Genres: Gothic County, Psychedelic Rock

Label: Blues Funeral

Location: Austin, TX, USA

A Nocturnal Tumble Through Soundscapes

If "Holus Bolus" were a painting, it would be one of those deeply unsettling surrealist works that, at first glance, seems peaceful but leaves you wondering if the landscape will swallow you whole at any moment. Lord Buffalo, a band whose name conjures images of prairie winds and lonely horizons, has crafted an album that feels less like a collection of songs and more like an ethereal road trip—through forgotten wilderness, desolate towns, and the recesses of your own mind.

Let’s start with the basics: the album is a quiet, slow-burner, yet somehow, it’s all-consuming. Imagine stepping into a dusty bar at dusk. The hum of an old ceiling fan, the smell of bourbon on the air, and the murmur of distant conversations. You take a seat, and the band starts playing—soft at first, then swelling into something both dangerous and hypnotic. “Holus Bolus” lures you in with its minimalist instrumentation and subtle melodies, but don’t get too comfortable. The music is always watching you, waiting to ask something unsettling.

Take the opening track “Holus Bolus,” for example. You’re not sure whether the band is serenading you or beckoning you into some kind of existential abyss. The vocals feel almost like whispers rather than lines sung—a sort of invocation to the listener, guiding you into the album's strange world. The tremolo guitars, coupled with muted percussion, create an atmosphere where shadows are always just a beat behind, creeping closer.

There’s an odd comfort in the discomfort that defines "Holus Bolus." It’s as though you’ve been handed a map of a place that doesn’t quite exist, and yet it’s too familiar. With “Slow Drug,” there’s an eerie warmth, like a memory you can’t quite place, but the isolation in the sound reminds you of an unsettling dream you had years ago. The song crawls and shifts, almost as if it’s asking you to rethink what you’re hearing, like a song trying to escape the limitations of sound itself.

Lord Buffalo doesn’t play by the rules of typical album structure. Here, time is more of a fluid concept. "Holus Bolus" ebbs and flows like a slow-moving river—you float in and out of states of consciousness. The rhythm section is ghostly, anchored in a hypnotic pulse, while the guitars seem to oscillate between moments of clarity and abstraction. There's something almost cosmic about how these instruments interact, drawing on the slow, deliberate movement of stargazing. And just as the stars flicker out of view when you least expect it, so do the songs. You’re left with echoes, lingering and unsure whether they’ll ever fully fade.

One might argue that Lord Buffalo is tapping into a vast wilderness of American folk, but they’re also doing something much stranger and more mysterious. Their music pulls from that same land but refuses to give you the map. It leaves you in a liminal space, unsure of whether you’re in a world of human experience or something more mythical.

“Holus Bolus” is an album for those who enjoy being unsettled but don’t mind being pulled deeper into that unsettling void. It’s for those who have found comfort in silence, who understand that the scariest things are often the quietest. There’s a feeling that the record is more than just something to listen to—it’s an invitation to step into something undefined, and maybe, just maybe, to get lost there for a while.

By the end of the album, you may not know where you’ve been, but you will know you’ve been somewhere.

Genres: Hard Rock, Heavy Metal

Label: Dying Victims

Location: Brampton, Canada

"Dark Sky Sanctuary" by Freeways is a captivating album that blends classic rock influences with modern sensibilities. The Canadian band, known for their nostalgic yet fresh take on rock music, has delivered a record that feels both timeless and contemporary.

The album opens with a strong, riff-driven sound that immediately sets the tone for what's to come: an exploration of heavier, more atmospheric rock. From the first track, Freeways shows their skill in crafting melodies that feel expansive yet rooted in gritty guitar work, with echoes of 70s and 80s rock, particularly in the vein of bands like Thin Lizzy and early Iron Maiden. This blend of hard rock, heavy metal, and a bit of glam is what makes "Dark Sky Sanctuary" so appealing to fans of classic rock, while also keeping things grounded in the present.

One of the standout features of the album is its consistency in tone. While each track has its own identity, they all feel like they belong to the same sonic landscape. The guitars are thick and powerful, driving the rhythm and layering beautifully with the atmospheric synths. The vocal performance is another high point, offering a gritty yet melodic quality that complements the music without overwhelming it.

The songs like stand out not just for their catchiness but for the way they create a certain atmosphere — you can almost feel the imagery of a dark, sprawling cityscape or a haunting nighttime drive. Freeways knows how to balance accessibility with complexity, making their music both an easy listen and one that rewards deeper attention.

However, "Dark Sky Sanctuary" is not without its moments of introspection. Some tracks show a more reflective side, with slower tempos and more layered arrangements. These songs allow the listener to catch their breath before diving back into the more energetic, high-octane tracks, giving the album an ebb and flow that keeps it engaging.

In terms of production, the album shines with its clean yet full sound. There's an attention to detail in the mixing, where the guitars, bass, drums, and vocals all sit in a space that feels spacious and powerful without becoming muddled. The blend of old-school rock and modern production sensibilities makes "Dark Sky Sanctuary" stand out in today's rock scene, offering something for fans of classic rock while pushing the boundaries just enough to feel fresh.

In conclusion, "Dark Sky Sanctuary" is a triumph for Freeways. It combines rich, nostalgic rock elements with a modern twist, delivering a captivating listening experience from start to finish. Whether you're a long-time rock enthusiast or newer to the genre, there's a lot to appreciate here, from the infectious hooks to the atmospheric depth. This album proves that Freeways is a band to watch in the evolving landscape of rock music.

Genres: Post-Punk, Post-Hardcore, Synth Punk

Label: Fysisk Format

Location: Tromsø, Norway

Heave Blood & Die's Burnout Codes is the auditory equivalent of a high-speed chase through a dystopian dreamscape—disorienting, violent, yet oddly cathartic. If you find the comforting hum of “background music” soothing, then this record might just be a survival guide to something far more exhilarating (and potentially dangerous).

This is an album that dares you to dive headfirst into the muck of Norwegian post-punk, sludge, and experimental noise, without bothering to leave you a lifeline. The band, already known for their musical chaos, have conjured an album that could be likened to a high-voltage fistfight with a machine, where the machine doesn’t stop, and neither does the fist. From the first track, Burnout Codes establishes an insatiable hunger—each riff is a slow-motion crash, each drum hit a reckoning. The frenetic pace of the album is relentless, and the jagged production leaves no room for escape or breath. It's a pressure cooker that continuously steams, threatening to explode at any given second.

Vocals? Not so much “vocals” as they are raw, throat-shredding yells—more visceral outbursts than lyrical lines. The lyrics themselves feel like disjointed fragments of an inner dialogue unraveling, disconnected but undeniably poignant. There's something thrillingly cryptic in the repetition of these dissonant chants—they don’t need to make sense to feel urgent.

But let’s not be fooled. This isn’t a bludgeoning of sound for the sake of sound. No, there’s intention here. Amid the noise, Burnout Codes offers moments of profound contemplation, like seeing through a haze, just before your mind overloads. Some tracks sound like they're being filtered through a fog of broken amps and smoldering embers, yet there’s an eerie calm in the chaos, a resignation to the process of self-destruction.

When the guitars do step back, and the drums lock into a rhythm that almost feels like something resembling normalcy, it's brief—like a mirage in the desert, only to be swallowed up by the next wave of distorted intensity. It’s almost like Heave Blood & Die are testing how far they can push you to the brink of collapse without fully losing control of the vehicle.

If there’s any takeaway from Burnout Codes, it’s this: it’s not an album to listen to. It’s an album to be immersed in. It’s an experience, not a set of songs to casually consume while sipping coffee. You will find easy hooks but above you’ll find energy, frustration, release, and noise—sublime and ugly, absurd and vital, like the strange sensation of a moment caught between a crash and the aftermath.

Forget conventional. This is a wrecking ball of an album—a collision of sound and psyche that leaves you not quite whole, but alive.

Genres: Stoner Metal, Heavy Psych, Traditional Doom Metal

Label: Copper Feast

Location: Sydney, Australia

An Astral Walk Through the Wastes of Cosmic Psyche

The title Astral Wanderer could not be more appropriate for this album by Iron Blanket. It feels less like an album and more like a collection of whispered secrets from the farthest reaches of our collective consciousness, shared by a band that has transcended the material world to live solely within the folds of cosmic dust. If you came expecting to have your mind gently shaken in the way you’d expect from a traditional psychedelic rock album, think again. Iron Blanket isn’t interested in taking you on a stroll through the usual groovy, sun-kissed meadows. No, they’ve instead taken you on a meandering journey through a barren desert, illuminated only by the dim, flickering lights of distant stars.

The first track, “Evil Mind,” might as well be the soundtrack to an intergalactic drifting session—its elongated riffs echo like the deep rumblings of an alien planet as they stretch into infinity. These riffs, reverberating with some cryptic intensity, break free from the usual confines of structure. Forget the song; this is a mood. You’re not following the rhythm; you’re floating in it, spiraling along like cosmic debris.

Then, there’s the unnerving “Kookaburra Nightmare,” a track that explores the darker side of this astral journey. The vocals—distant, almost indistinguishable at times—whisper to you like a voice from within your own mind, questioning reality itself. There’s an eerie calm here, not unlike watching a supernova collapse in slow motion, knowing that something monumental is happening but unsure whether you should feel awe or terror. It’s this atmospheric uncertainty that the band builds so beautifully—constantly teetering on the edge of tranquility and unease.

The last track “Astral Wanderer” feels like the album’s "high" point, but only in the sense that a fever dream might be considered the pinnacle of one’s unconscious escapade. The guitar leads are almost uncomfortably hypnotic, looping in disorienting spirals as if the band members themselves are caught within a celestial whirlpool, their instruments caught in a gravitational pull of noise and reverb.

What makes Astral Wanderer truly special is its ability to transport you. Iron Blanket doesn’t just write songs; they build worlds. Each track is a small dimension unto itself, an isolated realm that can both comfort and disquiet you in equal measure. It’s not about catchy hooks or radio-friendly melodies here—this is about creating space, a sonic space where every pause between notes feels as significant as the notes themselves. The most extraordinary thing? These musicians aren't trying to be profound; they’re simply existing in this strange sonic landscape. The profundity arises organically, seeping through the music like a forgotten memory. In that sense, it’s both effortless and deeply introspective.

And yet, the strange beauty of Astral Wanderer comes from how disconnected it feels from the world it originates in. The Australian landscape, while undeniably influential, feels absent here. You can’t imagine this album being made on Earth, let alone the southern hemisphere. It belongs somewhere between planets, in the stretches of space that mock earthly gravity. Is this cosmic rock? Possibly. Is it alien jazz? Maybe. All definitions seem to collapse under the weight of what Iron Blanket is doing here.

The album concludes with “Tongue of Time,” which would be an easy track to overlook—its majestic and elegiac guitar work seems to close the cosmic chapter without resolution. But it lingers with you, like the fading scent of incense after the ritual has ended. The ambiguity of it allows the listener to drift off, wondering if this journey was ever truly finished. And maybe that’s the point: Astral Wanderer isn’t an album you conclude; it’s one you exist within.

So, if you're seeking something conventional—something neatly packaged with a clear beginning, middle, and end—turn back now. But if you’re ready to wander aimlessly through the cosmos, unsure of what you might encounter but knowing that it’s going to leave an impression, then Astral Wanderer is the soundtrack for your soul's next great odyssey. This is not a passive listen. It’s an invitation to explore, to get lost, and to find meaning in the vast expanse of sound.

Genres: Sludge Metal, Noise Rock, Post-Hardcore

Label: Thrill Jockey

Location: Philadelphia, PA, USA

Eye Flys is the explosive second album from the band of the same name, and it lands with the kind of raw power and intensity that can only come from a collection of musicians who have honed their craft in the hardcore and punk scenes. This album presents a thrilling, chaotic journey through dissonant, high-octane soundscapes that are as unforgiving as they are captivating.

The band, consisting of members from other notable acts like Backslider and Common Enemy, brings a wealth of experience to the table, and it shows in the sheer dynamism of the music. The album offers a blend of hardcore, sludge metal, and noise rock, with the energy of punk rock and the brutality of extreme metal creating an album that feels as visceral as it is innovative.

From the very first track, "Trepanation Summer," Eye Flys establishes a sense of urgency. Gritty guitars and throbbing bass lines are punctuated by brutal drums, creating a swirling, almost suffocating atmosphere. There's an inescapable tension throughout the album, as if the music itself is pushing the listener to the edge. The riffs are pummeling, the pace relentless, and the production creates a sense of claustrophobia, leaving no room for breath or reprieve.

Vocally, the album is a mix of guttural, raw shouting and primal screams, perfectly fitting the chaotic nature of the music. The lyrics are often obtuse, more focused on evoking a mood of frustration, alienation, and aggression than telling a linear story. This is music that doesn’t invite you in with easy hooks or melodies—it demands your attention and offers no apologies for its abrasive approach.

"Sleep Forever" is one of the standout tracks on the album, with its relentless riffing and forceful percussion. The track’s heaviness builds in waves, creating a sense of mounting pressure that eventually bursts into a wall of sound that feels both exhilarating and suffocating.

"Tuck & Roll" showcases the band’s ability to incorporate some subtle atmospheric elements within the chaos. The track opens with eerie, dissonant tones before plunging into a heavy barrage of distortion and feedback. The contrast between these moments of brief calm and the ensuing onslaught adds complexity to the otherwise straightforward aggression.

"Feeding Regression" is another highlight, one of the more cathartic tracks on the album. It takes the listener through various stages, from a grinding, slow-motion doom riff to a faster, more frenzied pace that feels like a release of built-up tension. It’s a thrilling ride that showcases the band’s ability to seamlessly shift between tempos and dynamics.

Lyrically, Eye Flys deals with the alienation and emotional dissonance often associated with intense, post-industrial life. There is a feeling of being consumed by one’s surroundings, with many tracks exploring themes of burnout, frustration, and the feeling of being trapped in an inescapable loop. The album's imagery is often nightmarish and abstract, adding to the overall sense of unease and discomfort.

However, while the album is undeniably bleak, there's also an undeniable catharsis in the way the band channels this anger and disillusionment into their music. Eye Flys doesn’t shy away from darkness—it amplifies it.

In conclusion, Eye Flys is a stunning album that pulls no punches. It’s a savage, primal album that demands to be heard, even if it’s not always easy to listen to. The band’s fusion of hardcore, sludge, and noise rock offers a visceral listening experience, one that’s both challenging and exhilarating. It’s a record that rewards patience, revealing its nuances over time despite its initial assault on the senses.

For fans of bands like Pissed Jeans, and Unsane, Eye Flys will feel like a natural, if brutal, next step in the evolution of the underground music scene. With their second album, Eye Flys has made it clear that they are a force to be reckoned with in the world of extreme music.