Some memories are so embarrassing that you want to bury them and bury them deep, never to be found. One embarrassing moment is the Rigello rip-off on Walpurgis Night in 1978 (or was it 1979?). Walpurgis Night is the night of April 30th, an old pagan rite which has become Christianized. In older German folklore this is believed to be the night of a witches' meeting in the Harz Mountains, a mountain range in central Germany. Local variants of Walpurgis Night are observed throughout Europe in the Netherlands, Germany, the Czech Republic, Slovenia, Sweden, Lithuania, Latvia, Finland, and Estonia. In Sweden we light bonfires to scare off witches. April 30th marks the last the day of winter and the first day of spring. It's also a good excuse to get totally wasted. It was a part of our learning curve. When you are 16 years old and live in a small town this required a plan. We were far too young to buy alcohol ourselves. You could ask an older liberal sibling if you had one. A last option was to ask one of the two notorious town drunks. You waited for them outside Systembolaget (liquor store monopoly). Sooner or later they showed up. For a small percentage they were happy to be at service. The two town drunks had hearing problems and a short attention span. They were sometimes mildly intoxicated which added to the difficulty level. You had to shout out your order. Then repeat it a couple of times. By the nature of things the order couldn't be too comprehensive or complicated. The town drunks handed over the alcohol around the corner out of sight from the store (they were town drunks, not village idiots). This procedure was embarrassing, humiliating and risky. You could get exposed in the small town where everybody knew everybody.         

One of the guys in our loosely knit group of friends came up with a solution. His old man could supply the beverages for this occasion. His parents were divorced and I think the grand gesture was an example of misguided benevolence. No downsides, only upsides. No risk exposure, just-in-time delivery and no need to hide the alcohol under an uprooted tree in the forest until later (it was too risky to bring it home). For some inexplicable reason we had all agreed upon that we should attend the Walpurgis celebrations in the nearby sleepy locality (3 200 inhabitants). In hindsight, you can wonder why. We met at the bonfire area with great expectations. Our guy showed up with a strained facial expression. He had bad news. We had paid for cans (45 cl, aproximately 15 oz). We got bottles (33 cl, aproximately 11 oz) instead. And it was so called Rigello plastic bottles. Rigello was as an alternative to existing metal and glass beverage containers launched by packaging giant Tetra Pak. The small plastic bottle had a printed paper sleeve, and its low weight and price made it an economical choice for carbonated beverages. It was supposedly an environmentally friendly biodegradable bottle. You could throw it away in the nature while knowing you were creating fertile mulch. Later, it turned out that the plastic bottles weren’t biodegradable. They can still be found here and there. The can and bottle confusion led to discontent and dispute. The excuses were lame and varied from a mistake to parental second thoughts about the purchased quantity. In either case, we didn't get the difference back. Not explicitly expressed, but understood, was that we had been ripped off. The whole situation was embarrassing for all concerned. 

I don't remember who was responsible for the choice of place and the grounds for it, but clearly a terrible mistake had been made. This was a family-friendly evening by a lake with bonfire, choir, bun sale and lottery. "Maybe the families will go home and the real party will begin", said one of the guys. He was an optimist by nature. Hour after hour went by. We drank our beer and the alcohol began to kick in. It was a disaster, no matter of how you looked at it. We wobbled around and bellowed without aim and purpose. We probably scared off some families in advance. The harsh truth became abundantly clear as we began to sober up. This is as good as it gets. We stood there, while the bonfire burned down to glowing coals. Nobody said anything, but I think we all agreed. We must never ever speak of this again.  

     

Stephen Canner, Lynne Adele and Stefan Keydel formed The Victor Mourning (TVM) in Austin, TX in 2008. They released their one and only album "A Handful of Locusts" in 2010. Between 2010–2017 the band members were divided between Texas and Tennessee, and relocated back to Austin in 2018. Thereafter, TVM agreed on a new musical direction. According to themselves "you’ll still recognize the stripped-down underpinnings of our acoustic hillbilly noir sound, but you might also notice a bit more texture and an extra layer of psychedelic folk among our wide-ranging influences." To reflect the new direction, TVM shed skin and changed their name to Swarme of Beese (old-time spelling). When the Obscurometer were still functioning, which measured the obscurity of an artist from 0 (no obscurity) to 100 percent (total obscurity), TVM scored 96,4 percent. With an obscurity rate of this scale, changing your name isn't exactly something that a market strategist would suggest. This would probably make the band even more obscure. But, this band colour outside the lines. I have wished for a new TVM-album for a long time. Waiting for an album often creates an expectation gap, which is hard to close. With all respect, it's difficult for a band to age with dignity and vitality. A great album could be written and recorded in the spur of the moment. A great album could also be recorded, and then revised and refined over and over again. One must bear in mind that this comes at a risk. You can get lost in the process, in all revisions and refinement, losing sight and control over your initial idea and aim. This album, "Backwoods of My Mind", has taken time. From the product declaration in the press kit: "The album's eight shadowy, unsettling tracks take the listener down haunted paths that meander off the main roads to the eerie places where boundaries between the real and the imaginal disappear. Songs of heartbreak and longing, lost innocence and betrayal, guilt and forgiveness are punctuated with atmospheric arrangements, soaring harmonies, and sweeping violin solos. The tracks flow like sequences from an apocalyptic fever dream; but when the fever breaks and the songs end, we’re left with a sense of hope and redemption. 

The album begins with the title song "Backwoods of My Mind". A rabbit is caught, skinned, prepared and eaten. "She took those rabbit bones and made herself an altar there / She took those bones and a put a lock of her own hair / She prayed in front of it for all the things she'd ever lost / She threw herself across, across, across that cross". The rabbit continue to play a role in the song, despite its demise. Dream or nightmare? Pure hallucinations? Subconscious memories? Symbolism? Anyway, true gothic horror. The second song is "Singing in the Dark". The introduction goes in medieval style. The song has everything you can ask for: Lynne Adele's beautiful vocals and guitar strumming, Stephen Canner playing the lead part on the bouzouki and Stefan Keydel's violin harmonies. Unarguable, one of the best songs on the album. The arrangement and instrumentation are impeccable. Adding to this, backing vocals which really frame the song. Framing is important in art since it enhances the artwork. This also goes for music. The third song is "Such a Thing as Tupelo". Apparently, Jesus didn't come from below. Allegedly, he came from Tupelo. "You learned it wrong from women and from bitter dying men / You just followed on like others do / Til one day you just realized that you own this whole big world / The whole damn thing is only up to you / Someone told me Jesus came from Tupelo". This song relies heavily on the vocals. Moreover, the song really grows on you. The fourth song is "Crown of Wire". The song begins instrumentally with distant banjo picking, glockenspiel and melodic strains. "Holes in both my hands / the blood cries out / a book of stone / a cross of clay / a crown of wire / and then I'm gone".  

The fifth song is "Battleground". This song isn't bad, just not as good as the other songs on the album. The sixth song "I Sing to You" is a heartfelt love song. Executive summary: I'm here, you're not here. Not the darkest of gothic country, but it has a dark streak and a bittersweet melancholia that runs throughout the song. The seventh song, "Guntown Mountain" is one of the absolute highlights on the album. The chorus (repeated three times) "Now as I sit here upon Guntown Mountain / I watch the cars as the roll towards Tennessee / I sit here thinking on the secrets of these mountains / [She/They/I] won't come down from Guntown Mountain". Excellent songwriting, perfectly executed. Obscurity isn't the opposite of quality. For that matter, I don't think that Swarme of Beese are doomed to obscurity. There ought to be a certain demand for root-based music in a developed and civilized society. Authentic music is very hard to find these days. The copiers, fakers, imitators, impersonaters and imposters tagged gothic country, gothic americana, dark americana and southern gothic are everywhere. The eight and last song is "Nothing But Her Name". I like this song. The song structure is quite quirky with emphasis on the last word in every sentence. Somehow it got stuck on my cerebral cortex. The closing song is the most difficult to place. It concludes the album and, when it's done meticulously, wraps it all up. This was a brief of overview. I leave something to you to explore on your own.            

And finally, the overall assessment. Needless to say, my expectations were high. Let me start by saying that the new album isn't what I expected. It exceeds my expectations. In fact, this album could very well be the album of the year. And finally, an album that lives up to its product declaration. All packaged in a Steely Dan-like production. My only complaint is the short total running time, 38 minutes. I blame the enthusiasm for vinyl. Not only do vinyl limit the total running time, the songs must also fit on two sides. "Backwoods of My Mind" is available in the format of your choice. You can listen to it and buy it at Bandcamp, just click here (opens in a new window).  

Every once in a while an album emerges that blows your mind. "Hilarious Death Blues" (HDB) by Antic Clay is one such album. It's actually a debut double album. "A slow dark ride across the scorched hide of America. Think Johnny Cash riding a skeletal mule to Hell. Not without moments of beauty and hope, however". HDB is placed as number 1 on this list (opens in a new window). When I created the list, I couldn't possibly imagine there would be a follow-up album. In late 2017, a new Antic Clay-album called "Broom of Fire" was announced, to be released in 2018. It was originally scheduled in 2017 as a 10 year anniversary of the release of HDB. Antic Clay reassured that "fans of HDB will not be disappointed". This unexpected news created a buzz in the small dark (or gothic) americana community. Antic Clay added "What I am seriously contemplating is to launch a Kickstarter campaign. I’ve never done it, but I’ve watched and closely monitored such campaigns by other musician friends, who use social media to galvanize their fan base. I’ve already had several people encourage me to do this, with pledges of financial contribution in advance. This is heartening to be sure. Really it’s just a matter of me deciding to do it – and then doing it." This was five years ago. Setting up a Kickstarter campaign takes about five minutes. Is it happening at all? In December 2020 two songs were released on Bandcamp, "Center of the Night" and "Brother Wolf Sister Moon" (a cover). Antic Clay wrote: "Our goal is to press Brother Wolf Sister Moon and Center of the Night as a 12" vinyl single, and raise funds to create Broom of Fire in its entirety. We are entirely new to crowdfunding, so please stay tuned as we put all the necessary pieces in place." This was almost one and a half year ago. In March 2022 Antic Clay wrote "When Broom of Fire is completed this year, this song will be included". The song was "Elijah" (available on Youtube). Will the necessary pieces fall in place? "Broom of Fire" has turned into a potential 15 year anniversary. If the pieces fall in place, it will be interesting to see if Antic Clay still got the powers in him. However, I don't sense any HDB-vibe in the three above-mentioned songs. Why not release a lavish and limited 15-year anniversary album of HDB repackaged with thick booklet with trivia, lyrics and photos, re-mastered songs, alternate takes and unreleased songs instead?  

 

A heathen hof was a temple building of Germanic religion. The term hof is taken from Old Norse. "Heathen Hof" is also the title of Sons of Perdition's seventh album, which was released today. The release date is no coincidence. It's Beltane. The new album is also the second album by Sons of Perdition as an expanded band (or third album if you count "Fossils", the 2015 collaborative split with Jaran Hereid). The creative force and bandleader Zebulon Whatley wrote: "Heathen Hof is a small songbook of weird folk horror, largely written on detuned or entirely improvised instruments to capture the spirit of naive spiritual fervor that springs forth in isolation. It’s an album that draws heavily on Zebulon Whatley’s interest in British mythology as much as his upbringing in rural Texas and subsequent transplantation to Scotland. The album follows up on Sons of Perdition’s 2016 cosmic horror-themed album, Gathered Blood, pushing past the inherently horrific themes brought up in that album to further explore our relationship with the infinite." Six years is a long time in the gothic country genre. Lacy Rose (harmonium and piano) and Alex Hardie (drums) has left the band. The current lineup consists of Zebulon Whatley (words and sounds), Simon Broke (double bass) and Eli Rose (sounds and words). Sons of Perdition is, among other things, known for their spectacular album covers. The "Heathen Hof" cover is no exception. The album art is a photo taken by Irish photographer James Doherty. The logo is created by artist Gabbie Vasquez. "Heathen Hof" is only available digitally. You can listen to it and buy it at Bandcamp, just click here (opens in a new window).

The new album begins quite unsettling with "The Summoning". A cacophony of primordial chants, rhythms and sounds. No one can accuse Sons of Perdition of trying to please the crowds. Not with this song, anyway. It's hard to digest even for a person like myself. The songs ends with "We summon thee to foul the earth / And render flesh from bone". The second song "The Rapturous Call Of The Transmundane" is far more accessible. The song unfolds steadfast and slowly with beautiful vocals. Transmundane means reaching beyond or existing outside the physical or visible world. The song really invokes a feeling of otherworldliness. The third song, "O Lay Me Not In The Consecrated Ground", stand out. It has all the desirable Sons of Perdition attributes and is, without any doubt, one of the best songs on the album. The last verse isn't sung, it's more of spoken word. "O lay me not in the consecrated ground / Near that foul church that festers on the hill / Tear it down and use the stones for weight / To hold my soul against hers through winter’s chill". Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away. There is nothing to take away here. Of course, there's nothing to add or alter either. The fourth song is "Burning Boat". The song title seems to be a reference to Viking funerals. However, most funerals didn't involve a boat set ablaze and launched at sea, instead they usually involved boat shaped burial plots marked by stones. Anyway, not a bad song but not one of the highlights. It contains quite macabre lyrics. "You scrape and tan my leather skin / You fly it in the wilting wind / You toss my body in a hole / You hang my carcass from a pole". The fifth song, “Cold Blood Congealing in a Dead Sparrow's Heart" is instrumental. The arrangement and instrumentation are perfectly executed. 

The sixth song, "Calling the Bees" is a trifle. The seventh song "In the Garden" is slow, dark and epic. It has every attribute you can ask for: slow pace, extreme darkness and well-written lyrics. "Clay turns to clay in the mouth of a skull / In a blanched jawbone / On clavicles like native flutes". The eight song, "Hallowed Blood From Hollow Beasts" also fit the bill with its dark streak. The ninth song is "The Flagellant". The song title refers to practitioners of a form of mortification of the flesh by whipping their skin with various instruments of penance, like leather whips with knots or metal pieces. Flagellants are expected to follow a number of very strict rules. They beat themselves, both in the privacy of their dwellings and in public processions, in order to repent of sins and share in the Passion of Jesus. It's still practised, but in a milder form than in medieval times. This is a song with dark distinct vocals and cracking whips. The lyrics are pretty grim. "Forsake not my vacant corpse / Which slumbers in the deep / And sing thee sweetly to my sleep / Visit me with offerings / And prayers that I may keep / Or at countless bedsides shall you weep". As always, the closing song of an album concludes what the artists want to say. The closing song should have a close connection to the themes and a scent of the atmosphere of the album. The tenth song is "Götterdämmerung" (German for Ragnarök, the submersion of the world in water). It's 13 minutes and 22 seconds long and instrumental. The song begins beautiful with a whining bullroarer, an ancient ritual musical instrument and a device historically used for communicating over great distances. The musical theme in the beginning is superb with strings, acoustic guitar and vinyl crackling in the background. The song then transcends into a different theme with chants, growl and strokes (in lack of a better term, gothic primordial). The initial theme returns in the last two and a half minutes. Needless to say, the arrangement and instrumentation are impeccable. The last tone fades away and it's over.            

And finally, the overall assessment. This isn't an album you listen to while casually doing the dishes. It will require some effort on your part. If you are prepared to listen concentrated and focused, then you're in for a listening experience. However, I can live without the primordial influences in the music. Sons of Perdition are pursuing on their path of dreamy, evocative and experimental music. Still, it's downright depressive music. Zebulon Whatley also master the difficult art of placing songs in the right order on an album. This is a great album by any standards.   
      

False advertising is defined as the act of publishing, transmitting, or otherwise publicly circulating an advertisement containing a false, misleading, or deceptive statement, made intentionally or recklessly to promote the sale of property, goods, or services to the public. A false advertisement can further be classified as deceptive if the advertiser deliberately misleads the consumer, as opposed to making an unintentional mistake. Clearly, there's a court case pending for some bands and artists. I want to believe that there's a future for the genre, but the empirical support for this is weak. Maybe, I have a defeatist attitude. Now and then sensible and discerning people have to remind me that there are others out there. However, it's a lot of work to separate the wheat from the chaff. Under the Christmas holiday I decided to work as a threshing machine. I used the snowball sampling technique, which is a nonprobability sampling technique where existing study subjects recruit future subjects from among their acquaintances (the sample is expected to grow like a rolling snowball). I went from one disappointment to another. No snowball emerged. On the contrary. I literally waded in a cesspool of copiers, fakers, imitators, impersonaters and imposters tagged gothic country, gothic americana, dark americana and southern gothic. I know that I can be conservative, strict and judging. But, I have committed myself "to explore and promote gothic country, southern gothic, gothic americana, american gothic and dark americana and ...whatever". No more, no less. The course has been set and there's no reason to deviate from the path. I haven't given up. I will try to find new bands and artists. However, the effort is considerable and the efficiency questionable. Is the mislabeling a honest mistake or a deliberately misleading of the consumer? False advertising is what it is. Maybe a cease and desist order is what it takes. A cease and desist letter is a document sent to an individual or business to stop allegedly illegal activity. The letter may warn that, if the recipient does not discontinue specified conduct, or take certain actions, by deadlines set in the letter, that party, i.e. the letter's recipient, may be sued. In flagrant cases, a letter might put an end to it. Or else, a court of law will decide. The verdict will be guilty on all charges. The evidence is quite overwhelming.