Sometimes you want to fall into the depths of a great song or album, stretching your senses around and in between the notes, feeling the rhythm shifts and tempo changes. Sometimes you want to dig into the marrow of lyrics, searching for analogues to your life and experiences. Sometimes, though, you just want some DUMB FUN. That's this playlist: dumb, mindless fun for my soul.

Time has since clouded just how I discovered Naxatras, the Greek psychedelic rock outfit. I think it was via Bandcamp, possibly by following the breadcrumb trail of "You Might Also Like..." albums at the bottom of the page of...some album. I remember I featured the band's fourth full length, simply titled IV, in my Best of 2022 Stoner and Psych list…

Sometimes an album just speaks to you. It's a combination of everything: the cover, the production, the "vibe" if you will. One component might pull you in; the rest tether you for eternity. Such was the case when I first laid eyes on The Bridge, a one-off project from Kristian Schultze, the keyboard/organ whiz who would later go on to join Passport and then with Michael Holm go on to form the new age band Cusco.

Sometimes I lay in bed at night, struggling to figure out what to listen to in order to calm my brain and find some peace. I have it in my head, the way the guitars sound, the kinds of riffs and sinewy leads I want. Slow, rolling, but catchy and propulsive. It’s more than stoner rock; when everyone and their brother is doing it, I crave something deeper, something that locks into my wavelength.

Tatsuya Nakadai, best known to American audiences as Unosuku the samurai with a gun in Yojimbo, passed away at the age of 92 on November 8th.

A collection of John Waters essential screenplays, adapted for audio. Listen as Waters himself acts out each role in the most delightfully deranged and iconic classics of American filth, camp, and tra...

I can't speak for everyone, but when it comets this metal fan, the end of year season begins with Decibel Magazine's annual "Beat 'em at their own game" posting (sans commentary) of their Top 40 of the Year. This year's list was just released, and like every year there are the usual biases and prejudices along with a handful of surprises.

Like I said, I came to Moon Letters not via their debut, but from their most recent album. This Dark Earth is album #3 (their sophomore effort Thank You From The Future remains unheard...at least until the vinyl arrives), and it doubles down on the instrumental wizardry and lush vocal lines. But it also moves away from the analog, 70s vintage sounds for something more modern, taking influences from 80s rock and metal to hone in on and craft their own identity.

When it comes debuts, I like to come in with a different set of expectations, especially if I'm coming to it after already heard later releases. Such is the case with Moon Letters, a Seattle, WA band whose debut Until They Feel The Sun wears its influences so clearly on its sleeve there are moments when I chuckle. But it's exuberant, and to my ears comes not from calculation but from the rush of joy that comes from making something that speaks to that inner voice, the one that prompted the picking up of an instrument in the first place.

I love it when I discover something with tendrils. As per usual, it started with Erik, who introduced me to the soft, joyous psychedelic haze of Kikagaku Moyo. Through them, the tendril reached to the label, Guruguru Brain, and I discovered an entire world of interesting, complex yet utterly entrancing sounds from the likes of LAIR and Minami Deutsch, among others.

Another shiny object found in the detritus of the 70s: Fields, a trio led by keyboardist Graham Field that rolled deep in the waters of symphonic, progressive, and psychedelic rock. I was only made aware of them a month ago, and I don't think I'm alone; how else to explain the existence of Feeling Free (The Complete Recordings 1971-1973)

Expectation is such a heavy thing when it comes to your favorite bands. You want to support them, to give them room to stretch and create and follow their personal muse (muses? It’s early in the morning) wherever it will take them. But you know deep down there’s a small kernel of…let’s call it yearning…for them to do exactly what YOU want.

I'm starting to get back into the groove. I've got stacks of CDs and vinyl records waiting to be spun and reviewed, we're going to start formally crossing over with Nine Circles, featuring the metal reviews I write over there over here (hence the new menu option - will probably load them up on Sundays) and to top it all off I snagged a sweet DAP (Digital Audio Player) from FIIO, popped a 1TB microSD card in it and started loading my Bandcamp collection in FLAC format to it.

At this point I can't remember what turned me on to Golomb, the trio out of Columbus, OH that somehow manages to sound like Kevin Shields was behind the boards for The Beat Goes On, the band's sophomore LP. It's a new release, although you'd be more than forgiven for thinking this came out alongside albums by The Breeders and Velocity Girl in the 90s; it has that exact vibe: loose and grungy with fuzz, doubled vocals, and a real knack to carve out sweet melodic hooks underneath the shoegaze heavy distortions.

Gotta love the dusty corner where you come across those "one and done" bands. Especially in Germany, where the krautrock reaction to the rise of the American and UK rock scenes spawned any number of bands reaching to find a musical expression that embraced the rise of that country's youth. Orange Peel may have taken a safer path with their self-titled album - this is very much indebted to the aforementioned scenes - but when it's done this well, who really cares?

How many times have I said that some albums seem tailor-made just for me? More than a few, by my addled-brain estimation. And yet that's where we find ourselves with Heather & Hearth, the second album from Spain's Phantom Spell, which is essentially one guy. But that guy, Kyle McNeill, seems to have offered up his soul to be the perfect vessel for 70s analog progressive rock (

YouTube video by Richard W

We did it. Well, I did it. I got through the 12th annual Hooptober marathon, reviewing 31 films with only one re-watch, and I ALSO finished the 900-page biography of the Grateful Dead, complete with deep dives into their studio discography (well, up to Blues for Allah, anyway) with detours to some of their best live documents. Now it's November and I have stacks of CDs and vinyl arranged according to 2025 releases and older box sets and reissues I want to try and get through before the end of the year.

Where does a listener start when it comes to the "electric period" of Miles Davis? Where does the "electric period" even begin? Miles and the second quintet were using electric instruments as far back as Miles In The Sky (a personal favorite) but it seems like most folks peg it at the ambient, rolling atmosphere of In A Silent Way…

YouTube video by Miles Davis - Topic