicking off with a blink-and-you-'ll-miss-it drum fill leading straight into verse one of “Bobby Hobby,” making for a floaty doo-wop-style opener that's in and out with two verses, two choruses, and a solo in less than a minute and a half. 

They don't let up after this, either - highlights include lead single “Cow Tools,” a Far Side-referencing track that, in the same minute and a half, takes a fast punk beat and reflects on friends, sobriety and “talking about the bands we hate” (I’m praying I’m not counted here) before leading into some guitar shredding and screamed vocals. Diversity in vocal performance is one of the biggest upgrades this record brings, from the bratty Billie Joe Armstrong-esque sneers on “Forget” to the chorused, yearning backing tracks on tracks like “Impatient” and “Untitled.” The instrumentals get their time to shine, too - “Forget” sports the tightest rhythm section performances I’ve heard from a rock band all year, and flourishes on “Hobby” and “Selfish” showcase just how talented the group all are individually.  

Despite the modest “normal rock music” tag, Kill Gosling is a band that knows what they’re doing and know how to do it well. With a sound that’s both familiar and hard to quite nail with one description, sometimes it can get hard to explain what exactly you’re in for with them.  Doing my best here, though: Waster is easily one of the best post-hardcore-rock-emo-pop-indie-shoegaze-punk-wave-core records you’re gonna find all year.  


Rohan Rindani is a writer and musician based in Columbus, OH covering DIY music, non-DIY music, and whatever else they want to, really. They’re also in a few bands. You can send them money, job offers, and praise via email, and look at them on Instagram. You can also find them on Twitter or at a show if you know where to look.

Heavenly Blue – We Have The Answer | Album Review

Secret Voice / Deathwish Inc.

Humanity’s search for an “answer” is a tale as old as time, with the ever-present desire to find meaning in life occupying the thoughts of countless people every day. Despite living in a world where everyone is closely connected through the means of the internet, feelings of isolation are as prevalent as ever, made worse by a global pandemic that was allowed to thrive in a dehumanizing system that continues to grow unabated. On We Have The Answer, Heavenly Blue embodies those feelings of isolation track after track, while the band also offers insight to what might be the only thing that can heal us – building true community.

We Have The Answer is Heavenly Blue’s first full-length release, but it feels much more like a culmination than a debut – in the best possible way. Some of the album’s tracks originated in the band Youth Novel, as detailed in Swim Into The Sound’s recent interview with Heavenly Blue’s guitarist Maya Chun and bassist Jon Riley. The songs here are refined, drawing on a range of 2000s screamo and post-hardcore influences to create something that sounds new and exciting. Fans of bands like Orchid, Funeral Diner, and Pg. 99 will find plenty to enjoy, along with some slightly broader influences like Converge, The Fall of Troy, and Thursday.

These 11 tracks cover a wide range of emotions, balancing chaotic aggression with more melodic sections, often within the same song. A perfect example of this dichotomy is “Certain Distance,” the longest track on the record, which features stretches of light and airy guitar interplay to break up the unrelenting force of the rest of the song. The music is accompanied by poetic lyrics similar in style to the previously mentioned Orchid, serving as one of the lighter songs on the album.

What is this impersonal plea?
I know who I am in a pinch.
I by design shatter, untwine
I stumble back and fall out again
On my own

That song gives way to “Static Voices Speak To Me,” the album’s first single. The track is short and sweet, with a catchy hook that’s rare to come by in the genre and shows the breadth of styles Heavenly Blue is taking inspiration from. It’s easy to picture crowds of screamo kids in basements and small clubs singing along to the chorus here, and the song has a sweetness that stands out amid all the aggression. “Static Voices Speak To Me” is one of the album’s highlights, serving as a stark example of the duality of despair and hope that define these songs.

Heavenly Blue’s rhythm section keeps the record moving swiftly, with the percussion on “A Part Of Me, A Part Of You” standing out as another high point. The song moves at a breakneck pace, with the frenetic drums adding an infectious energy that elevates everything else. Once again, the band straddles the line between melody and discord before transitioning to “Looming,” possibly the heaviest piece on the album. In front of blazingly heavy riffs, the band’s two vocalists take turns belting out lyrics that are fittingly grim.

I'm looming, I'm flaying, I'm hemorrhaging my time
I'm bleeding, flailing, my words all want for knives

Next is the penultimate track of We Have The Answer, “Heat Death Parade.” Here, the band slows things down at first with an intro reminiscent of something you’d hear on City of Caterpillar’s classic 2002 self-titled release. Things continue to build from there, with dual vocalists Juno Parsons and Mel Caren joined by pulsating guitars until the song culminates in a satisfying post-rock zenith. The final track, “All Of The Pieces Break,” picks up where “Heat Death Parade” leaves off, featuring a dreamy guitar melody interrupted by a heavy, repeating riff. This leads to a fittingly energetic finale for the album before it all comes to an abrupt stop.

Mixed and partially recorded by the band’s own Maya Chun, the production on We Have The Answer is clear without sounding overly polished for the genre. With layers of distorted guitar tracks winding in and out of each song, it’s easy to envision how muddled this album could sound. Instead, everything has space to breathe – except for the moments that offer cascading walls of sound as the band builds up to the album’s emotional high points.

Despite the carryovers from Youth Novel, the name change is appropriate, as the finished product sounds very distinct from the band’s previous incarnation. Though they are relatively recent arrivals on the scene, the last several years have seen the band build momentum by playing some higher-profile shows, including opening for Touché Amoré and playing New Friends Fest in 2023. In their short time as a band, Heavenly Blue has built tight bonds with other bands like Frail Body and earned support from names like Touche Amore’s Jeremy Bolm, who runs the Deathwish Inc. imprint Secret Voice, which put out We Have The Answer. The screamo genre seems to be on the rise again, and Heavenly Blue is carving out their position in the latest wave.

In speaking with members of the band and reading past interviews, it’s clear that they’re intent on building or maintaining the community aspect of DIY music. Though the music is often dark, there is still a feeling of hope underneath the surface, tied directly to the band’s focus on that community. The songs on We Have The Answer offer catharsis for the many frustrations of our current social climate, but, as promised, Heavenly Blue offers an answer. Even when music serves as a release for feelings of hopelessness, it creates bonds between people. There are moments of beauty in life, but they only come through building genuine connections with others. Make art, have conversations, and be mindful. We live in bleak times, but through our connections to each other, it is possible to build a better future.


Nick Miller is a freelance writer from Ypsilanti, Michigan, primarily writing about the world of professional wrestling. He also enjoys playing music, reading, tabletop RPGs, and logging Letterboxd entries (AKA watching movies). You can find him on X at @nickmiller4321 or on Instagram at @nickmiller5678.

ther – godzilla | Album Review

Julia’s War

I’m glad that Godzilla hasn’t attacked yet. The day-to-day takes enough out of us that we don’t need a Kaiju-sized monkey wrench thrown into the fray to make us shiver with exhaustion, tremble with hope, gaze with fearful awe. If there are giant monsters hiding beneath the waves, waiting to fulfill their roles as harbingers of humanity’s comeuppance, we’ve managed to create enough pain on our own that their aid hasn’t been necessary. It must be disappointing to feel so useless. Fortunately, Godzilla has always made a better symbol than destroyer.

Philadelphia’s Heather Jones, who writes and records as ther, excavates multitudes on their third LP in as many years. Ambiguity proves to be a perennial obsession in Jones’s songwriting, recurring not from a pursuit of musical both-sideism, but from lived experience and constant introspection. Nearly everything is out of our control, and it’s terrifying. Facing reality’s reverie of expectant horror rarely feels any other way. Jones implores us not to succumb to our paralysis and let it fuel our action.

godzilla reunites and rearranges the band of Philly fixtures from 2023’s a horrid whisper echoes in a palace of endless joy, orienting the instrumental palette and mixing familiar colors into new blends. Guitars spark to the forefront and land with a tidal wave of distortion. They may be newly louder and sometimes slower, but no less deliberate. Saxophone and cello appear like streaks in the sky, passing behind clouds as they placate the sun and moon. A capital-R riff is rarely the focus, but Jones and company infuse strange geometry into songs like “matthew,” letting a jagged melody cut through, grounding their anxious Biblical reflections. 

Photo by Heather Jones

Holiness isn’t delivered through scripture and sermons; Jones instead places it within the ostensibly mundane. God isn’t a hand that refuses to save until we beg for redemption. It’s in the breeze gushing through the quiet light bathing our faces (“a wish”). You can hear it in a bloodstained dog’s howls, overcome by visceral, soulless dread as it takes a cat’s life; or in the moon’s patient voice, dictating an unexpected reply (“moon ruby”). On the folky mid-LP exhale of “advil,” the consequences of a fist thrown in childhood anger paint a bluntly honest truth.

No amount of saying sorry ever made things right,
Forgiveness is a thing you earn after work and over time
And a leap that’s divine

Caverns are built around little truths — the break of day is miraculous, we’re all a bit fucked, death isn’t the end but remains an ending. godzilla’s miracle is revealed in the way that newly-acquired noise coexists with the minutiae. Like the work of Mark Rothko, all-consuming color seen from a distance reveals a topography of crags and contours up close. The balance holding every searing melody or hushed lyric together isn’t lost as they spiderweb into each other. Songs unfold with emtpiness, springtime periwinkles playing coy, never betraying the cacophony that could erupt in their final moments.

Perhaps the best example of this is “a pale horse ha ha ha ha.” Reinvented from a 2019 single, the band crafts a dirge refusing to deny the absurdity, comedy, and contradiction inherent in life itself and responds to death’s anticipated arrival in the only appropriate manner — laughing out loud. A joke shared with a knowing companion as she guides us along the Jersey turnpike feels like a more honest outcome than blissful dissolution or cold darkness. The band synchronizes their wanderings through a maze of forgotten lost-and-found truths. Jones and keyboardist Veronica Manger laugh in raptured harmony, swept away by uncertain grace and fuzzy chords. Waiting at the end is a figure dressed perhaps a bit like this, offering familiarity, a ride out of town, and no answers.

godzilla knocks firmly on the door, asking to be let in regardless of what lies behind: life, nothing, or a 400-foot monster. Jones carefully unravels the cocoon, one thread at a time, to reveal a shimmering heart, more like a distorted mirror than a revelation. There isn’t going to be a grand proclamation, a volcanic exit, or a flaming chariot in the sky. The sun will set and rise and set again, and we’ll keep holding onto what we cherish. That time you stayed up way too late with a friend, drinking soda and playing video games even though their parents told you not to, is infinitely more precious than anything heaven could say. Gravity will pull you inward, but you’ve learned to resist.


Aly Muilenburg lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, where she writes, records, sends emails, and more for Ear Coffee, a DIY podcast and media “entity” that she co-founded. Her writing can be found online or underground, and she can be found at home or @purityolympics.

Swim Into The Sound's Favorite Stoner Rock Songs

4/20 is a dumb holiday. It’s not even a holiday — it’s an excuse for teenagers and college kids to spend the day stoned and making dumb jokes while consuming an inhuman amount of Little Debbie snack cakes, Arnold Palmer, and Wendy’s… At least, that’s how I’ve spent my fair share of April 20ths. 

Sure, it’s fun to have a weed-based holiday, especially as the drug becomes more widely accepted both societally and legally. While the federal government still classifies marijuana as a Schedule I drug, public notion has taken a hard turn the other way over the last decade. As of April 20th, 2023, exactly 38 states, three territories, and the District of Columbia all allow for the medical use of cannabis products, while recreational marijuana is currently legal in 24 states — almost half the country. 

And yet, something doesn’t feel quite right. 

While it’s been affirming to watch public opinion shift on marijuana, I can’t help but feel like it’s a bit of a hollow victory. Yeah, it’s great that I can go and buy edibles from a drive-thru window in Denver. Sure, it’s sick that I can walk into a cafe in Chicago and buy a weed-infused lemonade. Of course, it’s awesome that I can visit New York and stop at a place called “Granny Za’s” and spend $10 on the most wack pre-roll I’ve ever smoked. It’s all there, and yet, there’s an elephant in the room in the form of our nation’s prison system. 

In reality, what this day should be about is abolition. We should continue to use 4/20 as a day to celebrate weed — I don’t want to take that away from anyone — but we should also use this as a day to talk about the unjust drug laws in this country and the ways that our government has wielded policies that acutely target people of color and those living below the poverty line, all for something that doesn’t harm anyone. 

For every sleek new dispensary that pops up in one of these newly decriminalized states, there are dozens, if not hundreds of people who have been locked up and held away from society for possessing things that you now can buy from the gas station around the corner.

I’m not even talking about just weed; harder drugs are part of this conversation, too. I know I’m not the most qualified person to speak on this, but I just want to make my position clear: fuck every prison, fuck every cop, and free everyone whose lives have been ruined by our unjust prison system. Fuck Richard Nixon, fuck the war on drugs, and fuck you if you don’t have any compassion for people struggling with substances. 

For a more articulate and decidedly less vulgar articulation on these topics, I recommend everyone read Are Prisons Obsolete? by Angela Davis. It’s available, in full, as a PDF here, so you really have no excuse not to sit down and read about the incredibly prejudiced system we’ve all come to accept as part of our societal fabric. Once you notice it, you can’t stop. A better future is possible, but if we’re going to work towards that collective future, it begins with understanding what we’re up against. 

To pivot back to music and back to this blog’s usually scheduled silliness, today we have a fun roundup celebrating Stoner Rock. Yes, Stoner Rock: the least serious, most embarrassing, and also most badass genre of music ever. It seems like the most appropriate way for us to celebrate the music, the culture, and where those two things intersect. Now, I only hope my team of writers understand the assignment. 


Kyuss – “One Inch Man”

Elektra/Asylum Records

I was (unfortunately) predisposed to love stoner rock from the jump. Once I discovered Paranoid in middle school, my fate was sealed. By the time I had gotten into Queens of the Stone Age in my early teenage years, there was no going back. Then-current groups like The Sword and Wolfmother set the stage for me to dig into older bands like Sleep, Fu Manchu, Asteroid, and Truckfighters.

My first real stoner rock phase came in college, ironically after I had consciously decided to stop smoking weed. I wound my way back through Josh Homme’s discography through the early days of Queens, past the meandering collaboration of The Desert Sessions, and all the way to Kyuss. In that band, I found albums full of the grooviest riffs and nastiest, most lip-curling guitar tones I had ever heard. While I enjoyed each of the band’s albums about equally, something kept drawing me back to … And The Circus Leaves Town. While “Hurricane” kicks the record off with some head-bobbing drums and sputtery guitar, “One Inch Man” gradually revealed itself to me as my Kyuss song. The three-minute track begins with a guitar lick I can only categorize as peak. The drums kick in, and almost instantly, everything clicks into place. It’s a grungy and cocky track that could easily soundtrack a smoke sesh, but also feels active and upright enough that you could strut down the street and feel like the coolest person alive with this blaring in your headphones. 

Taylor Grimes - @GeorgeTaylorG


Clutch – “Big News”

EastWest

As the resident Swim Into The Sound edgeman (which I have not confirmed but have yet to be corrected), you may think I am the least qualified to talk about stoner rock. However, as a young hesher, I discovered music in this genre before I even knew what to call it. “Freya” by The Sword being featured on Guitar Hero II was the first stone, if I may, and then came Clutch. I had first seen them as a featured artist on Viva La Bam, but my first time connecting with their music was when I heard “Electric Worry” on Comcast’s MusicChoice TV. When their next album, Strange Cousins From The West, was released in 2009, I bought the CD at Borders and told the cashier it was “blues metal.” He said that didn’t sound very crazy, as we all know, most rock music is rooted in the blues, and Robert Johnson supposedly selling his soul to the devil is about as metal as it gets. 

From then on, I became obsessed with the thick guitar tones and slow pace of doom, sludge, and stoner metal. Before I made it to the eighth grade, I was regularly listening to Crowbar, Eyehategod, and Karma To Burn. I started my first stoner metal-influenced band in high school, and then another one in college. Sadly, both of them were very short-lived, but my love for the riff persisted. For fifteen years now, Clutch has always been my favorite band of the style. They are absolutely the perfect American rock band to me. Unbeatable drum grooves from Jean-Paul Gastier, locked-in basslines from Dan Maines, all-time tasteful riffage from Tim Sult, and iconic lyrics and vocals from Neil Fallon. Clutch is on tour this year for the 30th anniversary of their debut album Transnational Speedway League: Anthems, Anecdotes And Undeniable Truths — what I believe to actually be the best DC hardcore record of the ‘90s. That album preceded their landmark 1995 self-titled LP, bridging the gap between their dirgy, riff-based hardcore and the oddball stoner rock they’d come to perfect. Many songs from the album are still Clutch live staples to this day, like the epic interstellar cruise anthem “Spacegrass,” and my personal favorites, the one-two opening punches of “Big News I” and “Big News II.” Everything about this suite remains exciting to me no matter how many times I listen to it. One thing I love about Cutch is that I have zero fucking idea what Neil Fallon is singing about half the time. He is a storyteller in every sense of the word, and with the exception of their earliest tracks, I’m not certain he reflects on his own experiences much in his lyrics (or he’s extremely talented at masking them with fictional characters or deep-cut historical references). 

“Big News I” begins the story of an old, raucous pirate ship on its way down with “Dutchmen on the mizzen mast, six harpies are singing to the lee” and “fifteen men on a dead man’s chest, yo ho ho and a bottle of rye.” Musically, it’s got everything Clutch are experts at: a funky ass drum line, a killer bass lead, fuzz-toned guitars over the bass lead, and the expressive vocal style that only Neil Fallon can do. The way it moves between the swirling verses and aggressive choruses is dynamite, and when it transitions to the bit more aggressive second chapter, it’s absolutely seamless. “Big News II” comes in like a boat-busting iceberg, with the entire band kicking everything up a few notches. The line “fortune tellers make a killing nowadays” returns from “Part I,” and the way Neil screams it has made me want it as a tattoo for years. I mean, really, what other band could make shouting “A SAILOR’S LIFE FOR MEEEEEE!!!!!!” sound that badass? I’ve seen Clutch seven times, and I finally got to see them do these tracks at their most recent Chicago show. As an added bonus, they weaved in the fan hit “Cypress Grove” in the middle of the sequence, which made it all the more special. They are the absolute masters of their craft, from their very first 7” to 2022’s knockout LP Sunrise On Slaughter Beach. Okay, I’m gonna continue to not smoke weed and dial up my playlist of Bong, Bongripper, Bongzilla, and Weedeater.

Logan Archer Mounts - @VERTICALCOFFIN

Editor’s Note: Hell yeah to Clutch, but might need to cut this down a bit though, you have the longest entry, and you don’t even smoke weed.


Keith Jarrett - “Eyes of the Heart (Pt. 1 & 2)”

ECM Records

The last 4/20 I celebrated in earnest was 7 years ago. I flew from Evanston, IL, to Middletown, CT, to play a weekender all across Wesleyan with my old emo band. For the four of us, this meant an excuse to imbibe recklessly. (On our first night in town, someone procured a keg for our show at an off-campus art gallery, and we got so drunk our drummer Zach passed out behind the kit mid-set.) To cap off the run, the night after our last gig, we divvied up some mushrooms scrounged from dresser drawers and turned off all the lights; as the resident jazz guy, I was tasked to “play something crazy.” I threw on Keith Jarrett’s Eyes of the Heart, which had been getting some burn in my headphones during stoned evening walks, and we let our enhanced imaginations draw shapes on the dark ceilings. Released on ECM as Jarrett was splitting time between their forward-looking ambient-adjacent jazz and relatively more traditional be-bop stylings on Impulse!, Eyes of the Heart received mixed reviews from critics. It may not hit the astral heights of The Köln Concert or Bremen/Lausanne, but it’s nigh-perfect stoner jazz. Jarrett’s wonky percussion experiments are reverent but still goofy, and the band is killer: Dewey Redman on tenor, Charlie Haden on bass, Paul Motian on drums. Haden’s loping bass riff grounds the band’s forays into more spiritual territory before they drop, leaving Jarrett to the improvisations that characterized his work on ECM in the 70s. Unfortunately for our burgeoning buzz, someone’s sober-ish roommate decided to noodle along to the music on an acoustic guitar, Tallest Man on Earth-style; we tried to stare daggers at him, but I’d be surprised if anybody pulled off more than perplexed anguish. Within a year, I’d mostly give up weed for good. Legalize it, free anybody locked up for it, then let them get the first crack at making money off of it. For what it’s worth, I still roll one hell of a joint. 

Jason Sloan - @slaysonjones 

Editor’s Note: Stoner Rock—ROCK—as in “rock and roll music,” not jazz. Come on.


Washed Out – “Paracosm”

Sub Pop Records

This song sounds like flowers, man. What instruments do you know that sound like flowers? I heard this for the first time at the tender age of 14 and soon discovered that songs could be long, intricate, and serene. Somehow, in the first three seconds, I knew this was meant to be enjoyed as an experience, so I laid down on my basement’s rougher-than-shag carpet, put my noise-canceling headphones to full volume, closed my eyes, and just tried to breathe. At the time, I had no concept of drugs, but that didn’t stop me from trying to compare this experience with the stoner kids at lunch. I basically still don’t know what it means to get or be high, but I have to imagine the power scaling is something like this. With one cheeky puff, you instantly know the number of the nearest pizza place. Two bold quaffs, you can befriend anyone in a ten-mile radius wearing a tie-dye shirt, but you can only talk about Sublime for some reason. Finally, after three perhaps quite labored inhales of noisome smoke, I’m absolutely certain the imbiber is conferred the awesome ability to turn four-letter words into words of infinite length, one prime example being *ahem* “Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude…”

Braden Allmond — @BradenAllmond

Editor’s Note: When it comes to weed, you get it. When it comes to this assignment, however, you don’t.


Sufjan Stevens – “Fourth of July”

Asthmatic Kitty 

Getting stoned can be a bit of a mixed bag for the highly anxious like myself. At the very best, I’m closing my eyes and gleefully reliving all the best moments of my life, such as my favorite concerts. At the very worst, I’m crying on the couch and thinking about how everyone I love is capable of dying at any time. Most times, I’m marrying the two extremes by watching the Carrie and Lowell concert film and getting really worried about Sufjan Stevens.

While Carrie and Lowell is far down the list of Sufjan’s most stoner-friendly music, it still encompasses everything my experience with edibles has been: sort of religious and mostly a bummer. If I had to choose a single song to be my 4/20 anthem, it would be his live version of “Fourth of July,” where he builds on the line “we’re all going to die” for several minutes. Or maybe it’s several hours. By that point of my whooping 5 mgs, it’s really all the same. 

Lindsay Fickas - @lindsayfickas

Editor’s Note: I love Sufjan as much as the next guy, but stoner rock? Come on, let’s be real.


Corey Feldman – “Go 4 It”

CIFI RECORDS

When smoking weed, you want to be transported to another galaxy, a place far, far away, not knowing what’s real or imitation. No one deserves to be your tour guide more than Corey Feldman and his techno classic “Go 4 It.” He should be the final boss in any weed excursion. The song itself is pure mayhem, with a Michael Myers-esque synth intro jump scaring you into a Skillrex-created-if-he-was-deaf dubstep beat. Still, the cherry on top is that the “Grand Marshall of Ganja” himself, Snoop Dogg, makes an appearance, most likely mailing in his verse via carrier pigeon. You must watch Corey Feldman’s epic Today Show performance, which will encompass all your senses and take you to a state of ecstasy like none other. He gyrates, twerks and is dressed as if Assassin’s Creed just joined a motorcycle gang. But, buyer beware, the Feldster is only for weed experts; you are one step away from entering heaven or trying to escape the depths of hell.

David Williams - @davidmwill89

Editor’s Note: What the hell is thiiiiiis?


David Crosby – “Traction in the Rain”

Atlantic Recording Corp.

I’m the first to say I’m no aficionado on the niches and intricacies of proper ‘stoner rock.’ But I’m also the first to say that I’m a bit of an aficionado of ‘60s and ‘70s rock, where the ‘stoner’ part of it all was just implied. Aside from (or because of?) the fact that I have a somewhat parasocial relationship with the late-’60s Laurel Canyon scene, my ‘stoner’ self seems to always want to vibe out to jangly guitars and all things Americana. I smoke to try to relieve (suppress?) anxiety, and this era of music—anything from The Stone Poneys to Strawberry Alarm Clock—is what I’ve found that does it for me. So sue me. 

Not to mention that it feels a little sacrilegious not to acknowledge the grandfather of all things stoner and rock on a day like 4/20. David Crosby’s If I Could Only Remember My Name is the quintessential stoner album, a full-body experience that is one of the most necessary 4/20 listens I can think of. On “Traction in the Rain,” Crosby’s vocals are just the right amount of haunting, with Laura Allen’s autoharp flashing against his almost whiny intonation. On those days when I’m feeling run down by the grind, I turn to Crosby, singing “Hard to find a way / To get through another city day / Without thinking about / Getting out,” and I know he’s got me. With glitters of vocals and acoustic from partner in crime Graham Nash, Crosby is at his most vulnerable on an already personally exposing album; wondering where time has gone while also attempting to look ahead. 

So this 4/20, I recommend you sit down, light a Croz-approved joint, maybe look at a sunset, and take a minute to reflect. 

Cassidy Sollazzo - @cassidynicolee_

Editor’s Note: David Crosby would wilt if he ever heard real stoner rock. Let’s step it up.


Tears for Fears – “Mad World

Mercury

Upon one of my first investigations into the world of what the guy at the bodega insists is called “zaza,” I found myself in tears. The culprit wasn’t the totemic pilgrimage of Sleep’s Dopesmoker or some blissed-out desert riffs, but a pop song. All of my research indicated that this weed stuff was supposed to help you relax, man, especially when you were listening to the dulcet tones of England’s finest duo, Tears for Fears. 

The first verse of their 1983 hit “Mad World” set the scene for me to succumb in stoned sadness — “All around me are familiar faces / Worn-out places, worn-out faces.” Holy shit, that’s a bummer! The grindset has distorted every smiling face into heavy, tired grimness. Only four lines later, our narrator is ready to “drown his sorrow,” praying for “no tomorrow.” It’s been a while since Sunday school, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be praying for that

However, the chorus is what really gets your goat and makes it weep. By the time Curt Smith sings the immortal lyrics, “And I find it kind of funny / I find it kind of sad / The dreams in which I’m dying / Are the best I’ve ever had,” my cheeks bore a greater resemblance to Niagara Falls than to someone’s face. How could a dream of shuffling off this mortal coil like a pair of geriatrics on the ship’s deck be better than any other? I can’t imagine Smith has had too many fond dreams if those are at the top of the oneirology pile.

In two slight verses and a hell of a refrain, the band lives up to their name: these are definitely Tears caused by my Fears. It is a testament to the song’s potency that it catalyzed immediate journalistic action. I raced downstairs, looking like a human Coldplay song, to inform my roommates of the music’s tragedy. Uncertain but in agreement, they nodded and affirmed that the song “was a downer” and that they “like the version in Donnie Darko more.” 

If you measure a song’s stoner rock-ness by how much emotion it can elicit, “Mad World” is the greatest stoner rock song of all time.

Aly Muilenburg - @purityolympics

Editor’s Note: I see you trying to work some logic in with that last line, but it’s not working for me, this still ain’t stoner rock.


Caveman – “Shut You Down”

Fat Possum Records

I learned I'm not a stoner at a Phosphorescent show in 2014. Phosphorescent is an indie folk act from Huntsville, Alabama, primarily helmed by singer Matthew Houk. They were supporting their album Muchacho at the time. I was really captivated by their song "Terror in the Canyons" and wanted to go see them when they came to Columbus, Ohio, but I couldn't talk any of my friends into coming with me, so I chose to go alone.

Reader, I did not succeed in seeing Phosphorescent on that evening in 2014. That is why my contribution to this article is not listed under “Phosphorescent - ‘Terror in the Canyons.’” Instead, I took an edible gifted to me by a bagboy with a penchant for floral maxi skirts at that den of excess and debauchery known as Whole Foods Market, where I worked at the time, and freaked the fuck out.

I did, however, see their opener, Caveman: nicely dressed white guys who make what I call “bathwater music.” Bathwater music consists of a lot of disparate subgenres that were popping off in the early 2010s: chillwave, dreampop, witch house, vaporwave, a lot of stuff mislabeled as shoegaze, lo-fi beats you can study to. Music that sounds like warm water washing over you. Guitars that sound like they’re coming from the bathroom down the hall with the shower running. Lyrics that… kind of make sense… but are more interested in creating an atmosphere than telling a story.

They opened with “Shut You Down,” from their second, self-titled album. The first note they struck my vision went kind of sepia tone (was I dosed by this bagboy? Did I live some Go Ask Alice bullshit? unclear), and that is a good way to describe the quality of this song. It’s nostalgic, but didn’t really sound like anything from a bygone era in 2014. It’s sad but calm and non-confrontational. The vocals are quiet and plaintive. It’s really the perfect kind of music for someone who’s so high he thinks he’s going to die, or be arrested, or both, and that’s why I stayed for their whole set. I did bolt as soon as they were done though. Sorry Phosphorescent; what could have been…

Brad Walker - @bradurdaynightlive

Editor’s Note: I don’t know what this is, but it ain’t stoker rock. Take this shit back to the cave, man.


Binaural Beats - Marijuana High |THC Beat| *Purple Haze* Digital Drug

We’ve evolved past the need for labels 

Okay enough of that brick weed music that these Salvia-sucking posers are rambling about. You want the dank shit? That Ricky Stanicky-icky? Then take a lungbusting hit of Binaural Beats - Marijuana High |THC Beat| *Purple Haze* Digital Drug. Look, anyone can smoke THC-P Moon Rocks, get a headache, and throw on some Tame Impala – but real heads know that the best Stoner Rock is a series of 420 HZ frequencies that make your brain think that it smoked weed. Because the only thing cooler than smoking weed is smoking digital weed through your ears. So don’t vacuum your carpet for several months, then sit on the floor, close your blinds, and blast this shit so loud that the neighbors get a contact high. Become ungovernable/very difficult to get a hold of when your family reaches out to you. (Pro Tip: while THC binaural beats are safe on their own, they can be a gateway to more destructive hertz. Make sure you check your binaurals for any Fentanyl frequencies).

Joshua Sullivan - @brotherheavenz

Editor’s Note: This is fucked up.


Counting Crows – “Accidentally In Love (as featured on the Shrek 2 Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)”

Dreamworks Records

When I was asked to come up with my favorite Stoner Rock piece of music for 4/20 I was a bit puzzled. As someone who has basically no knowledge of the genre, I thought to myself, “Is it a specific genre? Or is it simply any music to get stoned to?” Amid my confusion, I made the very wise choice of taking to Spotify and scrolling through playlist after playlist, both created by Spotify and users with various titles, including the words “Stoner Rock.” As I was doing my research, I noticed that the song “Accidentally In Love” by Counting Crows was featured on one of these playlists, which begged the question, “Is the Shrek 2 Soundtrack considered Stoner Rock?” The thing to know about me, dear reader, is that I absolutely adore Shrek 2, along with its perfectly curated list of accompanying songs for the film. It is quite literally the film of a generation and its soundtrack is simply one of many aspects that solidify it in the upper echelon of family-oriented animated media. I mean, what’s not to love about Shrek 2? It was a staggering artistic improvement from the original, and its animation still holds up to this day! Not to mention, you have an uproarious cast of voice talent, including the incomparable Tony Banderas! What other movie are you going to find a trumpeted version of the Hawaii Five-0 theme song as well as a stirring cover of “Holding Out For A Hero”? There’s no other movie like that! And the soundtrack version is done by Frou Frou, are you kidding me?? I love Imogen Heap so much, and many people only know her from that meme from the OC, but like I’m telling you, what a discography. That album that “Hide and Seek” is on is just flawless! And she inspired Ariana Grande? Incredible. Anyway, I wasn’t huge on Shrek 3 and never really watched Shrek 4, it just didn’t really appeal to me, you know? Anyway, I can’t remember what I was saying, but I need to take a break from writing so I can watch Shrek 2

Ciara Rhiannon - @rhiannon_comma

Editor’s Note: Look, I love Shrek 2 (and its soundtrack) as much as the next 30-year-old, but just because some stoner added it to a playlist on Spotify does not mean it’s eligible for this roundup.


Brava Spectre - “The Lioness Eye Tamed My Open Palm”

Self-Released

Noise rock and stoner rock are the same thing, right? Anyway, I popped an edible before sitting down to write this, and I think it’ll probably kick in at some point in the next hour or so, ‘tis the season and all. Anyway, Brava Spectre were a band from New London, Connecticut, inspired by the likes of Arab on Radar, Free Jazz, and The Mars Volta (amongst a plethora of others). They burned incredibly bright and hot before sputtering out as the band dissolved and morphed into other projects, most notably the addition of guitarist Stephen K. Buttery to The World Is A Beautiful Place and I Am No Longer Afraid To Die’s permanent lineup. Brava Spectre’s debut album, The Hands, The Water, The Hands That Occupy the Water, has a super trippy name, and when you say it out loud, it kind of tastes like colorful grainy monochrome, but the music is abrasive, controlled to the point of spiraling out and snapping, containing some borderline haunting melodies as well as some of the most evil riffs you will ever hear. “The Lioness Eye Tamed My Open Palm” is a fucking crazy title, man, like I wonder if these guys, oh holy shit, I wonder if the music is changing my molecular structure in some way, I mean, I’ve heard of vibrational patterns that can cause cells to react in different ways including cell regeneration or duplication. That reminds me of the single electron theory, I mean, what if our complex cell structure is actually fundamentally made up of a single electron that we all share and I think that's kind of beautiful, too, even if it's like really spooky.

Elias - @letsgetpivotal

Editors Note: This was supposed to be like 300 words, but they wrote 1900, so I deleted the majority of it since they started rambling about the holographic universe or some weird shit like that.