MUCHAS GRACIAS, HERMANOS/AS!

Dead, from Melbourne. Picture by Tommy Martino.

Man, excellent Total Fest. All kinds of stuff we can't get out of our heads. Like how Thrones doesn't need a bass to make the wildest music out there. Or how much we like Dead, and Brain Tumors. And Mr. Dad. And Benjamin Von Wildenhaus. And Seawhores. It's a little ridiculous to try to sum up in a single place, frankly. We owe a huge debt of gratitude to the bands that played and lent gear to one another (especially Brothers of the Sonic Cloth and Dog Shredder), the folks that volunteered, the businesses that sponsored us, and you the folks who came and raged.

Hey, let's keep the momentum going! Lots of us put on shows across the other 362 days of the year, and we have some incredible ones coming up this fall in Missoula. Here are some spots to learn about them:
Minor Bird Records Blog (TF Organizer Marty's blog)
Missoula Punk News (TF Organizer Kate's blog)
I think those two are some of the best resources for DIY happenings in Missoula, MT. Weird Missoula is Tom Shahs website, and it's great as well. 

Some other endeavors we TF organizers do are listed here:
Shahs (Colin's band with Tom H.)
Big Sky Documentary Film Festival (Travis's awesome film fest.)
Wantage (Josh V's label/distro)
Hans Bagworks (Paul's bikepacking bag business)
ART, BLOG, INK. (TF O

Michael Workman, who's (TF co-Boss) Kari's brother, shot and edited a couple of awesome Total Fest XII videos:
Red Fang at Total Fest XII
Seawhores at Total Fest XII

We absolutely love it when folks share photos and videos with us. Feel free to do that via our Facebook page, or through this email. See you before Aug. 2014, we hope!

LEE HARVEY HAS NOTHING ON MISSOULA'S SHAHS

Shahs. We call them ours. True Shahs is a Minneapolis transplant, but in a town as transient as Missoula, when we see the first tendrils and nodes begin go form, we lay claim. Formed in 2005 as a solo project by Tom Helgerson, Shahs has morphed into an ensemble of insanely talented musicians. Currently, Shahs is Tom, Colin Johnson, Nick Ryan, and Javier Ryan.

It's hard for me to encapsulate Shahs in a simple turn of phrase. A few quick hits on the interwebs reveal wonderful words like "tropicalia," but, as with all things, it's a nice attempt but falls short. For me, Shahs is like peering behind the curtain and witnessing a million architects assemble something out of the primordial mass. Shahs mines it, breaks it down, processes it, and erects it.

Sort of like the doozers in Fraggle Rock. Perpetually building and rebuilding, looping and connecting a variety of a machine and vocal beats, stabilized with layers of reverb, delay and distortion. Mix in the smoothness of Johnson and the Ryans (no relation) and things get silky real quick.

Are we the Fraggles? Probably not, and I'd rather leave the metaphor right at the Doozers.

It's been awesome to witness Shahs reconfigure its line-up since Tom moved to Missoula a few years ago (late 2009? early 2010?). There's an immediacy to the music, something that grabs you, but also pleasingly leads you through new territory. It's complex and layered, teetering on the brink of abstraction. All in all, Shahs live sets are the rare instance when you witness compositions. It's a strange time-lapse of the life of the cosmos (or something) ... The music expands, contracts, deconstructs itself, reconfigures itself, lassos nuances from the margins, inverts time ... you know, it's breezy cubism, an existential breakfast with an irresistible beat. Catch them on Friday at Freecycles.

TOWERS PROVIDE FULL-TILT SONIC THUNDER

There’s something thoroughly unique and liberating about music that’s down-tuned, too loud and features essentially a single sort of plodding riff, for as long as you want. If you’ve ever made the journey of Sleep’s “Dopesmoker” or Eyehategod’s “Dopesick” records on headphones, or a pretty solid set of stereo speakers, you know what I’m talking about. I picked those not because the word "dope" is in both titles (it’s a different kind of dope that each is talking about), but because of the sheer sonic heft of each.

There’s a commonly heard couple of critiques leveled against loud raunchy music by squares and newcomers to the stuff: 1) “I can’t hear what they’re saying” and 2) “it’s awfully repetitive.” These are interesting critiques examined individually because they sort of start with the premise that lyrics must be understandable (typically lyrics can be read when they’re not readily discernible) and the more complex a music, the better. When you really think about both those things, they’re a little counter intuitive. 

Sometimes, delivery of a weird set of god-knows-what-the-fuck-this-is-about-anyway lyrics is what it’s all about. And sure, that delivery makes understanding the whole thing a little harder, but who said life was easy? Especially with music that is about addiction, like Dopesick is. The words sound like they’re causing somebody pain, or are just belted in such a forceful way that they could be reading the Book Of Mormon and it wouldn’t matter. Then, on to this “gosh, it’s awfully repetitive” critique: Sure it is. But sometimes when you’ve got a good riff, what you want to do is simply repeat it for 30 minutes, and let it take the listener somewhere unique. The band Om with 2/3 of  the Sleep personnel have taken that idea to perhaps it’s full zenith, where it's either completely sublime listening or it’s an exercise in patience for the unprepared. 

I tend to think this is a world where technical virtuosity and guitar music can co-exist really well, but so often in the case of music attempting to be heavy, it’s a net loss when it’s too complex. Certainly dudes like Mick Barr and Colin Marston are some good exceptions to that rule. To me at least, heavy music is all about the feeling. The viscera-pummel, the Crover drums, the feedback, the great tones, and all of that. That’s what it’s about. And seeing it live is the best entre, as with most things rock and roll. 

With that intro, we offer up the band Towers from Portland, Oregon. Land of the tall cedars, deep canyons, high deserts and err, all that. Towers are touring with Dead, are stalwart riffers, and they’ve got a unique heavy vibe we’re stoked to see/hear and feel what they do!

DEAD ... no seriously .... DEAD!!!!!!!

We're beyond excited, stoked, pants-pissing happy to announce that DEAD,those lovable, thunderous, dudes from down-under, will once again grace our landlocked festival this August. It's been an arduous process for Jem and Jace to secure the funds, plan out a tour, and to negotiate all of the other logistical nightmares it takes to get over here from Australia. It almost didn't happen. Hopes were tied to a grant that never materialized, but about a month ago Jem emailed to say that they bit the bullet and are coming with or without the grant. 

Let that sink in.

... 

Ok

...

My head was close to exploding. This year's line-up is already super stacked, but the addition of DEAD to this year's schedule may be way too much for one human being to handle.

Who is DEAD? They're long time bros. Not enough? Check out WeEmptyRooms. Wantage released their debut album, Thundaaaaah. Jem plays drums in Fire Witch. Both Jem and Jace play in Fangs Of ... . Still not enough?

Did you listen to the records? 

I'll wait.

Seriously awesome stuff.

Where's your head?

Jem and Jace lay down the heavy. Straight and simple. Melvins vibe? check. KARP / Big Business / Melvins type of lyrical craziness? check. Crazy ass riffs and vocals that somehow devolve into something that reminds me of how I would love Rush to sound? check. (I could be wrong on that one. I'm not the world's biggest Rush proponent, but around the 5 minute mark of "Prick Rodeo" I tell myself that's what people find good in  Rush). Dudes who never look like it's a chore to play? check. Awesome? check. Just hit you in the gut, head, and stomped on your ankles? check. Apologized and bought you a beer? .... well, probably not.Still smile? check. Possibility of Jace playing bass with his bare ass? check!

I think that's it. DEAD is the perfect combination of bare bone heavy, labyrinthine lyrics, straight-up balls-to-wall performance, technical changes and genre-bending force, and playful but in your face DIY aesthetic that puts them in an entirely different category than other bands.

Recently, they've released Idiots, which is one of the best records that I've heard since the last DEAD record. These dudes are legit (and some of the sweetest dudes on the planet). They've sketched together an awesome tour  with Towers and a few other bands in order to play Total Fest and launch their U.S. release of Idiots on Eolian Empire on August 13 (not to mention that they'll be recording some new tracks with  Toshi Kasai while they're in LA). If you're anywhere near where they are playing, catch them as often as you can. They design and print their own merch so you're a lucky devil if you score one of their hoodies (serious cred). Jace is designing the Total Fest shirts this year so you can hang your hat on that, but don't sleep on this stuff, total people. I seriously can't tell you how lucky we are to see these dudes again.

Here's a tease.

OLL BREDS: BRED FOR OLL YOUR TOTAL NEEDZ.

Do you know about Buzludza in Bulgaria? It's a worth looking up thing, if you're at all into Hothian

architecture, abandoned soviet era stuff, and massive public works projects that seem to serve exactly no current purpose. Also, it's kind of nice to say the word "Buzludza."

Missoula's Oll Breds are band that came onto my radar only pretty recently when their kind of outsider pop/garage two-piece whatever rock and roll just started to take over my mind. I saw them first only in the late spring of this year, and I think they'd been playing for at least the previous year. Something about the sound of "bread" in a band name really can apparently hit a nerve with me. Can't help but think of the multi-platinum selling, dollar bin cluttering 70s soft (not-quite) rock dentist office hitmakers in the band Bread. You know how there are certain smells you associate with things and they're totally powerful? Like, you associate the smell of weakly made Maxwell House with uh, having to go to church maybe. Well, seeing  a Best of Bread LP at a thrift store is one of those things that happens at least twice a year, and it always has that subconscious-triggering bummer effect on me. I know it's not really logical, but who said being a music fan had anything to do with logic? And, the fact that I associate Bread with the nitrusy smell of dentist's offices, and by default don't like any music with the sound of "bread" anywhere near it isn't wholly illogical. So what's actually the deal with these Oll Breds?

I don't actually know a ton of the back story, man, but I saw them play a riveting kind-of-Modern-Loversy with kind of a little-bit-Richard-Helly-vocals set that stuck with me hard a couple months ago. Nice simple chord progressions, good tones and  that's about all I need to be stoked about a band, I guess. This (below) live recording of Leave Across America (song starts after about a minute) kind of captures it best, I think. And it has some nice Osprey baseball footage. Their internet presence (and that of their members) consists of about six kind of random, impenetrable things, which tells me they don't give a damn about making music for anybody but themselves, which is nice.

NORSKA: THE SLUDGE IS STRONG WITH THIS ONE

faces you can trust!

Long time supporter, awesomely rad person, and Total friend, Carly Henry, has been praising Norska for a few years now, and the stars finally aligned for this year's Total Fest.

The easy context here is to say Aaron Rieseberg (bassist of Yob) plays bass for Norska as well. It's doom sludge. Got it? Ok.

Norska isn't a simple offshoot of Yob, though. They'll both grab you by the throat, but Norska is a little more menacing, a little more monstrous in its execution. Norska's debut LP was released on Brutal Panda last September and its been garnering a solid amount of admiration. Joined by Jim Lowder, Dustin Rieseberg, and Jason Oswald, their songs are lumbering and ambitious, bursting with some tantalizing riffs but never feeling overworked or packed with unnecessary filler. A lot is packed in to each song like they're slogging through the entire genre with a razor sharp kitchen knife. It's less of a smörgåsbord of sludge metal elements than it is a well plotted pairing of metal infused power with a primal resonance. It's a strange, yet welcome and fresh decomposition of sound. As a whole, the pacing of the record is stellar, never languishing and ever frothing into an all out assault. Throw in the 13 minute slug fest "They Mostly Come at Night" and you have the makings of one killer record. The guttural and gruff vocals are as relentless as the music, growling and grinding their way deep into your gut (I should have made that an all "g" sentence). 

It's a feast for the senses. Bring your fucking bib!

OWN YOUR FLESH! MISSOULA'S GROOVE HAPPY SKIN FLOWERS

It's seems like only yesterday that I had a handful of conversations in the bathroom and in front of the VFW with the dudes who would eventually morph into the local, supergroup, behemoth known as Skin Flowers. I'd just stare at Colin, Turley, Tom, John (and eventually) Nick and think "Say what? What the hell is that going to look like?"

I was excited. It's a hefty group of musicians (not to mention perfectionists), and I couldn't wait to hear what they came up with. I'm still not quite sure what I heard. Self described as "tender ballads about passive aggressive murder, jaunty calypso numbers about deep self loathing, all this and more" with a sound ranging somewhere between Steely Dan, The Velvet Underground, and Royal Trux is somewhat adequate, but it certainly misses some of the intricate awesomeness of this band. Yeah, there's this crazy classic rock thing going on, but it's like Bizarro world classic rock. It's at times more conceptual but with an intimacy that makes your knees swoon. The melodies are kite like, softly flowing in breezy grooves and tethered to some excellent lyrics. Skin Flowers not only finds a way to mix in a variety of influences but also keeps things smart and sultry. A fine wine with no guilt. A full length velvet robe stained with a lifetime of heartache.

Supergroup is too lame of a description. What's it mean, anyway? The band members have enough to hang their collective hats on (Shahs, Vampire Hands, Oblio Joes, Secret Powers, Hellgate Stranglers, Everyday Sinners, etc.), but it's not like some Constructicon amalgamation that rests on the whims and fancies of its component egos. Colin and Nick are some deftly clever songwriters and guitarists; John is a powerhouse on bass; and, the percussion duo of Turley and Tom pump out some dreamy, dexterous beats. The stuff works. It's not your usual cup of Total Fest tea, but it does mine our collective history for the forgotten root and tendrils that continue to nourish our insatiable thirst.

Here's a Skin Flowers approved jam.  

VILE BLUE (FUCKING) SHADES

Writing about the Vile Blue Shades is as nearly a fruitless endeavor as you're really probably ever likely to get yourself into. Here's why: You either come across like an absolute dipshit in trying to explain their uh, oeuvre or you risk overstating what makes them so damn unique and awesome and kind of spoil the fact that they're not terribly well known outside of Salt Lake and Missoula. That's the dilemma I'm staring down, okay.

So now that you know that, here goes: Back in 2007 Total Fest was a mere toddler. Not quite in kindy-garten yet. Wet behind the ears and all that. Missoula lacked spots to hold big underground deals with lots of weirdos. Jay's had closed. We'd pissed off the neighbors and had the cops show up at the Legion. Weren't a great fit with the Other Side...

So, we were in desperate need of a location that wouldn't come with all the goddamn hassle. And we found it in the Missoula County Fairgrounds, smack to the east of Malfunction Junction. The Llama Barn, to be exact. We didn't get hassled by neighbors that year, but the price of renting the place was too high, and we had to carry our own event insurance, so when it came to dividing what we'd earned from passes bands should've gotten paid a lot more than we ended up paying 'em. Coulda-woulda-shoulda in retrospect, lots of things to have done differently, but those are the main facts. That we're still friends with most of the people that played that year I think is a testament to what makes Total Fest a unique deal. We've come a long way since then. Have a better home in downtown Missoula, and have grown steadily since that year.

Ryan Jensen, picture by Maddie Magdalene.

Anyhow, that year, while it came with its challenges, Total Fest V was the Missoula debut of Vile Blue Shades and it would mark a pretty regular, probably semi-annual trek that the roughly 12 or 13 members of the band would make up to Missoula to blow our minds with their enveloping, rhythmic sex-boogie whateveritis. That pretty regular trek up to Missoula ended just about a full five years ago, at some point in 2008 with one of the few out of town shows they played behind the John Thursday California Adventure LP that Wantage put out.

Vile Blue Shades at Total Fest V.

That they'd lasted that long always kind of baffles me. The sheer logistical challenges of getting together the 12 people (several drummers, bassist, guitarists, singer, dancer) that make up the band always seemed to be looming as the most likely reason they'd end. Luckily, with members like Eli from the Wolfs and the 8ctopus record label, Terence from Red Bennies and Shane, the band seemed actually to function pretty well for a decent chunk of time. They recorded an amazing piece of work in their John Thursday LP and a couple of other good full-lengths and singles, put on some incredible shows and blew all kinds of minds in the process. The lyrics are foul,they've got a dancer named Meg who's typically underdressed. Ryan's a wild man. It's just a whole spectacle of a deal, and I think better to kind of leave it with this. When we saw they were doing a reunion show this fall at the Urban Lounge in Salt Lake, we decided we'd give Eli a call and try to convince them to com up to Missoula to hang for Total Fest. Lo and behold, voila, etc.: Vile Blue (fucking) Shades. Big ol' thanks to Zombie Tools for some extra-special sponsorship on this one.

THE CALM IN A SEA OF BEARDS: HELMS ALEE

Always a Missoula favorite, Ben, Dana and Hoz of Helms Alee will return to perform at Total Fest XII this August. A unique, triumphant beast of a band, the trio are capable of bringing both bludgeoning and surprisingly calming sounds to their dynamic music. Seeping through the thick, syrupy and heavy bits are whole lot of beautiful pieces of melody, both musically and vocally, which sets them apart from many bands making heavy music today.

Following up their 2011 album Weatherhead, Helms Alee are currently at work on their third full length Sleepwalking Sailors which they successfully crowd-funded earlier this year (see the amazing video below). If all goes well we'll get to hear some of the new tracks from this forthcoming album in August. In the meantime, you can stream tracks from previous releases on their Bandcamp page.

WATCH THE WORLD BURN WITH MEDIA BLITZ

Set to play Total Fest XII, Orange County, California's Media Blitz deliver a blast of raging, thrashy punk and hardcore, with no song over 2 minutes and definitely no shortage of riffs or ripping solos. This young group is fronted by one hell of a frontman, whose snotty, angry delivery is reminiscent of Calfornia punk bands from yester year. And I'd like to believe that perhaps the band is named after the Germs song of the same name. Darby would be proud.

Their recent full length Burn the World is a great introduction to the band's pissed off, explosive hardcore. The LP can be streamed in full on their Bandcamp page.

PHANTOM OF THE FESTIVAL

It takes something very special to stop a room full of sweaty weirdos dead in their tracks. Scott Seckington's Sedan possesses the uncanny ability to compose hypnotic, robust, heavy, piano arrangements that sit somewhere between horror film and chamber music.

It's hard to describe. 

The chord choices are subtle and unsettling, but it's also oddly affirming. Like a lot of things, you get out of it what you bring to it, and there's definitely some ambient, negative poetics going on in here, but I don't think you can simply classify it as something ominous or as some sad, spiral into darkness. Maybe limbo. Maybe purgatory. But Scott's compositions never feel like he's resigned himself to the descent. There's some awesome fight going on in here, some raw energy that's herded and corralled, molded into a series of tiny explosions that, ultimately, burn away that despondent nightmare of existence. It's the type of music I hear when I read Melville or Kafka or Beckett. Sure there's the ubiquitous existential crisis swirling through it, but it never succumbs to its own bleakness. 

There's joy in nothingness -- an unbridled curiosity and imaginative landscape continually reinventing itself.

Dance on the dead man's ashes and all that. 

Sit back to this one

WE HAVE (ATLANTA) HAWKS.

I love that there's a great noise rock band from Atlanta, Georgia called Hawks. Mostly because I expect Dominique "Nique" Wilkins to be bustin' glass backboards to these tunes, I guess. Or, you know, Spud Webb to be making a beautiful assist as these ugly-ass, self described "pigfuck" (Cosloy's word for Big Black, I think) jams roll out.

Hawks newest Kyle Spence- (Harvey Milk) recorded self-titled 7" comes as close to a middle-1990s a vibe as you're likely to find this side of E. Lansing, Champagne-Urbana, the Trance Syndicate Label or where else... Gabe's Oasis on a Wednesday. We know about them because the excellent Learning Curve (Blind Shake, Seawhores, Gay Witch Abortion, etc. etc.) put out an LP and recommends 'em heavily. Hell, fact is if Nelson or who else, Hanson had ever
opened for Scratch Acid, we'd probably pay a little more attention to figuring their deal out.

But what's their deal, anyway? What's the deal with Hawks? Like the band says on their webpage, it's easy to figure out the influences, just listen for about what, 25 seconds. We hear stuff like Steel Pole Bathtub, and the earlier Mark Shippy stuff. We're convinced, man.

PARTICLE PIONEERS: MISSOULA'S MODALITY MELDS THEORY and PRACTICE

Photo by Michells Gustafson

I was slow to climb on the Modality train. It wasn't anything they were or were not doing, it just took me a bit to work my way into it. Live, Modality has always been a pleasure, and as the band has evolved from a sleepy duo into a ensemble of keyboards, guitar, drums, violin and bass, they've blossomed into one of the most unique bands in Missoula. For me, it just didn't translate into their recordings. This happens a lot to bands of any stripe, but it was particularly disheartening for me when it came to Modality.

Live, they weave together improvised and structured sets. Sounds and songs seamlessly meld into each other, washing over you in a steady warmth. It's like a perfectly heated bath. Modality usurps the notion of jam band by accompanying nodes of psychedelia with aggressive guitars and drums. They've coupled the aesthetic of experimentation with a technically sound and complex soothing sense of exploration. Our friends over at WeirdMissoula are prone to saying "the philosophies behind a lot of the musics “hippies” hold dear and a lot of the musics noise-dudes and experimental musicians hold dear, well…they’re really the same," and they're spot on. (You may as well read the entire review -- it's really good and hits all the highlights). 

It's the technical aspect that, at times, hinders translating their live sets to the studio. Don't get me wrong, Particle City retains all the ambient groove of the live sets and highlights how good these dudes are as musicians. To my mind, however, they're limited by the format. I don't know. I'm not trying to be negative here, but I always feel a little more hungry after listening to the record. They've pushed some envelopes in trying to capture their improvisational style by occupying a ballroom in Butte and recently releasing an impressive collection Notes From the SueTerrain.

Serious grooves going on here.

In a festival that's notorious for its hard and heavy line-ups, it's nice to catch a warm ray here and there. Modality provides a series of cleansing moments that massage you in and out of calmness. It's blissful and still edgy enough to keep you on your toes. Something like the end scene of Melancholia or what it feels like to succumb to an avalanche. There's that moment right before you drown that your body forces you to take a breath. You know it's not air coming in, but you're okay with that. Consciousness isn't always a good thing.

THE BRILLIANCE OF BRUTALITY: SWAMP WOLF

We're stoked to announce that Arizona's Swamp Wolf will be returning to Missoula for Total Fest this August. These five dudes from Flagstaff (Dirty Steve, Daniel, Kevin, Nate and Hobbit) showed up in Missoula last August on the second night of Total Fest XI and offered to pinch hit when a scheduled band failed to show. To be honest, I wasn't sure what to expect from them initially, but my expectations were blown out the water when they took the stage. No less than two songs into their epic and totally relentless set, I'm pretty certain they proved themselves to be a fan favorite of many Total Fest XI attendees in the Badlander that Friday night.

These guys embody some of my favorite elements from 90s metallic hardcore (camo shorts and XL shirts not included), with blackened bits of thrash, sludge and blazing, squealing guitar brutality. Since they played here last August, they've issued their full length Brilliance of a Feral Mind on vinyl, which you can check out on their bandcamp page.
 

TOTAL MR. DAD FEST

Mr. Dad, Minot, ND.

Minot, North Dakota’s one of those area codes (58701-58703) that doesn’t get a lot of bandwidth if you’re trying to read up about punk music scenes around the country. Weirdly, like Billings, MT whose railroad-given nickname is “the Magic City”, Minot 350 miles east is also “the Magic City.” Seems like even though we’ve got the big ol’ internet, we’ve got fewer and fewer fanzines and things like that, or maybe more accurately the internet’s numbed us a bit to seeking them out. It’s easy to read about bands from towns of at least half a million people, and just kind of presume that the rest of the States is a wasteland for DIY/independent culture. You kind of have to go looking and dig around, which is good because folks who like punk rock normally are more inquisitive and unwilling to chow down on what Pitchfork’s told them to consume. At least I hope so. Lots of digression around here, man. The point is, we semi-but-not-really-rural folks need to stick together.

Why Not, Minot? Freezin's the Reason.

That Minot is one of the US’s coolest DIY spots is pretty excellent news for a relatively isolated Air Force-college-and-increasingly-oil-boom-town-with-a-flooding-problem-and-some-of-ND’s-hilliest-terrain. It’s a place with a vibe that reminds me of Missoula in the '90s, with a kind of Great Falls, MT vibe (Air Force, Hutterites, feed stores, big arterial) thrown into the mix. Minot came onto my radar first through the Pangea House and the enthusiastic punk and house show scene that turned out groups like Father Son Holy Smokes, Japaniel Flatsen, and Chapstick and Why Not Fest, and I’m sure lots more. We've heard nothing but good vibes from Tyson Ballew and Joey Running Crane who have played Why Not Fests over the years. They were treated super well, people watched their sets, danced and it was as community a festival as you can get. Minot strikes me as a place whose not being on an interstate has actually really benefited the punk scene. Shows are events, they don’t happen as often as a place like Fargo, and people are more invested as a result. Shows happen at houses and museums and there’s a big rad festival in Why Not that kind of gives it all an focal point and opportunity for celebration.

And what an introduction that is for Mr. Dad, who describe themselves as “a buncha sucka fools and papas making spastic, shitty, north Dakotan, hardcore-ish rock and roll.” I love any band that refers to themselves as shitty. Nuff said, I say.

SOOIE: PRIZEHOG

Photo by Gabe Wheeler.

Remember when we asked you how you felt about Hawkwind? If you don't, that's cool too.

Well, it seems like the best answer to the question is California's Prizehog. The trio of Rion, Zakk, and Veronica collage together some seriously heavy, skull crushing, psych-doom-space sludge from an admixture of shuddering drums, down-tuned guitar, effect drenched vocals, and Rothko-textured synth.

It's a thick mess of sounds that lingers in the space between manic and groove, stretching every note beyond its capacity, milking the sound of all its essence and letting it slowly decay. Their songs effortlessly churn through bombastic thunder, spacey (sometimes poppy) drones and amazingly catchy hooks. One solid epic after another. Hypnotizing and chugging, tangled and dark, Prizehog offers some killer, weirded out dirge that rumbles as much as it glides through an ever sprawling landscape.

Caught you yet?

If you need more adjective laden peaks to climb, just follow the "Goods" link on their website. I hate making comparisons, but when you have mentions of Harvey Milk, Melvins, Butthole Surfers, the Fucking Champs, Wildildlife, True Widow, and Codeine, you're doing something better than "right." You're doing something gorgeously sublime.

I dig abstract and experimental, and dig it even more when it pushes up against expectations. Too often, abstract forgets what it's doing and devolves into self-masturbatory clutter. Not here. Prizehog pairs their non-conventional song-writing with some awesomely dark and moody melodies. They're a hardworking trio who have been crushing California's Bay Area (and elsewhere) for close to seven years. Their self-released EP "Alive and Well" (2008) is out of print, but your internet prowess should serve you well. Check out their first full length, "Thought Nest" (2011 Saint Rose Records), here and their most recent EP, "A Talking To" (2012 Gravity Records, here. Like they say, "We play lots. We have for years now." It's about damn time we invited them to play Total Fest.

MISS LANA REBEL AND KEVIN MAY MAYFIELD: TF-BOUND.

Lana Rebel's one of those few musicians I can think of whose music occupies a completely timeless and gut-level excellence that just kind of reaffirms why you go through the sloggier parts of life. And it's not the most upbeat and cheery stuff either, it's got its darkness and full spectrum of booze-drenched melancholia, joy, sadness and soforth. It just somehow, has that ability to contextualize the rough spots and find some beauty in all of it. Technically, Lana's and Kevin's music is probably closest to country. We refuse to use "A-word" around here. Sort of rhymes with Texarkana. You know. But stopping there is a little like saying "Black Sabbath played metal."  or "Tammy Wynette played country."  "Erkin Koray's a guitar player." Technically correct, but absolutely limiting language. Whatever.

Lana's last band band, before she relocated to Tucson's Saguaro-speckled hills and valley, was the Broken Promises. They put out an excellent record in 2010, I think. It's called "Mistakes We Can Live With"  and it's been on repeat around here since it came out. That one's approaching the couple hundred hours of play mark for our household. Before that, there was the Juanita Family and Friends, and the great set of west coast players who backed her on the All I Need LP. More recently, there's some traditional Mexican tunes, some children's music and talk of opening up a record shop in Tucson. She's been teamed up with guitar player/singer Kevin May Mayfield who might've been a Burrito Brother were it 30 years earlier. Kevin adds a partner and  player who brings even more depth to the tunes. We like it all. We're completely excited, proud, and yes, stoked to have Miss Lana Rebel and Kevin May Mayfield up here for TFXII. It's been too many years, five in fact, since a Total Fest's had the pleasure of a Miss Lana Rebel set.

BROTHERS OF THE SONIC CLOTH IS LIKE A FINE OIL ON THE HEAD

Remember Tad?

Yeah, that was a long ass time ago. Hurts to say that.

Tad Doyle's most recent project, Brothers of the Sonic Cloth , featuring bassist Peggy “Pegadeth” Doyle and Drummer Dave French (Brokaw) offers up a decidedly heavy beast of sludge. I remember the excited whispers that flew around when news broke that Tad had a new project in the works, and a few people were annoyingly vocal about how good the 2009 release Brothers of the Sonic Cloth/Mico de Noche split sounds. It is one hell of a record, but we all know those people who don't let up and become even more insistent when you tell them you listened to it and you like it.

As I gathered up links and such for Brothers of the Sonic Cloth, I was somewhat struck by the number of times people mused over their fondness of Tad only to say that BotSC sounded nothing like it. Well, they don't (I guess I'm doing that too). There's no mistaking Tad's vocals, but the music is so much heavier than anything I've heard Doyle do before. The twelve-plus-minute slog "Fires Burn Dim in the Shadows of the Mountain" is a doom, sludge filled delight, proving that heavy music can still impose its will on time and space. There's some sweet rhythms fluctuating throughout this with just the right mix of vocals and riffs. I've yet to see Brothers of the Sonic Cloth, but everything that I've heard offers some promisingly thick jams that speaks for itself. There's no exaggeration, no extraneous fill -- just pound the ground brutality churning over itself. Doyle and company craft swift, elegant, epic marathons of sonic thunder.

It's an awesome development in a continually evolving career. Once we have the schedule posted, you'll want to circle this one.

If you're in Seattle check out Sub Pop record label’s 25th Silver Jubilee. ex-Tad guitarist, Gary Thorstensen, will join BotSC to play a few song's from God's Balls, Salt Lick and 8-Way records as well as a few new gems from BotSC.

Sadly, former drummer Aaron Edge has been diagnosed with MS. Please consider donating to help Aaron and his wife meet some of their financial challenges associated with the disease. More info at www.taddoyle.com.

For your nostalgic pleasure:

GAY WITCH ABORTION: WHAT'S in a NAME? EVERYTHING.

I can't lie. The twelve year old in me loves Gay Witch Abortion. The name alone is enough to furrow eyebrows, curl lips, raise blood pressure, get you sent home from school or inspire a rogue group of grandparents to rip stickers off of every skateboard and electrical box across the country.

Yep. Making people uncomfortable is awesome.

It's not all surface antics for Jesse and Shawn. While the novelty of the name allows you to feel like you're getting away with something, the noise furnace they generate between the spastic drums, cheek-gnashing guitar and oddly rhythmic vocals pummel you to delirium. In a good way. There's plenty of fist pumping groove rock going on, but the hardcore influence and out-of-left-field changes keep you reeling. They're unbridled and wonderfully choreographed. Each album / recording points toward an evolution that may just signal the creation of a new dimension. I'm prone to exaggeration. I know this. In my opinion, Gay Witch Abortion is one of the top 5 bands out there. They're tireless in their execution, ruthless in their song writing, and merciless when it comes to your ear drums, headphones, or speakers. They were one of my tops at Total Fest last year, and the records that they've put out since then land squarely in my tops of the year. (I don't publish these lists, but I do talk about them).

Plus, they're totally cool dudes. Seriously chill, unassuming, and funny. It's hard to reconcile. In a flurry of sound, GWA punches you in the stomach and face, bites your ear, takes your beer money, and probably pants you in the process. Shawn and Jesse smile and say thanks. Some people may not be so happy with the increased vocals, but I dig it. It adds another layer to an already complex sound, pushing the hypnotic drones into more hyper explosions and chaos. Somehow it's more expansive and unbounded, but it never loses focus.

Tunes and such can be found at the bandcamp link above, as well as on Learning Curve & AmRep. Give the Held Hostage Rsd Compilation a listen while you're at it.

We're damn pleased to welcome them back for this year. Don't miss them!

HAVANIA WHAAL: FUN, SUN, and FUZZ

Three piece Portland darlings, Havania Whaal, up the ante by throwing a mandolin into their fuzzy pop. I tire of genre-classifications as quickly as anyone. It's a dangerously limiting business and semantic abridgments do nothing more than allow us to overuse hyphens. That said, Havania Whaal's self-described "twee-gaze" may be the most useful turn of phrase to characterize them. It's fresh, fun, loud, raw, primitive, bouncy, dreamy, rebellious, and carefree. At some point, the sun melted a mixtape of Hole, Sonic Youth and Beat Happening into a boisterous, wine-filled party.

It's deeply personal, but unlike a lot of the mainstream indie-pop, Havania Whaal doesn't appear comfortable to simply strum along. It's steeped in a DIY aesthetic that challenges as much as it celebrates. They're not afraid to be dirty and musty. There's a grassroot feel to their vibe -- similar to a suitcase full of unmarked tapes and handwritten labels. Familiar, but it requires you to linger a little bit and offers a few surprises as you go. Havania Whaal combines some of those traditional pop elements with the joy of making music. They're a great reminder of what it takes to be a band these days. Creative impulses and good friends always make for a better band than a vapid, yet well maintained web presence.