Doom and Dead

Here at Doom and Dead, we shine a spotlight on small-time doom, drone, and psych acts that deserve more attention. So many fantastic drone metal releases came out this month that we’re hereby dubbing it Drone-tember.

First up is ten minutes of dismal drone devotion from Toronto electrodoom act, Acid Fink. AF’s Bandcamp page says, “I'm a space punk//High on space junk,” and honestly, that sums up everything you need to know about Acid Fink’s sound. Put on your diving helmet and hit play as we slip below the surface of this feedback architect’s latest single, Igopogo. 

The tracks draws its inspiration from the mythical creature said to inhabit Ontario’s Lake Simcoe. You’ll be enveloped in a lake of distortion, the current drawing you ever deeper into the unknown. Time and space warp as we encounter the monstrous and the uncanny and the bathypelagic zone. If you want to find out what lurks in the blackness, you’ll have to dip your toes in and find out for yourself.

If this brand of amp worship gets your swim bladder sizzling, then I recommend paddling over to Mizarians, Acid Fink’s 2024 collab with TrailOfGhosts. 

Next up is a ponderous parcel of ambient drone/funeral blues from Rome’s own Serpico. His track On The Road To Botany Bay is a full dose of forlorn fuzz flavored with sarsaparilla and sagebrush. Fans of Dylan Carlson and the old West take heed: This doom metal dirge leaves just a liiiiiittle bit of desert sand in your boots.

Sadly, this single will have to tide us over until Serpico is ready to saddle up his forthcoming album, The Tombstone Cowboy. 

I've sung the praises of Buddhist sludge master Dhyana before. Every one of his albums feels like a complete meditation, a detailed and unique statement. Mu is no exception. Every note is considered and deliberate, but make no mistake -- this is drone is HEAVY. You'll be entranced from the first not to the last.

If you haven't experienced a Dhyana album before, there's no time like the present.

Our final recommendation this month is a collab between Brazilian psych-smiths Mábura and Lagarto Rei. Their newest two-song EP, Abyssopelagic, has been seven years in the making, and features two drum kits, percussion, synthesizers, bass, and guitars. As the title suggests, this instrumental offering is meant to be an “intentional plunge into the deepest, heaviest sonic layers experienced so far.” The first track is nearly 15 minutes of dark, droning psychedelia. Those double drum kits leave their mark in the swirling atmosphere. Layers of instrumentation float in, only to descend into the void. The artists have crafted a dynamic drone that grows denser as we sink into it. 

The second track, Abysso, leaves melody behind and slips down into an experimental realm. The track toys with weight here, paradoxically getting heavier as it settles into to stillness. 

If you’re feeling the psychedelic drones of Abyssopelagic but prefer a melodic groove, then the previous collab from these artists, Epipelagic, is the perfect life ring to grab onto.

Here at Doom and Dead we shine a spotlight on small-time doom, drone, and psych acts that deserve more attention. Our favorite release this August came from North Dakota doom duo, Knifesmoke.

Knifesmoke’s sound combines Courtney Voorhies’s haunting vocals, Paul Voorhies’s ponderous instrumentals, and a swirling dash of heavy psych. Let the whole thing harden over a an unrelenting prairie winter, and the result is a brand of doom that’s all their own. Their newest album, Evil Eye, covers a broad swath of subject matter from myths to history to the occult. If that kind of thing gets your third eye blinking open like it does mine, then come along with me as I crack into this album and see what’s inside.

The album opens on Roanoke, a lumbering elegy to a failed settlement whose inhabitants mysteriously disappeared in the 1580s. Courtney’s voice wafts through the track like campfire smoke through the pines. Paul’s sludgy instrumental rattles your molars and shakes the dead from their graves. Hope may have died in Roanoke, but this song makes me optimistic for the tracks to come.

Banshee pairs colossal riffage with a glacial chill. Paul lets the motif wander, bending it this way and that. Through the track, he toys with crunchier sounds and gravelly textures. Courtney’s vocals are a beacon in the darkness that keeps the song on the rails. Her delivery is pure and lovely but also curiously cutting. You’re never quite certain if she’s about to summon angels down from heaven or herald the deaths of you and everyone you love. This track is an iceberg extending far below the surface. The more I listen to it, the more I discover. 

Coven of Shadows saunters out of the gate, standing tall and ready to push back against injustice. There’s always room in my playlist for a head-bobber with a message, and that’s what you’re getting here. Together, a coven is strong. Countless eyes aflame in the darkness can see through any lie, persevere through any oppression. As the song says, "In the heart of the storm we ignite." 

Though the Emerald Light is a weighty hunk of a track with whispery vocals and a downcast personality. A granite riff chugs its way through the undergrowth, hot on the heels of the grimmest greenman to ever waft smoke your way. This is some of the most depressing stoner shit I have ever heard. Two moss-ive thumbs up. 

Five tracks in, we take a moment to rock out with Crystal Gazing. This moody gem ups the vibrations and brings in some fresh energy. The guitar solo reaches out to kiss psychedelic dimensions. I don’t need a scrying mirror to predict you’re going to enjoy this one.

Remember Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit”? Well, what would it sound like if someone tapped into that mind-altering Alice-in-Wonderland vibe, but made it heavy as a hookah full of concrete?Thankfully, Knifesmoke is here with the answer I never knew I needed. Space Cakes is the perfect anthem for when your next trip down the rabbit hole. The brooding slab of a riff is accentuated with Courtney’s velvety contralto and even a throaty growl for good measure. The time is nigh to feed your head and dance the Lobster Quadrille.

Low, slow, and ominous as fuck— Evil Eye dips its slithery fingers into everything that makes an iconic doom metal track. The moment this track begins, we step through the veil and into the realm of the inexplicable. Frigid vocals slide down your spine. Leaden riffs plumb the depths of your nightmares. It’s a weird and weighty journey into the sphere of the occult. Keywords here are dark and strange. 

Sometimes good things come in sweet, salty little packages. Magick Circle may be one of the shortest offering on this album, but it there’s something about this funky riff that gets my head nodding every time. Knifesmoke really taps into something elemental here. It’s like an apothecary’s cabinet has sprung to life and created its own rhythm. The vocals are an arcane tonic spread over a bubbling guitar line. Dust motes float in the air. The drumming is nearly spidery in places. The guitar work takes a psychedelic turn, summoning technicolor herbs and mushrooms out of every nook and cranny. Call upon the four corners of the earth and enjoy the revelry. Just don’t break the circle. 

Lady Lilith is a perilous trudge through a poisoned forest. Heed Knifesmoke’s warning: Lilith is as deadly as she is intoxicating. The seductress’s trap is set, and she’s eager to welcome her next victim. This song seems like a melancholy plod at first blush, but danger lurks at every turn. Courtney’s vocals float and dive as she explores the lower reaches of her vocal range. The effect is beguiling. When this dirge comes to a close, don’t be surprised when your hand clicks Play again before your brain even knows what it’s doing.

The Morrigan is a call to war backed by a phalanx of fuzz. Dark vocals strut at the forefront announcing the arrival of the phantom war queen herself. The instrumentals are loaded with grit, tamped with sleaze, and ready to fire. The anticipation swells like a horde ready to charge. This track will test your mettle and keep you in its grip to the very last moments.

Here at Doom and Dead we shine a spotlight on small-time doom, drone, and psych acts that deserve more attention. Our favorite release this May came from Malaysian stoner doom trio, Targun.

Targun’s debut album, Tazzaboür, dropped on May 24th, and boy is it a doozy. It’s obvious that the band’s first love is stoner metal, but these dudes aren’t afraid to try other genres on for size. The result is a dynamic album full of unexpected twists. Something special happens when these three doom together. So sit down, grab a lighter, and let’s hit this thing together.

Sakura opens on a pendulous bass line echoing alone in a cavernous space. A haunting guitar steps forward from the darkness, adding its voice to the ritual. The drums drop in, setting off an avalanche of fuzz. Occult chanting and ponderous riffs warn the listener that gains bought with corruption WILL be accounted for. It’s slow and weighty stuff with rich guitar tone. The melody is repetitive enough to get into a groove, but slithers through enough curves to avoid predictability.

Pray for admittance and make your sacrifice to the keepers of the bud. 

The first track was heavy, but Berdosa adds even more weight to the scales. This groove will have you bobbing your skull as it’s dragged across the asphalt. The drummer is absolutely aflame on this track, experimenting with tempo and funky rhythms throughout. In the second half, the guitarist is let off his leash and runs amok with psychedelic licks. There are so many good details in this song, but what makes it great is a certain synergy between the band members that cannot be fabricated. This track is sinfully good from start to finish. 

In true doom metal fashion, Bangkit is a relentless plod to the grave. Unsettling chants and hair-raising harmonies punctuate the track. There is no escape. The dagger is raised. The themes here are classic doom metal fare, but the band manages to find unexplored territory. These guys are not afraid to toy with sound. Is that a hint of hardcore influence? The barest twang of a surf rock fill? A meandering prog moment slipped into the fuzz? Give it a listen and feel free to tell me I’m crazy. The elements are blended so seamlessly that trying to pin down any one influence is like trying to grab hold of a ghost. 

Targun switches things up with Melangit Terus. Watch out. This one is a solid rock anthem with a barbed stinger and eight legs. The song stands in defiance of hatred and division. The band bops it out with abandon, demanding harmony with a punch of punk-rock attitude. You’ll be singing along after a listen or two. 

Bong buddies rejoice! Darah Saudara ushers in the return of the lumbering bass and fat stoner riffs. Humanity sleepwalks ever onward amid the violence. The ambiance is all zombification and wild oblivion. A rolling groove picks up steam, and the guitarist serves up some extra tasty licks toward the end of the track. This song delivers all the fog and fuzz a stoner metal fan could want. 

Get ready for another sick rock anthem with a purpose. Gila Kuazzar reminds the power-hungry that life is temporary and their wings will be clipped in the end. This is decidedly heavier than Melangit Terus — less pop punk, more ‘70s rock/metal. The low and resonant vocals give the track a distinctive feel. It’s a satisfying track. Standing up to oppression with heavy riffage never goes out of style. 

The band taps in some guest musicians to help make the seventh track unique. InSUN))) (Feat. Mizi & Hamzah Yazd) combines floating vocals and guttural screams with the band’s signature stoner riffs. The guitar work includes lines that harken back to traditional music of Southeast Asia, yet the composition feels wholly modern. The whole thing is glued together with a dense layer of fuzz. In the final minute, the band slams down the gas pedal and the song careens to a fiery finish. 

The album closes on Roh, four-and-a-half minutes of instrumental greened-out goodness. Zen grooves and a granite bass line that won’t fucking quit? Sign me up for a double order, please.

Here at Doom and Dead we shine a spotlight on small-time doom, drone, and psych acts that deserve more attention. A bongload of great albums dropped in April, but our pick for for this month’s juiciest nugget comes from San Diego stoners Supersonic Dragon Wagon.

If a lovechild between doom metal and the blues was nursed on a steady diet of Layne Stanley vocals, the malcontented little slacker would be Supersonic Dragon Wagon. This SoCal doom outfit has been tending their unique sound for over a decade. Their latest offering, Follow The Bones, is seven tracks of plodding doom and fuzzed-out melodies. Let’s toke up and hit play.

In My Veins is a resolute trudge with the tension of a coiled snake. The pace is slow and measured. The song builds bit by bit, almost imperceptibly, until it feels like the imprisoned protagonist could burst forth and sprint for freedom at any moment. The vocals swell with raw emotion until there’s nothing left to lose.

Follow The Bones cranks up the fuzz and slips on a pair of aviators ‘cause it’s time to blow this town. The heavy riff keeps your head bobbing and your motor running, but those wily blues vibes are always one step ahead. Running from your creditors never had so much doom metal swagger.

You stay up all night smoking and drinking, and your honey has something to say about it in the morning. Like A Rooster is an unhurried ode to to those boozy nights and bad choices. It’s blues performed at a creeping stride. A standout guitar solo moans and wails in inebriated splendor. 

The band throws their weight around with the next track. When The End Comes is a hulking slab of apocalyptic doom, complete with ponderous pacing and lingering riffs. Visions of hell loom on the horizon. This one’s bound to please my fellow trad doom devotees. See you when the end comes. 🤘

I’m Feeling Bad doubles down on the grim plodding tempo. In this black tale, a down-on-his-luck character tries his best, but finds himself with a gun in his hand to survive. It’s a dark lamentation from a man on the precipice. Clocking in at almost eight minutes, the band gives this track room to linger and develop. The backup vocal layered in near the end adds texture and emphasis to the pinnacle of the track just before things unwind and fizzle out.

Born To Die is a fuzz-soaked instrumental with funky riffs and whiskey breath. The band locks in on a groove, and we ride this psychedelic wave all the way into the final track.

The album closes on No Use At All. On paper, it’s a classic blues ballad complete with a dusty road and a handshake with the devil. But this is like no blues song you’ve ever heard. Supersonic Dragon Wagon gives it the stoner metal treatment with sloooooow riffage and barrels of fuzz. Grunge vocals add a bitter bite. It’s a shining example of what these doom-slingers do best.

Here at Doom and Dead we shine a spotlight on small-time doom, drone, and psych acts that deserve more attention. One of our favorite releases this month comes from Phoenix desert-doom outfit Great Black Swamp. 

Featuring just two songs, the Mother Earth EP is brief but mighty. The band is inspired by the inhospitable landscapes in their home state of Arizona, but that’s not what makes this band unique. Their signature sound is an amalgamation of clean singing and imposing riffs assembled at odd angles and welded together with a bead of horror movie sound effects. 

At first glance, GBS might look like a classic doom metal 4-piece with vocals, bass, guitar, and drums. But during the pandemic, the band assembled their own portable performance machine — a 5th member of sorts stitched together from a Mackie mixer, a guitar processor, a bunch of mics, beer bottles, scrap metal, and variety of found objects. Dubbed the “Swamp Tank,” this handmade leviathan helps the band create spooky sounds sure to unsettle audiences at home or on the road. 

The title track, Mother Earth, starts simply. A melancholy guitar and haunting vocals forge visions of destruction. Other instruments join the fray. Humanity’s end looks desolate and saturnine. Amid the haze of smoke and ash, the only thing certain is how undeniably heavy this composition is. Dynamic vocal work and sludgy sections are guaranteed to give your stank face a workout. The latter half of the song highlights some of the Swamp Tank’s more unconventional sound-making capabilities with foley effects worthy of a spine-tingling fright flick. A granite bass line holds things steady while the guitar whines and wanders. This song showcases everything I love about doom metal — boundless misery set to a meaty groove.

The second track on the EP is Sentient Machines. This one features a bold grungy riff that would make Tom Morello proud. Once again, the band strikes a careful balance between weightiness and euphony that makes for some damned melodious doom metal.  A raga structure gives shape to off-color effects and unexpected motifs. These arid grooves will leave you picking bones from your teeth and grit from your boots (or vice versa.)

Here at Doom and Dead we shine a spotlight on small-time doom, drone, and psych acts that deserve more attention. Our favorite release this month comes from California doom bringer Maliciouz.

This one-man machine is mining pure doom-sludge straight outta the Mojave Desert. His latest offering, Sarberus, is low, slow, and heavy as fuck — just what you’d expect from the land of big rocks and slow time. These instrumental tracks hit like a joshua tree to the face. So turn up the volume and step into the sand with me as we find out what Maliciouz has to offer.

Even Against Sorrow is a soulful trudge through desolate terrain. Solemn pacing and a dour melody paint the passage of eons. This one feels like a monument to survival against the odds. 

Wearied Repose is like a brief rest among the ruins on an arduous journey. Ponderous riffage pays its respects to the grim surroundings. With a run time of almost 9 minutes, Maliciouz gives himself plenty of room to expound on his ideas. The result is a deeply textured track with a nuanced sense of despair and solitude.

If you’re itching for something that dooms hard, then Under the Weight will cure what ails you. It’s a massive slab of loud, low riffs ready to erode your senses and drag you down to a cavernous abyss. The guitar tone will vibrate your skull off of your spine as your last shred of hope crumbles like sun-baked gypsum. 

Grab an ice pack, (and pack a bong while you’re at it,) because when Zimrah 23 comes on, you’re going to have a nasty case o’ stank face for 6 minutes straight. This one’s dark and brutal, kids. Despite a bone-shattering riff, the song is not afraid to wander away from the melody. It’s a bold move that pays off in spades. A little dissonance is the spice of life… and sometimes the scorpion in your sleeping bag.

Senescent Ruction is even slower and more funerary than the previous tracks. Like a fiery sunset stretching over the waste, the oppressive atmosphere unfolds gradually. The hypnotic slog decays into shadowy sludge one molecule at a time. Prepare to be sucked into a buzzing infernal doom hole. 

Lamentation is massive and unknowable, chugging down whole galaxies in a single gulp. Notes dive one after the other, shooting stars tumbling in the void. This composition is vast an impenetrable. Like the desert sky at night, Lamentation proves to be both imposing and humbling.

The Wilderness Feeds You is labyrinthene and heavy with a savage bite. This shit goes down like raw jackrabbit and peyote. Don’t forget to swallow.

Maliciouz closes things out with the introspective track Mezmernaut. It’s a meditative linstrumental that leaves you blinking in the stillness when it ends. You’ll find yourself staggering out of the desert in a deep trance, irreparably changed.

Maliciouz offers up funeral sludge that’s been rubbed in creosote and blistered in the sun. If you like metal with extra frills, then look elsewhere. These songs are boiled down to their essential essence and delivered at a creeping pace. Each of the 8 tracks on Sarberus brings something different to the table, but it’s clear they’re all born of the same arid wilderness. 

Sit back, crank the volume, and become one with the Mojave. 

Small bands did big things in 2024, but so many stellar releases have gone unrecognized. We sorted our picks into a few different flavors of doom for your sampling pleasure. Here are our favorites from the little guys — the stuff you won’t find on Weedian’s 100 Best Releases of 2024.

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Aussie drone sculptors, The Grey Men, hit us with a stinging slab of doom in November. These compositions are weighty and meditative, but stop shy of being impenetrable. Ringing distortion and modular synths create the perfect atmosphere to summon Sunn O)) junkies out of the woodwork.  The Shape of Noise to Come is lingering, heavy, hypnotic — a granite boulder balanced on a pebble. Drone doom aficionados should not sleep on this one.

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Berlin trio Acid Arno hit it out of the stratosphere with this release. If you like your jams scuzzy, acidic, and occasionally harrowing, then TERRA is the drug trip of your dreams. Suit up and strap in, cosmonauts. The orange skies and mystical monsters on the cover art are exactly what you’re going to be catapulted through for the next 37 minutes. 

The Wizard conjures bluesy psych trash that’s heavy on the distortion and even heavier on the jams. The Canyon Lake Sessions are chocked full of high-energy mind-bending grooves so greasy you won’t even notice when your hair sparks up and your eyeballs melt right out of their sockets. There’s a fire burning in San Antonio, and I’m pretty sure these cats have something to do with it.

If you can’t get enough of The Wizard’s hot licks, then check out another sizzling nugget the band put out this year, Live @502.

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This EP has only two tracks, but Mindbloom’s MONOLITH I serves up quality over quantity. This French stoner outfit offers instrumentals with intricate compositions and psychedelic sensibilities. Did I mention the toothsome heavy bits? It’s contemplative stuff with just enough fuzz and reverb to make it the perfect soundtrack for your next existential crisis.

If you like your stoner doom extra heavy, then Seattle’s Hexecutioner has you covered. Vocalist Erin Gravina hypnotizes as we ride wave after wave of immense riffs. This is nasty caveman riffage slathered with vintage attitude. Enough of my yappin’. Go listen to the guitar solo on the title track of Pagan Ground. 

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When Jeff Golden (ex Crowbar bassist) and Katie McCrimmon (ex The Convalescence keyboardist) join forces, you know it’s going to be epic. Their doom and sludge project, Blood of the Earth, crafts heavy soundscapes that shudder with impending doom. Pounding percussion and mesmeric melodies drive the band’s instrumental storytelling into a different realm altogether. If ominous doom packed with ill-fated drama is your thing, then I predict that you’ll love this offering.

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Alberta trio Trismegistus layer grunge vocals over stoney bass lines.  Those screamin’ psych licks are just the brown gravy on top of the poutine. Live, Laugh, Doom serves up 8 tracks of gritty, fuzzy riffage, each rocking harder than the last. If ya don’t get on this one, ya fucked up, son.

Retro 70’s/80’s camp meets modern doom for a sound that’ll rock your coffin. Occult doom rockers Voodoo Garden transmit their psychedelic sound all the way from Czechia. Witchy vocals bristle with attitude a la Susanna Hoffs (The Bangles.) Heavy riffs chase us through a B movie sets inhabited by cloaked figures and rubber masked villains. This album is Scooby-Doo spooky in the best possible way.

Grunge gurus, desert rock rippers, and stoners of all sorts should check out Barcelona band Chacal Cult. Their album is full of hypnotic jams with hard edges.  Big sky vistas and unyielding rock never sounded so good.

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Nothing beats the vitality of a live performance… but that doesn’t always translate to a good album. Fear not, because these fuckers have cracked the code and delivered our favorite live album of 2024. 

Argentine stoner doom outfit, En la Niebla, poured every drop of spit and swagger into their set at Damned Communion. The result is a collection of hard-hitting grooves that punch you in the kidneys, then kiss you goodnight. Some crazy creativity has been coming out of Argentina's music scene in recent years. If this chunky bass doesn’t make you a believer, then nothing will.

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Blackened doom beasties: if it’s treasure you seek, then look no further. Portland band Cue the Sun has a sound that’s charred black but still remarkably groovy. Their October release, Green Metal Demos, bubbles with an incredible (and sometimes noxious) sense of immediacy. They may be rough around the edges, but these filthy demos are a goblin’s delight. 

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Happy new year and a hearty rock on to all my readers. 🤘 If you like music made by humans, then support ‘em when you can. Buying music or merch from a small band makes a big difference.

Here at Doom and Dead we shine a spotlight on small-time doom, drone, and psych acts that deserve more attention. Our favorite release this month came from Canadian doom trio Heliophage.

Occult doom outfit Heliophage hails from Victoria, British Columbia. Their new EP, A Cult of Weird, Horrible People, is a spiritous serving of campy horror with just enough real world suffering to make the songs relatable. A glance at the album notes makes it clear that the band doesn’t take themselves too seriously. Each member is identified with their own malady; schizophrenia for the guitar player, Munchausen syndrome for the bassist, and, of course, Parkinson’s for the drummer. The EP was recorded in a “mold-ridden dungeon” and mixed in an “ivory tower.” Fun (and fungal) references aside, this EP has a diabolical way of getting under your skin. The weighty riffs and heinous melodies are toothsome enough to satisfy even the most discerning doom wizards. So hit play with me, and let’s get this dungeon crawl started. 

The intro track, The Sacrifice, sets the mood with B-movie dialogue laid over a bed of fuzz. Bring on the Satanic panic!

Gallows Raised rocks the stockades and rattles your manacles with fuzz-drenched grooves. The song pairs clean vocals with riffs so nasty they’ll turn your eyelids inside out. The lyrics tell the tale of an accused murderer with a monstrous surprise. This jam is sure to get every skull in the oubliette bobbing. Gallows Raised is a raucous good time stacked to the stalactites with heavy riffs, spooky imagery, and an impending sense of dread.

The band slows things down to a crawl with the lumbering tune, Disciple of Death. This vile bass line commandeers the senses, corrupts virgins, and converts the unwary to Heliophage’s black coven. A eely guitar solo reaches out through the darkness, slithering into every hole and crevice it can find. This track is temptation incarnate, a glimmering shard of doom metal in the blackness. Evil can never be fully eradicated, kids. So embrace it and be merry.

One thing I love about this EP is that Heliophage isn’t afraid to mix things up. Thirteen Against One features fast beats and growled vocals straight from the goblin’s den. The band rips through a vicious punk anthem, oozing their dank, mossy doom sensibilities all over it.

The EP closes on Malignant Hydra. This chugging brute explores medical terror and the depths of physical suffering. Dizzying riffs construct a hallucinatory nightmare. Clean and blackened vocals reflect the brutality of bodily destruction. A putrid guitar solo rips through the fabric of reality between life and death. The drum work in the final minute of the song is a thing of terrible beauty. 

Here at Doom and Dead we shine a spotlight on small-time doom, drone, and psych acts that deserve more attention. Our favorite release this month comes from an occult doom trio called Outback.

The band’s latest EP, Wytch, is the perfect listen when the air is chilled and the veil is thin. Lumbering riffs and psychotropic guitar work stalk the listener through a dizzying display of esoteric arts. The enchantment cast by the instrumentals is central to each of the three tracks. Sparse vocals, sometimes clean and sometimes nasty, add to the leaden atmosphere.

You know you’re in for a treat when that first note drops like a fucking anvil. Circle Psilocybe is a brief but potent offering. Slow and heavy wins this race. This track is an enigmatic elixir that leaves your head spinning and shadows crawling at the edge of your vision. The drum work is tight and vicious with a masterful balance between economy and complexity. 

Fern and Henbane builds gradually like a procession of cloaked figures approaching a sacred catacomb. You’re about to bear witness to an arcane ceremony not meant for human perception. Riffs unfurl at a glacial pace. Screamed vocals punctuate the track. The bass is so bulky it buzzes through walls of solid stone. The air is coppery with blood sacrifice and cosmic dread. Desperation escalates and delirium swirls. The final two minutes ensnare listeners in a delicious hallucinogenic groove before the spell unravels and the abomination dissipates back into mud. 

Malachi IV/Dying Sun is an imposing megalith, nearly 12 minutes end-to-end. It’s a proper fucking doom slog through bubbling laboratories and twisted rituals. Clean vocals rise and fall in harmony with the blackness. Geometric riffs turn the band’s prog sensibilities into gold. Instruments are stripped away, only to build back drip by psychedelic drip. We bliss out on cosmic waves. A wailing guitar shimmers over a throaty bass line. The band chugs it out until gravity is back in full force. Grip your broomsticks tight, folks, because this one’s a hell of a ride. 

Here at Doom and Dead we shine a light on underrated doom, drone, and psych releases that deserve more attention. This month’s pick is NJ doom outfit Jackals' Feast. 

Jackals’ Feast aimed to play straight-up doom metal… but strange things happen when the blues runs in your veins. Like whiskey aged in an oak barrel, the music took on the flavors of the band’s other interests. Horror and gothic Americana leeched their way in, and the resulting brand of doom metal sounds like nothing else. The band’s debut album, Lost in the Forest and Tormented by Demons, is a collection of tragic tales, each more hopeless and tortured than the last. Now let’s grab a spot by the fire and take a swig of what Jackals’ Feast has to offer. 

The album opens on Prayer to Crom. Caveman beats lead us into this epic ballad. The song is constructed from slow, lumbering riffs scraped raw with bluesy vocals. The band conveys all the despair and resolve of the barbarian’s struggle on a frigid mountainside. The vocals ooze with pain and betrayal. Energy builds and that overdrive kicks in, rocking us out to the finish. 

The fuzz has rolled in. With the title track, Lost in the Forest and Tormented by Demons, we find ourselves alone in the woods caught in a hopeless situation. This 8-minute behemoth is the cornerstone of the album. It’s a grim plodder with a dense atmosphere and riffs guaranteed to trigger stank face in 9 out of 10 doomheads. Some legendary noodling on the strings drives the stakes even higher. Eventually, the drums abandon the track and we float through a hypnotic drone.

Dig Your Own Grave is true to its name.The monstrous riffs take on a little more twang, framing the vocalist’s resonant voice. It’s a one-on-one execution in the woods with no means of escape. The bluesman croons about swinging a shovel for your own burial pit. It’s heart-wrenching, gravel-gulping doom slathered in BBQ sauce. Mashed Potato Johnson would be proud.

For Death and Glory is a call to arms in the face of certain doom. The orcs have charged the gates and your walled city is falling around you. Faced with the annihilation, you no choice but to battle onwards. Galloping riffs and throaty cries spur us on to both glory and destruction. 

With Blood and Black Magic (Tower of the Elephant) is the sorrowful saga of a being who once soared the cosmos, but is now trapped and tortured on Earth. Jackals’ Feast creates an ambiance of suffering. The haunting track cracks open near the end, offering a glimpse at the protagonist’s searing rage. A spell is cast and vengeance is taken for a lifetime stolen. 

Get ready for another sleepless night struggling under the burden of the unknowable. The Crushing Weight of the Infinite is an out-of-body journey beyond place and time. Fuzz is cast over the landscape like starlight. Hulking riffs drone on in boundless space. The protagonist slides back into his body, unfulfilled and suffocating under the enormity of his incomprehension. The singer’s evocative storytelling seems to channel Eddie Vedder at times. It’s a powerful lamentation you won’t want to miss.

Here at Doom and Dead we shine a light on the doom, drone, and psych acts you’ve never heard of. Every month we choose a new release that deserves more attention than it’s gotten. This month’s pick is from the Virginia band Druid Stone. 

Take stoner doom and acid rock. Now mash them together and throw them against the wall in your parents’ basement. Unspool a VHS tape of your favorite black and white horror movie and toss that on for good measure. Light the whole thing on fire. Poke through that ashes with a broken guitar pickup and that’s where you’ll find Druid Stone, the passion project of Demeter Capsalis. Druid Stone’s new LP, Undead Poets Society, embodies a love of homemade music in its purest form, complete with shitty mics and devil-may-care swagger. The songs on Undead Poets Society approach prickly topics like suicide and self-destructive behavior with a wink and a nod. Nothing is off limits. Every track oozes with the rock-and-roll attitude of a misfit unapologetically living out loud. So slip this one under your tongue and join me for a meeting of the Undead Poets Society. 

Bride of Satan comes barreling out of the gate ready to get high and kick ass. It’s a wild psychedelic jam with a 3-foot thick layer of scuzz on top — a fitting ode to a monstrous relationship. 

Little Wing (Neil Young cover) is a trippy take on a mellow folk classic. It’s a song that finds beauty in every season, now made cheekier and darker. The album notes say “inspiration by LSD and satan,” and that’s exactly what what Druid Stone brings to this cover.

The Wood of Self-Murderers Waltz is a morose little ditty that feels like it’s informed by the previous track. There may be a folksy twist to the melody, but this creation is 100% Druid Stone right down to its gushing mutant heart. The song’s lyrics are from the perspective of someone who already committed suicide, a doleful tale cautioning any who continue down this path. Things take a sharp turn and our surroundings become more ominous. The band’s signature doomed psychedelia takes over. There’s cacophony over the airwaves. Audio clips from Dawn of the Dead carve out space between ecstatic riffs.

With growling lows and a wailing guitar, The 13th Floor is one of the heaviest hitters on the LP. This track is as self-destructive and disillusioned as they come — a manic rock golem sutured up with searing psychedelic licks and incubated in a vat of fuzz. Capsalis’ brassy attitude shines through the chaos, reminding us “baby, we can jump if we get bored.” Halfway through, things grind down to a lumbrous doom metal crawl.  The track tunnels down lower and slower until the riff hits bedrock and the spell gradually unravels. 

Killing a Vampire (for A.C.F.) is melodic and melancholy with a blush of anger that would make Alanis proud. Not fooled by a vampire with a “suave facade,” Capsalis vows to kill him over and over from one life to the next. It’s the perfect anthem for your next breakup or that boss that whose bullshit you see right through. 

The centerpiece of the LP is Undead Poets Society. The bass line grabs control from the very beginning, kicking in your door and strapping a rocket under your ass. Druid Stone rides the riff across the sky all the way to the fucking moon. It’s an LSD-fueled tumble through the cosmos with a catchy hook you’ll be humming all day. There might not be any escape for the undead, but with riffs like these, just leave my ass here in hell.

The album closes on (Lately I feel like) I’m Begging, Shelob. It’s a melancholy tune portending an ominous fate and pleading for the sweet relief of sedation. The acid trip rolls on with doomy licks and visions of destruction. Wild effects wander the landscape as apocalyptic riffs rain down. The last vestiges of the song linger and I find myself clinging on, not ready for things to end. 

Undead Poets Society is a revolving door of homespun movie monsters, each laid bare and framed in fuzz. Every wart and hump (heh heh) is on display in all its unabashed glory. Druid Stone’s black sense of humor is a magical elixir that permeates the senses and gives everything new life. Many of the songs on this LP feel like tongue-in-cheek warnings from creatures who could not save themselves. I recommend this to ill-fated ghouls, unabashed kooks, and all those who go bump in the night. 

I’ll let you in on a little secret: I’m dead. I collapsed ten years ago. Momentum has carried my lifeless body forward, but entropy will eventually have its way. 

Ghosthood can be isolating. So many joys of the living are out of reach. Touch and taste may be long gone, but music still holds sway over my incorporeal form. For a specter perched on a jagged rock in the middle of the abyss, plodding riffs and endless drones are the only things that move my listless spirit. 

That’s where Skellig’s new album comes in. Resonance of Our Dolmen is a beautifully carved slab of doomgaze. This instrumental solo project is sparse without being simple — minimal but wholly complete. 

I don’t usually hang out with breathers, but I could make an exception if there’s some gnarly fucking doom on the agenda. Join me on this remote outcropping and we can both take in the drone at the edge of eternity. 

The album opens on Supplication at Dawn’s Egress. You know you’re in for a treat when a track starts out heavy and gets HEAVIER. The riff trudges forward, grim but insistent. We slog through an endless waste, haunted by cumbrous riffs and melancholy scuzz. 

Under the Pall of an Obsidian Sky chugs us through desolate terrain thick with distortion. The fuzz recedes in a moment of clarity as we approach the bridge. The central riff glitters like snow on the charred remains of a burned out trestle. Just as we reach the other side of the crevasse, the fuzz rolls back in and the landscape is once again obscured.

Between Breaths makes for a pleasantly proggy palate cleanser. The clean, layered ditty revolves, hypnotizing the listener like a spinning top. 

Consequence is for What Remains is a looming megalith, ominous and unknowable. As the song burrows deeper, a vast and terrifying structure is exposed. The track is unyielding and oppressive but resonates with an arcane power that’s impossible to ignore. We may not have unearthed the beast, but we must bear the repercussions for awakening it.  

Resonance of Our Dolmen is the capstone of the album. Monotonous strumming sculpts a hefty drone.  A cluster of beehive huts shiver alone in the wasteland. Labored melodies haunt the barren expanse. This is 9 minutes and 50 seconds of intense instrumentals with an onerous ringing tone. Skellig finds rapture here at the brink of oblivion. 

Buenos Aires dooms. Argentine bands have a smoky, bold flavor that goes down easy. Maybe the local atmosphere is fueling all that creativity, or maybe it’s the chori and maté. Whatever it is, bands from BA just have a certain sizzle. If you’re not already familiar with Bueno Aires doom metal, then June’s releases offer an ideal tasting menu. 

APPETIZER

Martes Negro’s latest single, Cenizas, is a savory bite of stoner riffage with a vicious side. This Spanish language banger snarls its way through the first half, then gets low and slow, clocking in at a perfect 4:20. If you dig this offering, their previous single is equally toothsome. 

MAIN COURSE

For the main course, I recommend one-man doom project, Lobo is Mute. His 6-track EP titled Home? I Have No Home is bursting with groove-soaked instrumentals. 

There’s a lot to digest here. Trip To Old Willows Place chugs its way to stoner doom oblivion, dripping with meaty goodness all the while. 

Get ready to green out. Hunted and Despised takes a walk through that sweet emerald haze. The composition feels improvised and alive. I dare you not to nod along. 

Professor Strowski is Dead cements Lobo is Mute’s title as a one-man trip machine.This track oozes with psychedelic swagger. A slow groove spirals out around a central riff, a fractal of explorations both funky and menacing.

Pull the Strink!!! tugs those heavy gauges over hills and valleys. It’s a melodic experimental jam with a pounding quality. 

The title track, Home? I Have No Home chugs deeper into sinister territory with weighty riffs and off-the-wall runs. This is an unorthodox hunk of metal that refuses to take the form of any mold. 

The album closes on Dr. Eric Vornoff Was Stoned, a manic jam ready to obliterate your skull and set your hair ablaze. 

DESSERT

If you’ve got a sweet tooth for avant-garde doom, then the latest collab between Monovoth and Ber Stinco will be the dulce de leche in your alfajores. On Elogio a la Noche, Ber Stinko’s gritty, wavering vocals creep through Monovoth’s desolate musical landscapes. It’s spoken word poetry floating in a syrup of atmospheric drones and funerary melodies. The artists describe the project as a “monument to darkness and introspection.” Every track on this EP is its own tiny universe, but a taught thread runs through each— a struggle between stillness and sound, dreams and nightmares.

I hope you’re wearing rubber boots because top-notch releases have been dropping out of the sky all month long.

Today we’re shining a spotlight on a smaller band you might have missed -- an icy hailstone of dour drone doom. Imrryr’s latest offering, “By then we'll be dust and the regrets of others,” grapples with the theme of strife under tyranny. Don’t let this one float past without giving it a listen. 

This NY solo project is equal parts hypnotic ambient electronica and soul-crushing funeral doom, mixed thoroughly, and seasoned with a dash of tart political malice. There’s an emphasis on dank, disconsolate riffs. If you’re expecting the songs to be forbidding and cheerless… well, they absolutely are. But that’s not all they are. 

“It” has a dissonant, experimental flavor.

“will” weaves in passages of sweeping cinematic beauty at a creeping pace. 

“not” is a mournful slog with keys prodding you devilishly from behind. It’s an everlasting struggle under oppressive weight.

“be” tags in a big orchestral sound. 

“this” is every bit as majestic and and somber as synths can be. 

“way” is a particular favorite. This track plucks a star from the ether by adding space rock to the mix. Resonant drone and twinkling synths float in the orbit of behemoth riffs. Turn the volume up and lose yourself in the atmosphere.

The album culminates with “forever.” This lengthy dirge plods through a grave-strewn landscape following the wavering light of righteousness in the distance. Forlorn pacing and majestic riffs form a mighty sepulcher. A galloping bridge lifts the flame high. It’s a modern take on the classic pairing of doom metal and an epic struggle. 

Our picks for April’s most under-appreciated releases feature some shiny new faces and bands that have rocked our socks before. 

Stoner Doom from Copenhagen

From the world of stoner doom, Goatsmoker brings us the growling single Gods of Gunzilla. The band’s Insta describes the track as “doomy AF.” True to their word, Goatsmoker delivers six minutes of face-squashing, slab-dragging goodness. This trudging track is the second single since their debut album in 2022. 

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Sludge Doom from British Columbia

For those of you who like our doom niiiiiiice and sludgy, it’s time to shake hands with severed arm. Their new 4-track LP, Reaching Murderous for the Banker’s Neck, is visceral and hideous. You won’t be able to turn away. Samples from Werner Herzog movies and other nihilistic works act as sutures keeping this throbbing abomination from leaking pus everywhere. Strap on your PPE and wade into the plodding, down-tuned sludge.

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Psychedelic Metal from Poland

This isn’t the first time we’ve covered a The Howling Eye release, and with the mind-melting psych they’ve been putting out, it probably won’t be the last. This month the Polish trio released a recording of their show at Rifffields Festival 2022. All five songs drip with the energy and sizzle that only a live performance can offer. Things start out introspective and spacey with the medicated track, Erf. Intensity builds. We ride the rainbow for over 13 minutes, staggering through valleys and galloping over riff-topped peaks. The other tracks in the set are cherry-picked from The Howling Eye’s back catalog. Each piece is funkier and more psychotropic than the last. The gods of groove are smiling down at this offering. 

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Psych Rock/Sludge from Phoenix

If sludgy desert rock curls your toes, then Phoenix psych fiends Slow Drawl have what you need. Their debut EP, Pile of Bones, will rattle your teeth and shake your coccyx. The bluesy riffs and punk swagger oozing out of Skeleton King send listeners careening through the Sonoran Desert on a peyote trip for the ages. It’s intoxicated, loose, and brassy. After all, “ Need some flesh. Got shit to do. I’ve got some books that are due back soon.” 

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Drone Doom from Louisiana

Dhyana is a one-man dronesmith who shapes Buddhist meditation and doom metal together like sand in a zen garden. We’ve vibed with his mind-altering heavy drones once before… okay, twice.  Bodhicitta is the band’s eighth full-length album since 2021, yet the sterling quality of Dhyana’s releases never waivers. Commenter Pat said it best, 

“Wake up

See email

Buy Album

Every time.”

Spoken like a true acolyte, Pat. We’re with you.

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Hey hey, my little garbage goblins. The moon is waning and the end of the month is nigh. It’s time to talk about the best doom, drone, and psych releases you missed in March.

Some stellar doom metal dropped this month, but there’s one release everyone has been sleeping on. Negation I by Inverted Barrows is 16 straight minutes of heart-wringing, soul-interning funeral doom. This solo project out of Cincinnati is a lumbering slog to the center of hopelessness, complete with ethereal melodies, infernal growls, and pacing so slow that I’m STILL waiting for the next beat to drop. Don’t let the glacial drum beat fool you — Inverted Barrows continually stretches and contracts the tension on this track as if it was its own instrument. If you haven’t yet joined the candlelight vigil for humanity, then hit play and join the procession. 

And incredible bounty of good drone metal dropped in March, but one EP stands apart from the pack. Doom Vigil I by Chthonic Rites was recorded at Old First Reformed Church in Brooklyn, giving it that full, resonant sound that only massive limestone architecture can impart. The sister tracks on this EP, Luna Winds pts. 1 and 2 were recorded live at an event for the weary. The trio weaves a tapestry of sweeping gloom and drained despair. The tracks are as grim as they are hypnotic. The dismal drone and evocative audio on Doom Vigil I are truly a divine pairing. 🙏

If you need a little psychedelic palate cleanser, my recommendation this month is Navegando al Paraiso by Snakes Don’t Belong In Alaska. Drop into SDBIA’s improvised dreamscapes peppered with sounds from the natural world. On Eternal Sunday chirping birds and running water are intertwined with world-melting riffs in a cosmic jam session. My Void is Full of Colour has a mellow folk rock head and a blazing plasma tail. Cosmology and biology collide when snippets of a scientific lecture peek through the kaleidoscopic groove. 

We’ve reached the end of February, darklings, and with the passing of another birthday I’m another step closer to the grave. Here’s what cropped up this month (besides that one snow-white pube…)

— FEBRUARY FUNERAL DOOM —

The album that whispered sweet nothings in my ear this month was Pleroma Mortem Est by Monovoth. I’ve covered this Argentinian drone doom project before, but Monovoth continues to set the bar higher with every release. If you’re looking for a soundtrack to our collective plod toward nothingness, then this is it. 

Clamor Resonat is particularly introspective, with a distant howl drawing ever nearer. This funerary slog has the slowest of builds, but manages to avoid predictability at every turn. When the next note finally drops it’s low and slow enough to satisfy the most discerning doomheads.

Despite its brevity, Somnia stands out with its shimmering guitar tone in the sparse atmosphere. It’s unquestionably one of the most beautiful doom arrangements I’ve heard in a while. 

If Somnia is all lunar radiance, then Denique Mors is the dark side of the moon. This one’s an agonized dirge with an experimental spirit. This gritty offering toys with texture and intensity. Brutal guest vocals by Lindsay O’ Connor help usher us through the gates of hell. 

If you like Dylan Carlson’s sound, but wish it was more ponderous and grim, then this shit's for you. These tracks struggle with their own mortality in a sundowning world. Join the procession, and grab this on Bandcamp before your own lights go out.

— A SWEET DRONE RELEASE —

If dark ambient soundscapes are your thing, then you’ll wave your antennae with glee to know that drone master insectarium just dropped the necrophage emerges divine. Wriggle right into this sonic cocoon as we journey through the lowest moments in life and out the other side. Owlripper Recordings is always generous with their music, so scuttle down to the bottom of the Bandcamp page to find the link for a free download code. 

— SAVORY SINGLES —

Long Beach doom cats O ZORN! have been serving up post-hardcore goodness lately with a string of singles. My favorite has got to be Slow Mood. Like the monster that lives in your bedroom, this brooding earworm skulks in the corner, but its hulking frame is impossible to ignore. I swear you’re going to be humming this shit all day.

February also brought us Bow Down by Detroit’s Temple Of The Fuzz Witch. It’s some properly fucking fuzzed-out blackened doom. It’s thick as tar and absolutely vicious. I want to climb into a vat of this and bathe in it until I turn into the creature from the black metal lagoon.