#swedishrock — Public Fediverse posts

T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land brims with quotable quotes, no section more than I: The Burial of the Dead. There, we learn that ‘April is the cruellest month,’ see ‘fear in a handful of dust,’1 and drift through the ‘Unreal City’ (1, 30, 60). For the title of their sixth album, Swedish post-rock duo Oh Hiroshima digs into the opening gambit of Eliot’s modernist epic for a deeper cut: ‘Son of man, / You cannot say, or guess, for you know only / A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, / And the dead tree gives no shelter” (20–23, emphasis mine).2 The ‘dead tree,’ the band explains in their promo materials, serves as a fitting metaphor for ‘ways of living that drain the world of meaning and offer no real way of navigating the hardships of life.’ Cloistering oneself from an increasingly dystopian world breeds cynicism and apathy, making it impossible to overcome the despair caused by this world.3 Musically, And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter attempts to ‘paint something meaningful and hopeful’ that can help us ‘leave the shelterless dead trees of our lives behind.’ For Oh Hiroshima to achieve such lofty ambitions, the tracks populating Dead Tree must avoid resembling a heap of broken images, instead cohering into a compendium of vulnerable yet powerful songs.

On And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter, Oh Hiroshima continue diversifying their cathartic take on post-rock. Since 2022’s Myriad, Jakob Hemström (guitar, bass, vocals) and Oskar Nilsson (drums, percussion) have been adding progressive rock elements into their repertoire.4 Dead Tree recalls the textured guitar work of Mogwai, the nuanced rhythms of Tortoise, and the driving immediacy of latter-day Thrice. Subtly, the compositions are often non-traditional, gradually layering sparkling guitars over odd-time drum n’ bass and crescendoing into heavier riffing (“Meridian”). Adding to the adventurous compositions is orchestral instrumentation, with delicate piano twinkles and soaring strings swirling around the rock-band core (“Tree of Life”). Sometimes, Dead Tree releases tension through driving energy; other times, it bottles up the tension, creating a sense of longing.

And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter also continues the band’s growing emphasis on vocals. When present in post-rock, vocals can be a bit too atmospheric and mumbly for my liking. Oh Hiroshima does occasionally write passages where Hemström’s voice unclearly contributes to sonic depth (“Servant of All,” “Meridian”). But for the most part, Dead Tree gives its vocals prominence without feeding into cliché rock-song structures. “Broken Sunlight,” for example, bookends a circuitous guitar melody, powered by a stop-start groove, with a robust, titular-line ‘chorus.’ On the more vulnerable side of the spectrum, “Angelos” comes closest to predictability, but the haunting, piano-led bridge that sprouts from the beautifully harmonized verse-chorus cycle is anything but. While not the norm on Dead Tree, these vocal-driven songs, hewing closer to traditional structures, become the glimmers that—oddly—keep the album fresh.

At 8 tracks totaling 47 minutes, And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter coheres into a satisfying experience, with only a cracked image or two. “Servant of All” aptly introduces Oh Hiroshima’s arsenal, while “Meridian” emphasizes rhythm and “Angelos” spotlights melody. After this opening trio, “Skeleton Key” flirts with filler—while not a bad song, its mid-song jolt doesn’t develop into something terribly interesting. Fortunately, side B revamps with the ornate melancholy of “Tree of Life” and the straight-ahead drive of “Broken Sunlight.” “Ivory Town” is quite beautiful, though it doesn’t exactly stand on its own, feeling like a minimalist setup for the closer. Like a flock of Red Sparrowes, “Exit Cloud” escalates, overlaying strings and horns into a cinematic concoction, picking up the pace halfway before an intense conclusion. Perhaps the album’s strongest song, it’s a dynamite ending to Dead Tree.

Oh Hiroshima has certainly succeeded at producing an album that feels ‘meaningful.’ And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter sounds beautiful, if perhaps humdrum, on a first listen or two. Repeat engagements, however, reveal compositional and instrumental depth, cementing the emotional staying power of its songs (with an exception or two). Son of Angry Metal Guy: if you know only a heap of breakneck metal, Dead Tree likely isn’t for you. If, however, you don’t mind post-ing your metal, or can get down with its gentler cousin, Dead Tree might supply the shantih you’ve been seeking.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 5th, 2026

T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land brims with quotable quotes, no section more than I: The Burial of the Dead. There, we learn that ‘April is the cruellest month,’ see ‘fear in a handful of dust,’1 and drift through the ‘Unreal City’ (1, 30, 60). For the title of their sixth album, Swedish post-rock duo Oh Hiroshima digs into the opening gambit of Eliot’s modernist epic for a deeper cut: ‘Son of man, / You cannot say, or guess, for you know only / A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, / And the dead tree gives no shelter” (20–23, emphasis mine).2 The ‘dead tree,’ the band explains in their promo materials, serves as a fitting metaphor for ‘ways of living that drain the world of meaning and offer no real way of navigating the hardships of life.’ Cloistering oneself from an increasingly dystopian world breeds cynicism and apathy, making it impossible to overcome the despair caused by this world.3 Musically, And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter attempts to ‘paint something meaningful and hopeful’ that can help us ‘leave the shelterless dead trees of our lives behind.’ For Oh Hiroshima to achieve such lofty ambitions, the tracks populating Dead Tree must avoid resembling a heap of broken images, instead cohering into a compendium of vulnerable yet powerful songs.

On And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter, Oh Hiroshima continue diversifying their cathartic take on post-rock. Since 2022’s Myriad, Jakob Hemström (guitar, bass, vocals) and Oskar Nilsson (drums, percussion) have been adding progressive rock elements into their repertoire.4 Dead Tree recalls the textured guitar work of Mogwai, the nuanced rhythms of Tortoise, and the driving immediacy of latter-day Thrice. Subtly, the compositions are often non-traditional, gradually layering sparkling guitars over odd-time drum n’ bass and crescendoing into heavier riffing (“Meridian”). Adding to the adventurous compositions is orchestral instrumentation, with delicate piano twinkles and soaring strings swirling around the rock-band core (“Tree of Life”). Sometimes, Dead Tree releases tension through driving energy; other times, it bottles up the tension, creating a sense of longing.

And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter also continues the band’s growing emphasis on vocals. When present in post-rock, vocals can be a bit too atmospheric and mumbly for my liking. Oh Hiroshima does occasionally write passages where Hemström’s voice unclearly contributes to sonic depth (“Servant of All,” “Meridian”). But for the most part, Dead Tree gives its vocals prominence without feeding into cliché rock-song structures. “Broken Sunlight,” for example, bookends a circuitous guitar melody, powered by a stop-start groove, with a robust, titular-line ‘chorus.’ On the more vulnerable side of the spectrum, “Angelos” comes closest to predictability, but the haunting, piano-led bridge that sprouts from the beautifully harmonized verse-chorus cycle is anything but. While not the norm on Dead Tree, these vocal-driven songs, hewing closer to traditional structures, become the glimmers that—oddly—keep the album fresh.

At 8 tracks totaling 47 minutes, And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter coheres into a satisfying experience, with only a cracked image or two. “Servant of All” aptly introduces Oh Hiroshima’s arsenal, while “Meridian” emphasizes rhythm and “Angelos” spotlights melody. After this opening trio, “Skeleton Key” flirts with filler—while not a bad song, its mid-song jolt doesn’t develop into something terribly interesting. Fortunately, side B revamps with the ornate melancholy of “Tree of Life” and the straight-ahead drive of “Broken Sunlight.” “Ivory Town” is quite beautiful, though it doesn’t exactly stand on its own, feeling like a minimalist setup for the closer. Like a flock of Red Sparrowes, “Exit Cloud” escalates, overlaying strings and horns into a cinematic concoction, picking up the pace halfway before an intense conclusion. Perhaps the album’s strongest song, it’s a dynamite ending to Dead Tree.

Oh Hiroshima has certainly succeeded at producing an album that feels ‘meaningful.’ And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter sounds beautiful, if perhaps humdrum, on a first listen or two. Repeat engagements, however, reveal compositional and instrumental depth, cementing the emotional staying power of its songs (with an exception or two). Son of Angry Metal Guy: if you know only a heap of breakneck metal, Dead Tree likely isn’t for you. If, however, you don’t mind post-ing your metal, or can get down with its gentler cousin, Dead Tree might supply the shantih you’ve been seeking.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 5th, 2026

T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land brims with quotable quotes, no section more than I: The Burial of the Dead. There, we learn that ‘April is the cruellest month,’ see ‘fear in a handful of dust,’1 and drift through the ‘Unreal City’ (1, 30, 60). For the title of their sixth album, Swedish post-rock duo Oh Hiroshima digs into the opening gambit of Eliot’s modernist epic for a deeper cut: ‘Son of man, / You cannot say, or guess, for you know only / A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, / And the dead tree gives no shelter” (20–23, emphasis mine).2 The ‘dead tree,’ the band explains in their promo materials, serves as a fitting metaphor for ‘ways of living that drain the world of meaning and offer no real way of navigating the hardships of life.’ Cloistering oneself from an increasingly dystopian world breeds cynicism and apathy, making it impossible to overcome the despair caused by this world.3 Musically, And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter attempts to ‘paint something meaningful and hopeful’ that can help us ‘leave the shelterless dead trees of our lives behind.’ For Oh Hiroshima to achieve such lofty ambitions, the tracks populating Dead Tree must avoid resembling a heap of broken images, instead cohering into a compendium of vulnerable yet powerful songs.

On And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter, Oh Hiroshima continue diversifying their cathartic take on post-rock. Since 2022’s Myriad, Jakob Hemström (guitar, bass, vocals) and Oskar Nilsson (drums, percussion) have been adding progressive rock elements into their repertoire.4 Dead Tree recalls the textured guitar work of Mogwai, the nuanced rhythms of Tortoise, and the driving immediacy of latter-day Thrice. Subtly, the compositions are often non-traditional, gradually layering sparkling guitars over odd-time drum n’ bass and crescendoing into heavier riffing (“Meridian”). Adding to the adventurous compositions is orchestral instrumentation, with delicate piano twinkles and soaring strings swirling around the rock-band core (“Tree of Life”). Sometimes, Dead Tree releases tension through driving energy; other times, it bottles up the tension, creating a sense of longing.

And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter also continues the band’s growing emphasis on vocals. When present in post-rock, vocals can be a bit too atmospheric and mumbly for my liking. Oh Hiroshima does occasionally write passages where Hemström’s voice unclearly contributes to sonic depth (“Servant of All,” “Meridian”). But for the most part, Dead Tree gives its vocals prominence without feeding into cliché rock-song structures. “Broken Sunlight,” for example, bookends a circuitous guitar melody, powered by a stop-start groove, with a robust, titular-line ‘chorus.’ On the more vulnerable side of the spectrum, “Angelos” comes closest to predictability, but the haunting, piano-led bridge that sprouts from the beautifully harmonized verse-chorus cycle is anything but. While not the norm on Dead Tree, these vocal-driven songs, hewing closer to traditional structures, become the glimmers that—oddly—keep the album fresh.

At 8 tracks totaling 47 minutes, And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter coheres into a satisfying experience, with only a cracked image or two. “Servant of All” aptly introduces Oh Hiroshima’s arsenal, while “Meridian” emphasizes rhythm and “Angelos” spotlights melody. After this opening trio, “Skeleton Key” flirts with filler—while not a bad song, its mid-song jolt doesn’t develop into something terribly interesting. Fortunately, side B revamps with the ornate melancholy of “Tree of Life” and the straight-ahead drive of “Broken Sunlight.” “Ivory Town” is quite beautiful, though it doesn’t exactly stand on its own, feeling like a minimalist setup for the closer. Like a flock of Red Sparrowes, “Exit Cloud” escalates, overlaying strings and horns into a cinematic concoction, picking up the pace halfway before an intense conclusion. Perhaps the album’s strongest song, it’s a dynamite ending to Dead Tree.

Oh Hiroshima has certainly succeeded at producing an album that feels ‘meaningful.’ And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter sounds beautiful, if perhaps humdrum, on a first listen or two. Repeat engagements, however, reveal compositional and instrumental depth, cementing the emotional staying power of its songs (with an exception or two). Son of Angry Metal Guy: if you know only a heap of breakneck metal, Dead Tree likely isn’t for you. If, however, you don’t mind post-ing your metal, or can get down with its gentler cousin, Dead Tree might supply the shantih you’ve been seeking.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 5th, 2026

T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land brims with quotable quotes, no section more than I: The Burial of the Dead. There, we learn that ‘April is the cruellest month,’ see ‘fear in a handful of dust,’1 and drift through the ‘Unreal City’ (1, 30, 60). For the title of their sixth album, Swedish post-rock duo Oh Hiroshima digs into the opening gambit of Eliot’s modernist epic for a deeper cut: ‘Son of man, / You cannot say, or guess, for you know only / A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, / And the dead tree gives no shelter” (20–23, emphasis mine).2 The ‘dead tree,’ the band explains in their promo materials, serves as a fitting metaphor for ‘ways of living that drain the world of meaning and offer no real way of navigating the hardships of life.’ Cloistering oneself from an increasingly dystopian world breeds cynicism and apathy, making it impossible to overcome the despair caused by this world.3 Musically, And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter attempts to ‘paint something meaningful and hopeful’ that can help us ‘leave the shelterless dead trees of our lives behind.’ For Oh Hiroshima to achieve such lofty ambitions, the tracks populating Dead Tree must avoid resembling a heap of broken images, instead cohering into a compendium of vulnerable yet powerful songs.

On And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter, Oh Hiroshima continue diversifying their cathartic take on post-rock. Since 2022’s Myriad, Jakob Hemström (guitar, bass, vocals) and Oskar Nilsson (drums, percussion) have been adding progressive rock elements into their repertoire.4 Dead Tree recalls the textured guitar work of Mogwai, the nuanced rhythms of Tortoise, and the driving immediacy of latter-day Thrice. Subtly, the compositions are often non-traditional, gradually layering sparkling guitars over odd-time drum n’ bass and crescendoing into heavier riffing (“Meridian”). Adding to the adventurous compositions is orchestral instrumentation, with delicate piano twinkles and soaring strings swirling around the rock-band core (“Tree of Life”). Sometimes, Dead Tree releases tension through driving energy; other times, it bottles up the tension, creating a sense of longing.

And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter also continues the band’s growing emphasis on vocals. When present in post-rock, vocals can be a bit too atmospheric and mumbly for my liking. Oh Hiroshima does occasionally write passages where Hemström’s voice unclearly contributes to sonic depth (“Servant of All,” “Meridian”). But for the most part, Dead Tree gives its vocals prominence without feeding into cliché rock-song structures. “Broken Sunlight,” for example, bookends a circuitous guitar melody, powered by a stop-start groove, with a robust, titular-line ‘chorus.’ On the more vulnerable side of the spectrum, “Angelos” comes closest to predictability, but the haunting, piano-led bridge that sprouts from the beautifully harmonized verse-chorus cycle is anything but. While not the norm on Dead Tree, these vocal-driven songs, hewing closer to traditional structures, become the glimmers that—oddly—keep the album fresh.

At 8 tracks totaling 47 minutes, And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter coheres into a satisfying experience, with only a cracked image or two. “Servant of All” aptly introduces Oh Hiroshima’s arsenal, while “Meridian” emphasizes rhythm and “Angelos” spotlights melody. After this opening trio, “Skeleton Key” flirts with filler—while not a bad song, its mid-song jolt doesn’t develop into something terribly interesting. Fortunately, side B revamps with the ornate melancholy of “Tree of Life” and the straight-ahead drive of “Broken Sunlight.” “Ivory Town” is quite beautiful, though it doesn’t exactly stand on its own, feeling like a minimalist setup for the closer. Like a flock of Red Sparrowes, “Exit Cloud” escalates, overlaying strings and horns into a cinematic concoction, picking up the pace halfway before an intense conclusion. Perhaps the album’s strongest song, it’s a dynamite ending to Dead Tree.

Oh Hiroshima has certainly succeeded at producing an album that feels ‘meaningful.’ And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter sounds beautiful, if perhaps humdrum, on a first listen or two. Repeat engagements, however, reveal compositional and instrumental depth, cementing the emotional staying power of its songs (with an exception or two). Son of Angry Metal Guy: if you know only a heap of breakneck metal, Dead Tree likely isn’t for you. If, however, you don’t mind post-ing your metal, or can get down with its gentler cousin, Dead Tree might supply the shantih you’ve been seeking.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 5th, 2026

T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land brims with quotable quotes, no section more than I: The Burial of the Dead. There, we learn that ‘April is the cruellest month,’ see ‘fear in a handful of dust,’1 and drift through the ‘Unreal City’ (1, 30, 60). For the title of their sixth album, Swedish post-rock duo Oh Hiroshima digs into the opening gambit of Eliot’s modernist epic for a deeper cut: ‘Son of man, / You cannot say, or guess, for you know only / A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, / And the dead tree gives no shelter” (20–23, emphasis mine).2 The ‘dead tree,’ the band explains in their promo materials, serves as a fitting metaphor for ‘ways of living that drain the world of meaning and offer no real way of navigating the hardships of life.’ Cloistering oneself from an increasingly dystopian world breeds cynicism and apathy, making it impossible to overcome the despair caused by this world.3 Musically, And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter attempts to ‘paint something meaningful and hopeful’ that can help us ‘leave the shelterless dead trees of our lives behind.’ For Oh Hiroshima to achieve such lofty ambitions, the tracks populating Dead Tree must avoid resembling a heap of broken images, instead cohering into a compendium of vulnerable yet powerful songs.

On And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter, Oh Hiroshima continue diversifying their cathartic take on post-rock. Since 2022’s Myriad, Jakob Hemström (guitar, bass, vocals) and Oskar Nilsson (drums, percussion) have been adding progressive rock elements into their repertoire.4 Dead Tree recalls the textured guitar work of Mogwai, the nuanced rhythms of Tortoise, and the driving immediacy of latter-day Thrice. Subtly, the compositions are often non-traditional, gradually layering sparkling guitars over odd-time drum n’ bass and crescendoing into heavier riffing (“Meridian”). Adding to the adventurous compositions is orchestral instrumentation, with delicate piano twinkles and soaring strings swirling around the rock-band core (“Tree of Life”). Sometimes, Dead Tree releases tension through driving energy; other times, it bottles up the tension, creating a sense of longing.

And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter also continues the band’s growing emphasis on vocals. When present in post-rock, vocals can be a bit too atmospheric and mumbly for my liking. Oh Hiroshima does occasionally write passages where Hemström’s voice unclearly contributes to sonic depth (“Servant of All,” “Meridian”). But for the most part, Dead Tree gives its vocals prominence without feeding into cliché rock-song structures. “Broken Sunlight,” for example, bookends a circuitous guitar melody, powered by a stop-start groove, with a robust, titular-line ‘chorus.’ On the more vulnerable side of the spectrum, “Angelos” comes closest to predictability, but the haunting, piano-led bridge that sprouts from the beautifully harmonized verse-chorus cycle is anything but. While not the norm on Dead Tree, these vocal-driven songs, hewing closer to traditional structures, become the glimmers that—oddly—keep the album fresh.

At 8 tracks totaling 47 minutes, And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter coheres into a satisfying experience, with only a cracked image or two. “Servant of All” aptly introduces Oh Hiroshima’s arsenal, while “Meridian” emphasizes rhythm and “Angelos” spotlights melody. After this opening trio, “Skeleton Key” flirts with filler—while not a bad song, its mid-song jolt doesn’t develop into something terribly interesting. Fortunately, side B revamps with the ornate melancholy of “Tree of Life” and the straight-ahead drive of “Broken Sunlight.” “Ivory Town” is quite beautiful, though it doesn’t exactly stand on its own, feeling like a minimalist setup for the closer. Like a flock of Red Sparrowes, “Exit Cloud” escalates, overlaying strings and horns into a cinematic concoction, picking up the pace halfway before an intense conclusion. Perhaps the album’s strongest song, it’s a dynamite ending to Dead Tree.

Oh Hiroshima has certainly succeeded at producing an album that feels ‘meaningful.’ And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter sounds beautiful, if perhaps humdrum, on a first listen or two. Repeat engagements, however, reveal compositional and instrumental depth, cementing the emotional staying power of its songs (with an exception or two). Son of Angry Metal Guy: if you know only a heap of breakneck metal, Dead Tree likely isn’t for you. If, however, you don’t mind post-ing your metal, or can get down with its gentler cousin, Dead Tree might supply the shantih you’ve been seeking.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 5th, 2026

Vinylsonntag: @imperialstateelectric - All Through The Night (2016 🇸🇪) Canister Box Edition

#vinylsonntag #semmehorcht #vinylsunday #vinylmatinee #swedenrocks #imperialstateelectric #allthroughthenight #nickeandersson #swedishrock #rocknroll #garagerock #hardrock #scandinavianrock #psychoutrecords #canisterbox #picturedisc #limitededitionvinyl #vinylcollector #vinylcollection #vinylcommunity #vinyladdict #vinyljunkie #nowspinning #onmyturntable #33rpm #lpcollection

Vinyldonnerstag: @granderoyaleofficial – Captured Live (2018 🇸🇪)

#vinyldonnerstag #semmehorcht #vinylthursday #vinylmatinee #vinylvatertag #granderoyale #capturedlive #thesignrecords #swedishrock #swedenrocks #scandinavianrock #rocknroll #garagerock #actionrock #highenergyrocknroll #livealbum #livevinyl #vinylcollection #vinylcollector #vinylcommunity #recordcollection #recordcollector #nowspinning #nowspinningonvinyl #spinningvinyl #vinyllove #vinyladdict #vinylgram #33rpm

Vinylsamstag: Thunder Express – We Play for Pleasure (2000) 🇸🇪

#vinylsamstag #semmehorcht #VinylSaturday #vinylmatinee #robertdahlqvist #whitevinyl #nowspinning #nowplaying #vinyl #vinylcollection #vinylcollector #recordcollection #recordcollector #onmyturntable #spinningnow #instavinyl #vinyllove #vinyljunkie #rocknroll #hardrock #scandinavianrock #swedishrock #thunderexpress #weplayforpleasure #lp #vinylgram #records #albumoftheday #musiclover #analogueaudio #turntable #hellacopters

Vinylsamstag: @liarthiefbandit - Diamonds (2022) 🇸🇪

#vinylmatinee #VinylSaturday #semmehorcht #liarthiefbandit #diamonds #swedenrock #actionrock #scandinavianrock #rocknroll #hardrock #highenergyrocknroll #theSignRecords #vinyl #onvinyl #vinylcollection #vinylcollector #vinylcommunity #vinyligclub #vinyljunkie #nowspinning #spinningnow #recordcollection #recordcollector #instavinyl #albumoftheday #rockvinyl #vinyllove #vinyladdict #33rpm #swedishrock

And here it is 🌩️
Vinylfreitag: @thehellacopters - Cream of the Crap! Vol. 3 (2026) 🇸🇪

#vinylfreitag #semmehorcht #vinylfriday #vinylmatinee #thehellacopters #hellacopters #scandinavianrock #swedishrock #rocknroll #garagepunk #highenergyrocknroll #actionrock #nuclearblast #imeighteen #vinylcommunity #vinylcollector #vinyladdict #nowspinning #spinningvinyl #recordcollector #recordcollection #BonyMoronie #doublelp #gatefold #rarities #bsides #creamofthecrapvol3 #analogmusic #rockvinyl

See u tomorrow, Mr. Postman!
Vinylsonntag: @thehellacopters – Disappointment Blues (1998 🇸🇪)

#vinylsonntag #semmehorcht #vinylsunday #vinylmatinee #thehellacopters #455sd #disappointmentblues #swedishrock #sverige #sweden #1998 #garagerock #actionrock #rocknroll #highenergyrock #punkrock #vinylcommunity #vinylcollector #vinylcollection #recordcollection #nowspinning #instavinyl #vinyladdict #vinyljunkie #vinyligclub #vinylporn #creamofthecrapvol3 #radiobirdman #spinningvinyl #loudmusic

See u tomorrow, Mr. Postman!
Vinylsonntag: @thehellacopters – Disappointment Blues (1998 🇸🇪)

#vinylsonntag #semmehorcht #vinylsunday #vinylmatinee #thehellacopters #455sd #disappointmentblues #swedishrock #sverige #sweden #1998 #garagerock #actionrock #rocknroll #highenergyrock #punkrock #vinylcommunity #vinylcollector #vinylcollection #recordcollection #nowspinning #instavinyl #vinyladdict #vinyljunkie #vinyligclub #vinylporn #creamofthecrapvol3 #radiobirdman #spinningvinyl #loudmusic

Majestica - Power Train

https://thebrainbin.org/m/AlbumArtwork[email protected]/t/1403645

Majestica - Power Train

https://thebrainbin.org/m/AlbumArtwork[email protected]/t/1403645

Majestica - Power Train

https://thebrainbin.org/m/AlbumArtwork[email protected]/t/1403645

Majestica - Power Train

https://thebrainbin.org/m/AlbumArtwork[email protected]/t/1403645

Majestica - Power Train

https://thebrainbin.org/m/AlbumArtwork[email protected]/t/1403645

Moon Mother – Meadowlands Review

I grew up with a slew of friends who dabbled in the visual arts throughout the years. One…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #ChelseaWolfe #Darkher #EmmaRuthRundle #Entertainment #Feb26 #Independent/Unsigned #Meadowlands #MoonMother #NotMetal #review #Reviews #SwedishRock #UK #UnitedKingdom
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/412258/

https://www.europesays.com/ie/323951/ Moon Mother – Meadowlands Review #2026 #ChelseaWolfe #Darkher #Éire #EmmaRuthRundle #Entertainment #Feb26 #IE #Independent/Unsigned #Ireland #Meadowlands #MoonMother #Music #NotMetal #Review #Reviews #SwedishRock

I grew up with a slew of friends who dabbled in the visual arts throughout the years. One in particular blew me away by stating that the greatest artists aren’t the masters of their trade in every aspect, but rather they know what they don’t have, or rather don’t need, to make a sizable impact. You don’t need to own the most expensive paint set, a wide array of colors at your disposal, or to fill up the canvas with stuff. You have to just create your vision with what you have, and let the negative space do the work for you. Swedish duo Moon Mother knows this. On their second full-length, Meadowlands, they paint a lush, aural landscape teeming with anguish, grief, and trauma, while also crafting a sense of wonder, peace, and a smidge of hope.

You probably scrolled down to the tags section and decided to nope out in record time, especially at the sight of the “Not Metal” tag, and that’s entirely your loss. What guitarist Patriec Ahlström and vocalist Sara Mehner crafted in Meadowlands is nothing short of breathtaking, and their usage of negative space to allow for Ahlström’s melodies and gentle strums to reverberate and roll through the sleepy landscape they’ve crafted. “Wilderness,” with its finger-plucked strings and gentle electric guitar hums, is a class example of what you can build with only what you’ve got. It’s not the high production values or expensive instruments that carry you through. Rather, it’s knowing what to say, how to say it, and when not to say anything at all.

And Mehner’s angelic voice is the perfect complimentary component. Whether it’s her powerful howling (opener “High Houses”), somber melodies (closer “Windhover”), or her achingly beautiful near-yodels (“Wilderness”, the awesome “Be a Forest, Child!”), Mehner’s ability to wring out the most emotion out of a song or melody rivals that of Chelsea Wolfe or Emma Ruth Rundle in terms of performance and power. The way her gentle wailing closes out the title track stirs up so many raw emotions that will have you feeling both heartbreak and catharsis, no matter how it manifests within you. Singling out certain moments on Meadowlands proved difficult because, in reality, her standout performance, coupled with Ahlström’s musical backdrop, is best enjoyed in a single, uninterrupted, and fully focused listening experience.

If there was a bone to pick with Meadowlands, it’s in the production, and even then, it’s not a dealbreaker. Meadowlands is drenched in reverb, and I mean drenched in reverb. Coupled with the compressed mix, it makes it a bit busy, especially during the second half of “High Houses.” That, and the album is loaded with cathartic moments in the album’s second half, almost to the point of being overwhelmingly so. But the last time I’ve been hit this hard, this potently, by a doom/folk hybrid was with Darkher’s debut album. That is some absolutely stellar company to be with, and Meadowlands connects viscerally on that level.

Sure, I know what the name of the website is, and Meadowlands is a colossal anomaly in that aspect. And yes, I’m sure my colleagues will give me a reasonable (re: absurdly high) amount of shit for giving it the score it’s getting, but Moon Mother crafted an album that’s simultaneously the perfect album to purge your emotions, and an album you can use as a backdrop for a dew-filled foggy morning with a mug of your favorite heated beverage of choice. In creating an album to signify grief and hope, they gained my attention and my adoration. Give it your time, and it most certainly will do the same for you.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format: WAV
Label: Independent/Self-Release
Websites: Official | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

I grew up with a slew of friends who dabbled in the visual arts throughout the years. One in particular blew me away by stating that the greatest artists aren’t the masters of their trade in every aspect, but rather they know what they don’t have, or rather don’t need, to make a sizable impact. You don’t need to own the most expensive paint set, a wide array of colors at your disposal, or to fill up the canvas with stuff. You have to just create your vision with what you have, and let the negative space do the work for you. Swedish duo Moon Mother knows this. On their second full-length, Meadowlands, they paint a lush, aural landscape teeming with anguish, grief, and trauma, while also crafting a sense of wonder, peace, and a smidge of hope.

You probably scrolled down to the tags section and decided to nope out in record time, especially at the sight of the “Not Metal” tag, and that’s entirely your loss. What guitarist Patriec Ahlström and vocalist Sara Mehner crafted in Meadowlands is nothing short of breathtaking, and their usage of negative space to allow for Ahlström’s melodies and gentle strums to reverberate and roll through the sleepy landscape they’ve crafted. “Wilderness,” with its finger-plucked strings and gentle electric guitar hums, is a class example of what you can build with only what you’ve got. It’s not the high production values or expensive instruments that carry you through. Rather, it’s knowing what to say, how to say it, and when not to say anything at all.

And Mehner’s angelic voice is the perfect complimentary component. Whether it’s her powerful howling (opener “High Houses”), somber melodies (closer “Windhover”), or her achingly beautiful near-yodels (“Wilderness”, the awesome “Be a Forest, Child!”), Mehner’s ability to wring out the most emotion out of a song or melody rivals that of Chelsea Wolfe or Emma Ruth Rundle in terms of performance and power. The way her gentle wailing closes out the title track stirs up so many raw emotions that will have you feeling both heartbreak and catharsis, no matter how it manifests within you. Singling out certain moments on Meadowlands proved difficult because, in reality, her standout performance, coupled with Ahlström’s musical backdrop, is best enjoyed in a single, uninterrupted, and fully focused listening experience.

If there was a bone to pick with Meadowlands, it’s in the production, and even then, it’s not a dealbreaker. Meadowlands is drenched in reverb, and I mean drenched in reverb. Coupled with the compressed mix, it makes it a bit busy, especially during the second half of “High Houses.” That, and the album is loaded with cathartic moments in the album’s second half, almost to the point of being overwhelmingly so. But the last time I’ve been hit this hard, this potently, by a doom/folk hybrid was with Darkher’s debut album. That is some absolutely stellar company to be with, and Meadowlands connects viscerally on that level.

Sure, I know what the name of the website is, and Meadowlands is a colossal anomaly in that aspect. And yes, I’m sure my colleagues will give me a reasonable (re: absurdly high) amount of shit for giving it the score it’s getting, but Moon Mother crafted an album that’s simultaneously the perfect album to purge your emotions, and an album you can use as a backdrop for a dew-filled foggy morning with a mug of your favorite heated beverage of choice. In creating an album to signify grief and hope, they gained my attention and my adoration. Give it your time, and it most certainly will do the same for you.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format: WAV
Label: Independent/Self-Release
Websites: Official | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

I grew up with a slew of friends who dabbled in the visual arts throughout the years. One in particular blew me away by stating that the greatest artists aren’t the masters of their trade in every aspect, but rather they know what they don’t have, or rather don’t need, to make a sizable impact. You don’t need to own the most expensive paint set, a wide array of colors at your disposal, or to fill up the canvas with stuff. You have to just create your vision with what you have, and let the negative space do the work for you. Swedish duo Moon Mother knows this. On their second full-length, Meadowlands, they paint a lush, aural landscape teeming with anguish, grief, and trauma, while also crafting a sense of wonder, peace, and a smidge of hope.

You probably scrolled down to the tags section and decided to nope out in record time, especially at the sight of the “Not Metal” tag, and that’s entirely your loss. What guitarist Patriec Ahlström and vocalist Sara Mehner crafted in Meadowlands is nothing short of breathtaking, and their usage of negative space to allow for Ahlström’s melodies and gentle strums to reverberate and roll through the sleepy landscape they’ve crafted. “Wilderness,” with its finger-plucked strings and gentle electric guitar hums, is a class example of what you can build with only what you’ve got. It’s not the high production values or expensive instruments that carry you through. Rather, it’s knowing what to say, how to say it, and when not to say anything at all.

And Mehner’s angelic voice is the perfect complimentary component. Whether it’s her powerful howling (opener “High Houses”), somber melodies (closer “Windhover”), or her achingly beautiful near-yodels (“Wilderness”, the awesome “Be a Forest, Child!”), Mehner’s ability to wring out the most emotion out of a song or melody rivals that of Chelsea Wolfe or Emma Ruth Rundle in terms of performance and power. The way her gentle wailing closes out the title track stirs up so many raw emotions that will have you feeling both heartbreak and catharsis, no matter how it manifests within you. Singling out certain moments on Meadowlands proved difficult because, in reality, her standout performance, coupled with Ahlström’s musical backdrop, is best enjoyed in a single, uninterrupted, and fully focused listening experience.

If there was a bone to pick with Meadowlands, it’s in the production, and even then, it’s not a dealbreaker. Meadowlands is drenched in reverb, and I mean drenched in reverb. Coupled with the compressed mix, it makes it a bit busy, especially during the second half of “High Houses.” That, and the album is loaded with cathartic moments in the album’s second half, almost to the point of being overwhelmingly so. But the last time I’ve been hit this hard, this potently, by a doom/folk hybrid was with Darkher’s debut album. That is some absolutely stellar company to be with, and Meadowlands connects viscerally on that level.

Sure, I know what the name of the website is, and Meadowlands is a colossal anomaly in that aspect. And yes, I’m sure my colleagues will give me a reasonable (re: absurdly high) amount of shit for giving it the score it’s getting, but Moon Mother crafted an album that’s simultaneously the perfect album to purge your emotions, and an album you can use as a backdrop for a dew-filled foggy morning with a mug of your favorite heated beverage of choice. In creating an album to signify grief and hope, they gained my attention and my adoration. Give it your time, and it most certainly will do the same for you.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format: WAV
Label: Independent/Self-Release
Websites: Official | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

I grew up with a slew of friends who dabbled in the visual arts throughout the years. One in particular blew me away by stating that the greatest artists aren’t the masters of their trade in every aspect, but rather they know what they don’t have, or rather don’t need, to make a sizable impact. You don’t need to own the most expensive paint set, a wide array of colors at your disposal, or to fill up the canvas with stuff. You have to just create your vision with what you have, and let the negative space do the work for you. Swedish duo Moon Mother knows this. On their second full-length, Meadowlands, they paint a lush, aural landscape teeming with anguish, grief, and trauma, while also crafting a sense of wonder, peace, and a smidge of hope.

You probably scrolled down to the tags section and decided to nope out in record time, especially at the sight of the “Not Metal” tag, and that’s entirely your loss. What guitarist Patriec Ahlström and vocalist Sara Mehner crafted in Meadowlands is nothing short of breathtaking, and their usage of negative space to allow for Ahlström’s melodies and gentle strums to reverberate and roll through the sleepy landscape they’ve crafted. “Wilderness,” with its finger-plucked strings and gentle electric guitar hums, is a class example of what you can build with only what you’ve got. It’s not the high production values or expensive instruments that carry you through. Rather, it’s knowing what to say, how to say it, and when not to say anything at all.

And Mehner’s angelic voice is the perfect complimentary component. Whether it’s her powerful howling (opener “High Houses”), somber melodies (closer “Windhover”), or her achingly beautiful near-yodels (“Wilderness”, the awesome “Be a Forest, Child!”), Mehner’s ability to wring out the most emotion out of a song or melody rivals that of Chelsea Wolfe or Emma Ruth Rundle in terms of performance and power. The way her gentle wailing closes out the title track stirs up so many raw emotions that will have you feeling both heartbreak and catharsis, no matter how it manifests within you. Singling out certain moments on Meadowlands proved difficult because, in reality, her standout performance, coupled with Ahlström’s musical backdrop, is best enjoyed in a single, uninterrupted, and fully focused listening experience.

If there was a bone to pick with Meadowlands, it’s in the production, and even then, it’s not a dealbreaker. Meadowlands is drenched in reverb, and I mean drenched in reverb. Coupled with the compressed mix, it makes it a bit busy, especially during the second half of “High Houses.” That, and the album is loaded with cathartic moments in the album’s second half, almost to the point of being overwhelmingly so. But the last time I’ve been hit this hard, this potently, by a doom/folk hybrid was with Darkher’s debut album. That is some absolutely stellar company to be with, and Meadowlands connects viscerally on that level.

Sure, I know what the name of the website is, and Meadowlands is a colossal anomaly in that aspect. And yes, I’m sure my colleagues will give me a reasonable (re: absurdly high) amount of shit for giving it the score it’s getting, but Moon Mother crafted an album that’s simultaneously the perfect album to purge your emotions, and an album you can use as a backdrop for a dew-filled foggy morning with a mug of your favorite heated beverage of choice. In creating an album to signify grief and hope, they gained my attention and my adoration. Give it your time, and it most certainly will do the same for you.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format: WAV
Label: Independent/Self-Release
Websites: Official | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

I grew up with a slew of friends who dabbled in the visual arts throughout the years. One in particular blew me away by stating that the greatest artists aren’t the masters of their trade in every aspect, but rather they know what they don’t have, or rather don’t need, to make a sizable impact. You don’t need to own the most expensive paint set, a wide array of colors at your disposal, or to fill up the canvas with stuff. You have to just create your vision with what you have, and let the negative space do the work for you. Swedish duo Moon Mother knows this. On their second full-length, Meadowlands, they paint a lush, aural landscape teeming with anguish, grief, and trauma, while also crafting a sense of wonder, peace, and a smidge of hope.

You probably scrolled down to the tags section and decided to nope out in record time, especially at the sight of the “Not Metal” tag, and that’s entirely your loss. What guitarist Patriec Ahlström and vocalist Sara Mehner crafted in Meadowlands is nothing short of breathtaking, and their usage of negative space to allow for Ahlström’s melodies and gentle strums to reverberate and roll through the sleepy landscape they’ve crafted. “Wilderness,” with its finger-plucked strings and gentle electric guitar hums, is a class example of what you can build with only what you’ve got. It’s not the high production values or expensive instruments that carry you through. Rather, it’s knowing what to say, how to say it, and when not to say anything at all.

And Mehner’s angelic voice is the perfect complimentary component. Whether it’s her powerful howling (opener “High Houses”), somber melodies (closer “Windhover”), or her achingly beautiful near-yodels (“Wilderness”, the awesome “Be a Forest, Child!”), Mehner’s ability to wring out the most emotion out of a song or melody rivals that of Chelsea Wolfe or Emma Ruth Rundle in terms of performance and power. The way her gentle wailing closes out the title track stirs up so many raw emotions that will have you feeling both heartbreak and catharsis, no matter how it manifests within you. Singling out certain moments on Meadowlands proved difficult because, in reality, her standout performance, coupled with Ahlström’s musical backdrop, is best enjoyed in a single, uninterrupted, and fully focused listening experience.

If there was a bone to pick with Meadowlands, it’s in the production, and even then, it’s not a dealbreaker. Meadowlands is drenched in reverb, and I mean drenched in reverb. Coupled with the compressed mix, it makes it a bit busy, especially during the second half of “High Houses.” That, and the album is loaded with cathartic moments in the album’s second half, almost to the point of being overwhelmingly so. But the last time I’ve been hit this hard, this potently, by a doom/folk hybrid was with Darkher’s debut album. That is some absolutely stellar company to be with, and Meadowlands connects viscerally on that level.

Sure, I know what the name of the website is, and Meadowlands is a colossal anomaly in that aspect. And yes, I’m sure my colleagues will give me a reasonable (re: absurdly high) amount of shit for giving it the score it’s getting, but Moon Mother crafted an album that’s simultaneously the perfect album to purge your emotions, and an album you can use as a backdrop for a dew-filled foggy morning with a mug of your favorite heated beverage of choice. In creating an album to signify grief and hope, they gained my attention and my adoration. Give it your time, and it most certainly will do the same for you.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format: WAV
Label: Independent/Self-Release
Websites: Official | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

Hällas—Sweden’s self-styled administrators of ‘adventure rock’—has suffered a nearly decade-long absence from AMG. Back in 2017, El Cuervo (rightly) awarded Excerpts from a Future Past a 4.0, praising the debut for its transportive aesthetic and cohesive performances. Since this one-off review, Hällas has become a premier neo- proto-metal act, yet they haven’t reached the exceptionality of their entrance. Conundrum (2020) continued in the vein of Excerpts with a synth-heavy slow burn that (why not?) feels less adventurous than the debut.1 Redressing this safeness, Isle of Wisdom (2022) favors tighter, jauntier tunes that bleed into each other.2 On the heels of two very good albums is Panorama, the first to be released on Hällas’s own (aptly named) Äventry Records. This shift seems to signal the kind of confidence arising from a veteran band coming into their own. Accordingly, Panorama experiments more than any previous Hällas album, but experimentation alone does not guarantee Greatness.

Panorama deftly delivers Hällas’s now-familiar take on heavy, psychedelic prog rock. Indeed, these Swedes still sound like Uriah Heep counseling Iron Maiden. Pre-release single “The Emissary” and closer “At the Summit” best encapsulate classic Hällas. On these tracks, Rickard Swahn and Marcus Petersson bounce between wee-da-lee guitarmonies, Ren-faire acoustic plucks, and driving riffage. Nicklas Malmqvist supplies texture via sparkling synthesizers and percussive organ. It is the infectious guitar/key interplays, however, that define Hällas. Towards the end of “At the Summit,” Swahn, Petersson, and Malmqvist unite for delicious harmonized noodling, building drama before a serene denouement. Wrapped in warm, 70s-sounding production fans have come to expect, Panorama supplies some of the strongest Hällas tunes yet.

Panorama’s experimentations, however, make it Hällas’s most singular statement. Its boldest innovation is “Above the Continuum,” a 20-minute, 7-part suite akin to the eponymous openers of Rush’s 2112 and Yes’s Close to the Edge. On this cinematic saga, Hällas brings Gregorian chants, strings, and horns to their brand of synth-rock. Floydian voice-overs materialize Panorama’s somber narrative, in which a hermit laments encroaching dystopia atop his tower. An imperceptible escalation that finally burrowed under my skin after ten or so listens, “Above the Continuum” is an early Song o’ the Year candidate.3 How does one follow such a sprawling epic? With a trotting jam, of course. On “Face of an Angel,” another pre-release single, drummer Kasper Eriksson rides a sleazy Thin Lizzy groove with bassist/vocalist Tommy Alexandersson, who lays down a droningly hooky chorus. Hällas has dropped crowd pleasers before (“Star Rider,” “Carry On”), but “Face of an Angel” is their poppiest ditty yet and the perfect counterbalance to the opening beast. It is “Bestiaus,” though, that truly spotlights Alexandersson’s vocals. His smoky baritone and booming bellow sit center stage on this affecting piano ballad, standing alone in Hällas’s catalogue.

Five scenes spliced into one holistic picture, Panorama is a grand album, which might not register when glancing at the runtime. Like every Hällas record, Panorama clocks in at just under 45 minutes, yet its more limited track count (5, instead of 7–8) renders every song utterly distinct. There is zero filler here, only questionable moments. “Above the Continuum” has abrupt transitions in its opening minutes, but they don’t hinder the track as a whole. Additionally, the immediate fadeout on the punk ending of “The Emissary” always frustrates me. Frustration is surely the intended effect, but Hällas could have stretched the part a few measures and achieved the same. And “Bestiaus” itself feels a little like a moment, striving for songhood but not quite reaching it. Still, it’s an elegant setup for “At the Summit”—an epic but unprotracted finale.

With Panorama, Hällas has delivered (why not?) their most adventurous album, but it’s also their best work to date. Excerpts hinted at excellence—Panorama achieves it. Per its namesake, Panorama provides a virtually seamless showcase of all that Hällas has done while splendidly surveying new terrain. A fun yet serious record, Panorama puts an angelic synth-rock face on a devilish narrative circulatory system. It’s only January, but these Swedes may have already dropped the neo- proto-metal album of 2026 (and a list-topping contender for yours truly).



Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Äventyr Records
Websites: facebook.com/haellas | hallasband.com
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

Hällas—Sweden’s self-styled administrators of ‘adventure rock’—has suffered a nearly decade-long absence from AMG. Back in 2017, El Cuervo (rightly) awarded Excerpts from a Future Past a 4.0, praising the debut for its transportive aesthetic and cohesive performances. Since this one-off review, Hällas has become a premier neo- proto-metal act, yet they haven’t reached the exceptionality of their entrance. Conundrum (2020) continued in the vein of Excerpts with a synth-heavy slow burn that (why not?) feels less adventurous than the debut.1 Redressing this safeness, Isle of Wisdom (2022) favors tighter, jauntier tunes that bleed into each other.2 On the heels of two very good albums is Panorama, the first to be released on Hällas’s own (aptly named) Äventry Records. This shift seems to signal the kind of confidence arising from a veteran band coming into their own. Accordingly, Panorama experiments more than any previous Hällas album, but experimentation alone does not guarantee Greatness.

Panorama deftly delivers Hällas’s now-familiar take on heavy, psychedelic prog rock. Indeed, these Swedes still sound like Uriah Heep counseling Iron Maiden. Pre-release single “The Emissary” and closer “At the Summit” best encapsulate classic Hällas. On these tracks, Rickard Swahn and Marcus Petersson bounce between wee-da-lee guitarmonies, Ren-faire acoustic plucks, and driving riffage. Nicklas Malmqvist supplies texture via sparkling synthesizers and percussive organ. It is the infectious guitar/key interplays, however, that define Hällas. Towards the end of “At the Summit,” Swahn, Petersson, and Malmqvist unite for delicious harmonized noodling, building drama before a serene denouement. Wrapped in warm, 70s-sounding production fans have come to expect, Panorama supplies some of the strongest Hällas tunes yet.

Panorama’s experimentations, however, make it Hällas’s most singular statement. Its boldest innovation is “Above the Continuum,” a 20-minute, 7-part suite akin to the eponymous openers of Rush’s 2112 and Yes’s Close to the Edge. On this cinematic saga, Hällas brings Gregorian chants, strings, and horns to their brand of synth-rock. Floydian voice-overs materialize Panorama’s somber narrative, in which a hermit laments encroaching dystopia atop his tower. An imperceptible escalation that finally burrowed under my skin after ten or so listens, “Above the Continuum” is an early Song o’ the Year candidate.3 How does one follow such a sprawling epic? With a trotting jam, of course. On “Face of an Angel,” another pre-release single, drummer Kasper Eriksson rides a sleazy Thin Lizzy groove with bassist/vocalist Tommy Alexandersson, who lays down a droningly hooky chorus. Hällas has dropped crowd pleasers before (“Star Rider,” “Carry On”), but “Face of an Angel” is their poppiest ditty yet and the perfect counterbalance to the opening beast. It is “Bestiaus,” though, that truly spotlights Alexandersson’s vocals. His smoky baritone and booming bellow sit center stage on this affecting piano ballad, standing alone in Hällas’s catalogue.

Five scenes spliced into one holistic picture, Panorama is a grand album, which might not register when glancing at the runtime. Like every Hällas record, Panorama clocks in at just under 45 minutes, yet its more limited track count (5, instead of 7–8) renders every song utterly distinct. There is zero filler here, only questionable moments. “Above the Continuum” has abrupt transitions in its opening minutes, but they don’t hinder the track as a whole. Additionally, the immediate fadeout on the punk ending of “The Emissary” always frustrates me. Frustration is surely the intended effect, but Hällas could have stretched the part a few measures and achieved the same. And “Bestiaus” itself feels a little like a moment, striving for songhood but not quite reaching it. Still, it’s an elegant setup for “At the Summit”—an epic but unprotracted finale.

With Panorama, Hällas has delivered (why not?) their most adventurous album, but it’s also their best work to date. Excerpts hinted at excellence—Panorama achieves it. Per its namesake, Panorama provides a virtually seamless showcase of all that Hällas has done while splendidly surveying new terrain. A fun yet serious record, Panorama puts an angelic synth-rock face on a devilish narrative circulatory system. It’s only January, but these Swedes may have already dropped the neo- proto-metal album of 2026 (and a list-topping contender for yours truly).



Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Äventyr Records
Websites: facebook.com/haellas | hallasband.com
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

Hällas—Sweden’s self-styled administrators of ‘adventure rock’—has suffered a nearly decade-long absence from AMG. Back in 2017, El Cuervo (rightly) awarded Excerpts from a Future Past a 4.0, praising the debut for its transportive aesthetic and cohesive performances. Since this one-off review, Hällas has become a premier neo- proto-metal act, yet they haven’t reached the exceptionality of their entrance. Conundrum (2020) continued in the vein of Excerpts with a synth-heavy slow burn that (why not?) feels less adventurous than the debut.1 Redressing this safeness, Isle of Wisdom (2022) favors tighter, jauntier tunes that bleed into each other.2 On the heels of two very good albums is Panorama, the first to be released on Hällas’s own (aptly named) Äventry Records. This shift seems to signal the kind of confidence arising from a veteran band coming into their own. Accordingly, Panorama experiments more than any previous Hällas album, but experimentation alone does not guarantee Greatness.

Panorama deftly delivers Hällas’s now-familiar take on heavy, psychedelic prog rock. Indeed, these Swedes still sound like Uriah Heep counseling Iron Maiden. Pre-release single “The Emissary” and closer “At the Summit” best encapsulate classic Hällas. On these tracks, Rickard Swahn and Marcus Petersson bounce between wee-da-lee guitarmonies, Ren-faire acoustic plucks, and driving riffage. Nicklas Malmqvist supplies texture via sparkling synthesizers and percussive organ. It is the infectious guitar/key interplays, however, that define Hällas. Towards the end of “At the Summit,” Swahn, Petersson, and Malmqvist unite for delicious harmonized noodling, building drama before a serene denouement. Wrapped in warm, 70s-sounding production fans have come to expect, Panorama supplies some of the strongest Hällas tunes yet.

Panorama’s experimentations, however, make it Hällas’s most singular statement. Its boldest innovation is “Above the Continuum,” a 20-minute, 7-part suite akin to the eponymous openers of Rush’s 2112 and Yes’s Close to the Edge. On this cinematic saga, Hällas brings Gregorian chants, strings, and horns to their brand of synth-rock. Floydian voice-overs materialize Panorama’s somber narrative, in which a hermit laments encroaching dystopia atop his tower. An imperceptible escalation that finally burrowed under my skin after ten or so listens, “Above the Continuum” is an early Song o’ the Year candidate.3 How does one follow such a sprawling epic? With a trotting jam, of course. On “Face of an Angel,” another pre-release single, drummer Kasper Eriksson rides a sleazy Thin Lizzy groove with bassist/vocalist Tommy Alexandersson, who lays down a droningly hooky chorus. Hällas has dropped crowd pleasers before (“Star Rider,” “Carry On”), but “Face of an Angel” is their poppiest ditty yet and the perfect counterbalance to the opening beast. It is “Bestiaus,” though, that truly spotlights Alexandersson’s vocals. His smoky baritone and booming bellow sit center stage on this affecting piano ballad, standing alone in Hällas’s catalogue.

Five scenes spliced into one holistic picture, Panorama is a grand album, which might not register when glancing at the runtime. Like every Hällas record, Panorama clocks in at just under 45 minutes, yet its more limited track count (5, instead of 7–8) renders every song utterly distinct. There is zero filler here, only questionable moments. “Above the Continuum” has abrupt transitions in its opening minutes, but they don’t hinder the track as a whole. Additionally, the immediate fadeout on the punk ending of “The Emissary” always frustrates me. Frustration is surely the intended effect, but Hällas could have stretched the part a few measures and achieved the same. And “Bestiaus” itself feels a little like a moment, striving for songhood but not quite reaching it. Still, it’s an elegant setup for “At the Summit”—an epic but unprotracted finale.

With Panorama, Hällas has delivered (why not?) their most adventurous album, but it’s also their best work to date. Excerpts hinted at excellence—Panorama achieves it. Per its namesake, Panorama provides a virtually seamless showcase of all that Hällas has done while splendidly surveying new terrain. A fun yet serious record, Panorama puts an angelic synth-rock face on a devilish narrative circulatory system. It’s only January, but these Swedes may have already dropped the neo- proto-metal album of 2026 (and a list-topping contender for yours truly).



Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Äventyr Records
Websites: facebook.com/haellas | hallasband.com
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

Hällas—Sweden’s self-styled administrators of ‘adventure rock’—has suffered a nearly decade-long absence from AMG. Back in 2017, El Cuervo (rightly) awarded Excerpts from a Future Past a 4.0, praising the debut for its transportive aesthetic and cohesive performances. Since this one-off review, Hällas has become a premier neo- proto-metal act, yet they haven’t reached the exceptionality of their entrance. Conundrum (2020) continued in the vein of Excerpts with a synth-heavy slow burn that (why not?) feels less adventurous than the debut.1 Redressing this safeness, Isle of Wisdom (2022) favors tighter, jauntier tunes that bleed into each other.2 On the heels of two very good albums is Panorama, the first to be released on Hällas’s own (aptly named) Äventry Records. This shift seems to signal the kind of confidence arising from a veteran band coming into their own. Accordingly, Panorama experiments more than any previous Hällas album, but experimentation alone does not guarantee Greatness.

Panorama deftly delivers Hällas’s now-familiar take on heavy, psychedelic prog rock. Indeed, these Swedes still sound like Uriah Heep counseling Iron Maiden. Pre-release single “The Emissary” and closer “At the Summit” best encapsulate classic Hällas. On these tracks, Rickard Swahn and Marcus Petersson bounce between wee-da-lee guitarmonies, Ren-faire acoustic plucks, and driving riffage. Nicklas Malmqvist supplies texture via sparkling synthesizers and percussive organ. It is the infectious guitar/key interplays, however, that define Hällas. Towards the end of “At the Summit,” Swahn, Petersson, and Malmqvist unite for delicious harmonized noodling, building drama before a serene denouement. Wrapped in warm, 70s-sounding production fans have come to expect, Panorama supplies some of the strongest Hällas tunes yet.

Panorama’s experimentations, however, make it Hällas’s most singular statement. Its boldest innovation is “Above the Continuum,” a 20-minute, 7-part suite akin to the eponymous openers of Rush’s 2112 and Yes’s Close to the Edge. On this cinematic saga, Hällas brings Gregorian chants, strings, and horns to their brand of synth-rock. Floydian voice-overs materialize Panorama’s somber narrative, in which a hermit laments encroaching dystopia atop his tower. An imperceptible escalation that finally burrowed under my skin after ten or so listens, “Above the Continuum” is an early Song o’ the Year candidate.3 How does one follow such a sprawling epic? With a trotting jam, of course. On “Face of an Angel,” another pre-release single, drummer Kasper Eriksson rides a sleazy Thin Lizzy groove with bassist/vocalist Tommy Alexandersson, who lays down a droningly hooky chorus. Hällas has dropped crowd pleasers before (“Star Rider,” “Carry On”), but “Face of an Angel” is their poppiest ditty yet and the perfect counterbalance to the opening beast. It is “Bestiaus,” though, that truly spotlights Alexandersson’s vocals. His smoky baritone and booming bellow sit center stage on this affecting piano ballad, standing alone in Hällas’s catalogue.

Five scenes spliced into one holistic picture, Panorama is a grand album, which might not register when glancing at the runtime. Like every Hällas record, Panorama clocks in at just under 45 minutes, yet its more limited track count (5, instead of 7–8) renders every song utterly distinct. There is zero filler here, only questionable moments. “Above the Continuum” has abrupt transitions in its opening minutes, but they don’t hinder the track as a whole. Additionally, the immediate fadeout on the punk ending of “The Emissary” always frustrates me. Frustration is surely the intended effect, but Hällas could have stretched the part a few measures and achieved the same. And “Bestiaus” itself feels a little like a moment, striving for songhood but not quite reaching it. Still, it’s an elegant setup for “At the Summit”—an epic but unprotracted finale.

With Panorama, Hällas has delivered (why not?) their most adventurous album, but it’s also their best work to date. Excerpts hinted at excellence—Panorama achieves it. Per its namesake, Panorama provides a virtually seamless showcase of all that Hällas has done while splendidly surveying new terrain. A fun yet serious record, Panorama puts an angelic synth-rock face on a devilish narrative circulatory system. It’s only January, but these Swedes may have already dropped the neo- proto-metal album of 2026 (and a list-topping contender for yours truly).



Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Äventyr Records
Websites: haellas.bandcamp.com | hallasband.com | facebook.com/haellas
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

Show 3 footnotes

1. Conundrum also concluded a narrative trilogy beginning with the Hällas EP (2015). ↩
2. After Isle of Wisdom, Nicklas Malmqvist supplied keyboards on Blood Incantation’s Absolute Elsewhere (2024). ↩
3. The transition between Desolate Land Ruminations and Into the Chasm at 14:39 made it happen. Thanks to Emmy Sjöström, the band’s manager, for the segment titles! ↩

Hällas—Sweden’s self-styled administrators of ‘adventure rock’—has suffered a nearly decade-long absence from AMG. Back in 2017, El Cuervo (rightly) awarded Excerpts from a Future Past a 4.0, praising the debut for its transportive aesthetic and cohesive performances. Since this one-off review, Hällas has become a premier neo- proto-metal act, yet they haven’t reached the exceptionality of their entrance. Conundrum (2020) continued in the vein of Excerpts with a synth-heavy slow burn that (why not?) feels less adventurous than the debut.1 Redressing this safeness, Isle of Wisdom (2022) favors tighter, jauntier tunes that bleed into each other.2 On the heels of two very good albums is Panorama, the first to be released on Hällas’s own (aptly named) Äventry Records. This shift seems to signal the kind of confidence arising from a veteran band coming into their own. Accordingly, Panorama experiments more than any previous Hällas album, but experimentation alone does not guarantee Greatness.

Panorama deftly delivers Hällas’s now-familiar take on heavy, psychedelic prog rock. Indeed, these Swedes still sound like Uriah Heep counseling Iron Maiden. Pre-release single “The Emissary” and closer “At the Summit” best encapsulate classic Hällas. On these tracks, Rickard Swahn and Marcus Petersson bounce between wee-da-lee guitarmonies, Ren-faire acoustic plucks, and driving riffage. Nicklas Malmqvist supplies texture via sparkling synthesizers and percussive organ. It is the infectious guitar/key interplays, however, that define Hällas. Towards the end of “At the Summit,” Swahn, Petersson, and Malmqvist unite for delicious harmonized noodling, building drama before a serene denouement. Wrapped in warm, 70s-sounding production fans have come to expect, Panorama supplies some of the strongest Hällas tunes yet.

Panorama’s experimentations, however, make it Hällas’s most singular statement. Its boldest innovation is “Above the Continuum,” a 20-minute, 7-part suite akin to the eponymous openers of Rush’s 2112 and Yes’s Close to the Edge. On this cinematic saga, Hällas brings Gregorian chants, strings, and horns to their brand of synth-rock. Floydian voice-overs materialize Panorama’s somber narrative, in which a hermit laments encroaching dystopia atop his tower. An imperceptible escalation that finally burrowed under my skin after ten or so listens, “Above the Continuum” is an early Song o’ the Year candidate.3 How does one follow such a sprawling epic? With a trotting jam, of course. On “Face of an Angel,” another pre-release single, drummer Kasper Eriksson rides a sleazy Thin Lizzy groove with bassist/vocalist Tommy Alexandersson, who lays down a droningly hooky chorus. Hällas has dropped crowd pleasers before (“Star Rider,” “Carry On”), but “Face of an Angel” is their poppiest ditty yet and the perfect counterbalance to the opening beast. It is “Bestiaus,” though, that truly spotlights Alexandersson’s vocals. His smoky baritone and booming bellow sit center stage on this affecting piano ballad, standing alone in Hällas’s catalogue.

Five scenes spliced into one holistic picture, Panorama is a grand album, which might not register when glancing at the runtime. Like every Hällas record, Panorama clocks in at just under 45 minutes, yet its more limited track count (5, instead of 7–8) renders every song utterly distinct. There is zero filler here, only questionable moments. “Above the Continuum” has abrupt transitions in its opening minutes, but they don’t hinder the track as a whole. Additionally, the immediate fadeout on the punk ending of “The Emissary” always frustrates me. Frustration is surely the intended effect, but Hällas could have stretched the part a few measures and achieved the same. And “Bestiaus” itself feels a little like a moment, striving for songhood but not quite reaching it. Still, it’s an elegant setup for “At the Summit”—an epic but unprotracted finale.

With Panorama, Hällas has delivered (why not?) their most adventurous album, but it’s also their best work to date. Excerpts hinted at excellence—Panorama achieves it. Per its namesake, Panorama provides a virtually seamless showcase of all that Hällas has done while splendidly surveying new terrain. A fun yet serious record, Panorama puts an angelic synth-rock face on a devilish narrative circulatory system. It’s only January, but these Swedes may have already dropped the neo- proto-metal album of 2026 (and a list-topping contender for yours truly).



Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Äventyr Records
Websites: facebook.com/haellas | hallasband.com
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

Vinylsonntag: @thehellacopters – Cream of the Crap! Vol. 1 (2002 🇸🇪)

#vinylsonntag #semmehorcht #vinylsunday #vinylmatinee #nowspinning #nowplaying #vinyl #vinylcommunity #vinylcollection #vinylcollector #recordcollector #recordcollection #thehellacopters #hellacopters #scandirock #swedishrock #garagerock #actionrock #punkrock #rocknroll #highenergyrocknroll #rarities #bside #compilationalbum #nordicrock #vinyllover #turntable #highenergyrocknroll #loudmusic #garagepunk

Bacon Wagon – Trauma Cake Review

By Tyme

Noise rock n00bs Bacon Wagon are a trio of Swedish scoundrels not as “n00” to the scene as you might think. From the ashes of disbanded noise act Acid Ape, siblings Marcus and Kristoffer Kinberg arose like Porky the Phoenix and formed Bacon Wagon in 2003. After numerous guitarist auditions, some instrument swapping, and finally finding its third with drummer Peter Johansson in 2006, Bacon Wagon released a couple of splits and an EP before going dark in 2008. While not entirely unproductive in the interim, the trio reunited in 2023 and wrote a slew of new songs that serve as the basis for Bacon Wagon‘s Reptile Records debut album, Trauma Cake. With a Marcus Kinberg cover that had me reaching for a pair of 3-D glasses to keep my eyes straight, I settled down with Bacon Wagon‘s first proper release in twenty-two years, wondering whether eating this particular dessert before dinner would be worth it.

Bacon Wagon in 2025 sounds like an early-aughts garage band trying its best to channel the raucous, late-80s, early-90s-era milieu dominated by Steve Albini projects and the Am Rep roster. Whipped up with equal parts Hammerhead flour, Melvins sugar, Butthole Surfers butter, and Black Flag eggs, baked, then paired with a cold glass of Cows milk, Trauma Cake is a rowdy period piece reflective of its ingredients. Album opener “Tar Salad,” with its screechy, feedback-as-riff intro that gives way to a chest-beating rocker that serves as an aperitif, foreshadowing much of what Trauma Cake has to offer. Marcus Kinberg’s guitars, awash in reverb and fuzz, sans any stoner entanglements, bounce around with Kristoffer’s punk-bully bass lines with loads of King Buzzo-like, grunge-sludgy goo (“Lady Cramps,” “Honey! (I’m Home),” “Bear of a Man”). Johansson pounds the skins with Crover-Grohl power, beating both on and off-tempo beats while keeping things in line. Brothers Kinberg share the mic and steep the Bacon Wagon vocal blitz in loads of sarcastically pompous smarm and snarkumstance. Bacon Wagon keeps its tongue firmly cheeked with an immature attitude that conjures some fun moments, but I’m just not convinced 2025 is the most relevant time for Trauma Cake.

Dumb in a way that doesn’t necessarily mean bad; there’s nothing Bacon Wagon does on Trauma Cake that will have you diving deep into the recesses of your psyche looking for answers. Low-brow and unthought-provoking tracks pulse with punky, chunky energy (“A Voodoo That Actually Works,” “I-Beam”) and lurch about like drunken college students after too many cheap keg beers. Bacon Wagon plays music perfect for sweaty basement venues shrouded in clouds of cigarette smoke, besotted with puddles full of piss and solo-cup spillage. With little in the way of innovation, it’s as though Bacon Wagon recorded Trauma Cake in a time capsule, keeping any modernity at arm’s length while embracing a musical period in time that did not need a retro movement, thereby tapping into a mysterious, underground zeitgeist, like some pre-Sub Pop Nirvana demo.

While the grungier side of Trauma Cake mostly works, the noisy parts detract and, in some cases, are just downright annoying. The biggest offender, “Love Blister,” is as painful to listen to as it would be to pop. With its slow plod of overly fuzzed bass work, Kinberg-squared’s vocals are cartoonishly swoopy and out of tune, as are most of the guitar chords and leads, which screech along before the song ends in a grinding, sustained vocal that recalls Jim Carey’s ‘most annoying sound in the world’ from Dumb and Dumber. And while Trauma Cake only clocks in at a lean thirty-three minutes, by the time “I-Beam” squeals to a close, giving over to the shrieky feedback of “Brown Gravy,” it feels like you’ve spent a lot more time with Bacon Wagon than you have. Lacking any real dynamic detours, the constant and deliberate songwriting approach and execution cause ear fatigue to set in, further blurring the lines of what Trauma Cake is doing into a fuzzy slog.

Better served had it been released in the early 2000s, Trauma Cake is an excellent example of too little, too late. Bacon Wagon‘s wheels have been rolling in the same direction since 2003, and while they aren’t a bad band, they’re just not bringing anything original or exciting to the table. Fans of the mentioned bands will get some enjoyment from Bacon Wagon. But for a genre and era of music that has yet to experience a renaissance, Trauma Cake will not be the record to revitalize it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Reptile Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BaconWagon #BlackFlag #ButtholeSurfers #Cows #Hammerhead #Jun25 #Melvins #NoiseRock #ReptileRecords #Review #SwedishRock #TraumaCake

Bacon Wagon – Trauma Cake Review

By Tyme

Noise rock n00bs Bacon Wagon are a trio of Swedish scoundrels not as “n00” to the scene as you might think. From the ashes of disbanded noise act Acid Ape, siblings Marcus and Kristoffer Kinberg arose like Porky the Phoenix and formed Bacon Wagon in 2003. After numerous guitarist auditions, some instrument swapping, and finally finding its third with drummer Peter Johansson in 2006, Bacon Wagon released a couple of splits and an EP before going dark in 2008. While not entirely unproductive in the interim, the trio reunited in 2023 and wrote a slew of new songs that serve as the basis for Bacon Wagon‘s Reptile Records debut album, Trauma Cake. With a Marcus Kinberg cover that had me reaching for a pair of 3-D glasses to keep my eyes straight, I settled down with Bacon Wagon‘s first proper release in twenty-two years, wondering whether eating this particular dessert before dinner would be worth it.

Bacon Wagon in 2025 sounds like an early-aughts garage band trying its best to channel the raucous, late-80s, early-90s-era milieu dominated by Steve Albini projects and the Am Rep roster. Whipped up with equal parts Hammerhead flour, Melvins sugar, Butthole Surfers butter, and Black Flag eggs, baked, then paired with a cold glass of Cows milk, Trauma Cake is a rowdy period piece reflective of its ingredients. Album opener “Tar Salad,” with its screechy, feedback-as-riff intro that gives way to a chest-beating rocker that serves as an aperitif, foreshadowing much of what Trauma Cake has to offer. Marcus Kinberg’s guitars, awash in reverb and fuzz, sans any stoner entanglements, bounce around with Kristoffer’s punk-bully bass lines with loads of King Buzzo-like, grunge-sludgy goo (“Lady Cramps,” “Honey! (I’m Home),” “Bear of a Man”). Johansson pounds the skins with Crover-Grohl power, beating both on and off-tempo beats while keeping things in line. Brothers Kinberg share the mic and steep the Bacon Wagon vocal blitz in loads of sarcastically pompous smarm and snarkumstance. Bacon Wagon keeps its tongue firmly cheeked with an immature attitude that conjures some fun moments, but I’m just not convinced 2025 is the most relevant time for Trauma Cake.

Dumb in a way that doesn’t necessarily mean bad; there’s nothing Bacon Wagon does on Trauma Cake that will have you diving deep into the recesses of your psyche looking for answers. Low-brow and unthought-provoking tracks pulse with punky, chunky energy (“A Voodoo That Actually Works,” “I-Beam”) and lurch about like drunken college students after too many cheap keg beers. Bacon Wagon plays music perfect for sweaty basement venues shrouded in clouds of cigarette smoke, besotted with puddles full of piss and solo-cup spillage. With little in the way of innovation, it’s as though Bacon Wagon recorded Trauma Cake in a time capsule, keeping any modernity at arm’s length while embracing a musical period in time that did not need a retro movement, thereby tapping into a mysterious, underground zeitgeist, like some pre-Sub Pop Nirvana demo.

While the grungier side of Trauma Cake mostly works, the noisy parts detract and, in some cases, are just downright annoying. The biggest offender, “Love Blister,” is as painful to listen to as it would be to pop. With its slow plod of overly fuzzed bass work, Kinberg-squared’s vocals are cartoonishly swoopy and out of tune, as are most of the guitar chords and leads, which screech along before the song ends in a grinding, sustained vocal that recalls Jim Carey’s ‘most annoying sound in the world’ from Dumb and Dumber. And while Trauma Cake only clocks in at a lean thirty-three minutes, by the time “I-Beam” squeals to a close, giving over to the shrieky feedback of “Brown Gravy,” it feels like you’ve spent a lot more time with Bacon Wagon than you have. Lacking any real dynamic detours, the constant and deliberate songwriting approach and execution cause ear fatigue to set in, further blurring the lines of what Trauma Cake is doing into a fuzzy slog.

Better served had it been released in the early 2000s, Trauma Cake is an excellent example of too little, too late. Bacon Wagon‘s wheels have been rolling in the same direction since 2003, and while they aren’t a bad band, they’re just not bringing anything original or exciting to the table. Fans of the mentioned bands will get some enjoyment from Bacon Wagon. But for a genre and era of music that has yet to experience a renaissance, Trauma Cake will not be the record to revitalize it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Reptile Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BaconWagon #BlackFlag #ButtholeSurfers #Cows #Hammerhead #Jun25 #Melvins #NoiseRock #ReptileRecords #Review #SwedishRock #TraumaCake

Bacon Wagon – Trauma Cake Review

By Tyme

Noise rock n00bs Bacon Wagon are a trio of Swedish scoundrels not as “n00” to the scene as you might think. From the ashes of disbanded noise act Acid Ape, siblings Marcus and Kristoffer Kinberg arose like Porky the Phoenix and formed Bacon Wagon in 2003. After numerous guitarist auditions, some instrument swapping, and finally finding its third with drummer Peter Johansson in 2006, Bacon Wagon released a couple of splits and an EP before going dark in 2008. While not entirely unproductive in the interim, the trio reunited in 2023 and wrote a slew of new songs that serve as the basis for Bacon Wagon‘s Reptile Records debut album, Trauma Cake. With a Marcus Kinberg cover that had me reaching for a pair of 3-D glasses to keep my eyes straight, I settled down with Bacon Wagon‘s first proper release in twenty-two years, wondering whether eating this particular dessert before dinner would be worth it.

Bacon Wagon in 2025 sounds like an early-aughts garage band trying its best to channel the raucous, late-80s, early-90s-era milieu dominated by Steve Albini projects and the Am Rep roster. Whipped up with equal parts Hammerhead flour, Melvins sugar, Butthole Surfers butter, and Black Flag eggs, baked, then paired with a cold glass of Cows milk, Trauma Cake is a rowdy period piece reflective of its ingredients. Album opener “Tar Salad,” with its screechy, feedback-as-riff intro that gives way to a chest-beating rocker that serves as an aperitif, foreshadowing much of what Trauma Cake has to offer. Marcus Kinberg’s guitars, awash in reverb and fuzz, sans any stoner entanglements, bounce around with Kristoffer’s punk-bully bass lines with loads of King Buzzo-like, grunge-sludgy goo (“Lady Cramps,” “Honey! (I’m Home),” “Bear of a Man”). Johansson pounds the skins with Crover-Grohl power, beating both on and off-tempo beats while keeping things in line. Brothers Kinberg share the mic and steep the Bacon Wagon vocal blitz in loads of sarcastically pompous smarm and snarkumstance. Bacon Wagon keeps its tongue firmly cheeked with an immature attitude that conjures some fun moments, but I’m just not convinced 2025 is the most relevant time for Trauma Cake.

Dumb in a way that doesn’t necessarily mean bad; there’s nothing Bacon Wagon does on Trauma Cake that will have you diving deep into the recesses of your psyche looking for answers. Low-brow and unthought-provoking tracks pulse with punky, chunky energy (“A Voodoo That Actually Works,” “I-Beam”) and lurch about like drunken college students after too many cheap keg beers. Bacon Wagon plays music perfect for sweaty basement venues shrouded in clouds of cigarette smoke, besotted with puddles full of piss and solo-cup spillage. With little in the way of innovation, it’s as though Bacon Wagon recorded Trauma Cake in a time capsule, keeping any modernity at arm’s length while embracing a musical period in time that did not need a retro movement, thereby tapping into a mysterious, underground zeitgeist, like some pre-Sub Pop Nirvana demo.

While the grungier side of Trauma Cake mostly works, the noisy parts detract and, in some cases, are just downright annoying. The biggest offender, “Love Blister,” is as painful to listen to as it would be to pop. With its slow plod of overly fuzzed bass work, Kinberg-squared’s vocals are cartoonishly swoopy and out of tune, as are most of the guitar chords and leads, which screech along before the song ends in a grinding, sustained vocal that recalls Jim Carey’s ‘most annoying sound in the world’ from Dumb and Dumber. And while Trauma Cake only clocks in at a lean thirty-three minutes, by the time “I-Beam” squeals to a close, giving over to the shrieky feedback of “Brown Gravy,” it feels like you’ve spent a lot more time with Bacon Wagon than you have. Lacking any real dynamic detours, the constant and deliberate songwriting approach and execution cause ear fatigue to set in, further blurring the lines of what Trauma Cake is doing into a fuzzy slog.

Better served had it been released in the early 2000s, Trauma Cake is an excellent example of too little, too late. Bacon Wagon‘s wheels have been rolling in the same direction since 2003, and while they aren’t a bad band, they’re just not bringing anything original or exciting to the table. Fans of the mentioned bands will get some enjoyment from Bacon Wagon. But for a genre and era of music that has yet to experience a renaissance, Trauma Cake will not be the record to revitalize it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Reptile Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BaconWagon #BlackFlag #ButtholeSurfers #Cows #Hammerhead #Jun25 #Melvins #NoiseRock #ReptileRecords #Review #SwedishRock #TraumaCake

Bacon Wagon – Trauma Cake Review

By Tyme

Noise rock n00bs Bacon Wagon are a trio of Swedish scoundrels not as “n00” to the scene as you might think. From the ashes of disbanded noise act Acid Ape, siblings Marcus and Kristoffer Kinberg arose like Porky the Phoenix and formed Bacon Wagon in 2003. After numerous guitarist auditions, some instrument swapping, and finally finding its third with drummer Peter Johansson in 2006, Bacon Wagon released a couple of splits and an EP before going dark in 2008. While not entirely unproductive in the interim, the trio reunited in 2023 and wrote a slew of new songs that serve as the basis for Bacon Wagon‘s Reptile Records debut album, Trauma Cake. With a Marcus Kinberg cover that had me reaching for a pair of 3-D glasses to keep my eyes straight, I settled down with Bacon Wagon‘s first proper release in twenty-two years, wondering whether eating this particular dessert before dinner would be worth it.

Bacon Wagon in 2025 sounds like an early-aughts garage band trying its best to channel the raucous, late-80s, early-90s-era milieu dominated by Steve Albini projects and the Am Rep roster. Whipped up with equal parts Hammerhead flour, Melvins sugar, Butthole Surfers butter, and Black Flag eggs, baked, then paired with a cold glass of Cows milk, Trauma Cake is a rowdy period piece reflective of its ingredients. Album opener “Tar Salad,” with its screechy, feedback-as-riff intro that gives way to a chest-beating rocker that serves as an aperitif, foreshadowing much of what Trauma Cake has to offer. Marcus Kinberg’s guitars, awash in reverb and fuzz, sans any stoner entanglements, bounce around with Kristoffer’s punk-bully bass lines with loads of King Buzzo-like, grunge-sludgy goo (“Lady Cramps,” “Honey! (I’m Home),” “Bear of a Man”). Johansson pounds the skins with Crover-Grohl power, beating both on and off-tempo beats while keeping things in line. Brothers Kinberg share the mic and steep the Bacon Wagon vocal blitz in loads of sarcastically pompous smarm and snarkumstance. Bacon Wagon keeps its tongue firmly cheeked with an immature attitude that conjures some fun moments, but I’m just not convinced 2025 is the most relevant time for Trauma Cake.

Dumb in a way that doesn’t necessarily mean bad; there’s nothing Bacon Wagon does on Trauma Cake that will have you diving deep into the recesses of your psyche looking for answers. Low-brow and unthought-provoking tracks pulse with punky, chunky energy (“A Voodoo That Actually Works,” “I-Beam”) and lurch about like drunken college students after too many cheap keg beers. Bacon Wagon plays music perfect for sweaty basement venues shrouded in clouds of cigarette smoke, besotted with puddles full of piss and solo-cup spillage. With little in the way of innovation, it’s as though Bacon Wagon recorded Trauma Cake in a time capsule, keeping any modernity at arm’s length while embracing a musical period in time that did not need a retro movement, thereby tapping into a mysterious, underground zeitgeist, like some pre-Sub Pop Nirvana demo.

While the grungier side of Trauma Cake mostly works, the noisy parts detract and, in some cases, are just downright annoying. The biggest offender, “Love Blister,” is as painful to listen to as it would be to pop. With its slow plod of overly fuzzed bass work, Kinberg-squared’s vocals are cartoonishly swoopy and out of tune, as are most of the guitar chords and leads, which screech along before the song ends in a grinding, sustained vocal that recalls Jim Carey’s ‘most annoying sound in the world’ from Dumb and Dumber. And while Trauma Cake only clocks in at a lean thirty-three minutes, by the time “I-Beam” squeals to a close, giving over to the shrieky feedback of “Brown Gravy,” it feels like you’ve spent a lot more time with Bacon Wagon than you have. Lacking any real dynamic detours, the constant and deliberate songwriting approach and execution cause ear fatigue to set in, further blurring the lines of what Trauma Cake is doing into a fuzzy slog.

Better served had it been released in the early 2000s, Trauma Cake is an excellent example of too little, too late. Bacon Wagon‘s wheels have been rolling in the same direction since 2003, and while they aren’t a bad band, they’re just not bringing anything original or exciting to the table. Fans of the mentioned bands will get some enjoyment from Bacon Wagon. But for a genre and era of music that has yet to experience a renaissance, Trauma Cake will not be the record to revitalize it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Reptile Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BaconWagon #BlackFlag #ButtholeSurfers #Cows #Hammerhead #Jun25 #Melvins #NoiseRock #ReptileRecords #Review #SwedishRock #TraumaCake

#AlternateFridayMusic
May 9 2025
The prompt is #Jerk

Caesar’s Palace, “Jerk It Out” from "Love for the Streets" 2002

This track is utterly, totally derivative of #60s early psychedelia, and utterly, totally perfect, from the swirling #Farfisa #organ out front to those shakers chasing and spicing the beat.

You may know this Swedish band as #Caesars but they originally recorded under the name Caesar’s Palace (with a couple of US releases as The Twelve Caesars).

This track first appeared on their 2002 release Love for the Streets, and they wisely included it on the rebranded band’s ‘debut’ album “Paper Tigers” in 2005, where it’s most widely available (albeit not on the sole vinyl release, nor the Swedish CD).

I knew them first from Paper Tigers, #PowerPop that makes it hard to sit still, with some of their earlier, grittier #GarageRock feel still intact. Whatever the name, wherever you find them, these guys get the job done.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w869Avr_fXI

#2000s #2000sMusic #SwedishRock

#AlternateFridayMusic
May 9 2025
The prompt is #Jerk

Caesar’s Palace, “Jerk It Out” from "Love for the Streets" 2002

This track is utterly, totally derivative of #60s early psychedelia, and utterly, totally perfect, from the swirling #Farfisa #organ out front to those shakers chasing and spicing the beat.

You may know this Swedish band as #Caesars but they originally recorded under the name Caesar’s Palace (with a couple of US releases as The Twelve Caesars).

This track first appeared on their 2002 release Love for the Streets, and they wisely included it on the rebranded band’s ‘debut’ album “Paper Tigers” in 2005, where it’s most widely available (albeit not on the sole vinyl release, nor the Swedish CD).

I knew them first from Paper Tigers, #PowerPop that makes it hard to sit still, with some of their earlier, grittier #GarageRock feel still intact. Whatever the name, wherever you find them, these guys get the job done.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w869Avr_fXI

#2000s #2000sMusic #SwedishRock

#AlternateFridayMusic
May 9 2025
The prompt is #Jerk

Caesar’s Palace, “Jerk It Out” from "Love for the Streets" 2002

This track is utterly, totally derivative of #60s early psychedelia, and utterly, totally perfect, from the swirling #Farfisa #organ out front to those shakers chasing and spicing the beat.

You may know this Swedish band as #Caesars but they originally recorded under the name Caesar’s Palace (with a couple of US releases as The Twelve Caesars).

This track first appeared on their 2002 release Love for the Streets, and they wisely included it on the rebranded band’s ‘debut’ album “Paper Tigers” in 2005, where it’s most widely available (albeit not on the sole vinyl release, nor the Swedish CD).

I knew them first from Paper Tigers, #PowerPop that makes it hard to sit still, with some of their earlier, grittier #GarageRock feel still intact. Whatever the name, wherever you find them, these guys get the job done.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w869Avr_fXI

#2000s #2000sMusic #SwedishRock

#AlternateFridayMusic
May 9 2025
The prompt is #Jerk

Caesar’s Palace, “Jerk It Out” from "Love for the Streets" 2002

This track is utterly, totally derivative of #60s early psychedelia, and utterly, totally perfect, from the swirling #Farfisa #organ out front to those shakers chasing and spicing the beat.

You may know this Swedish band as #Caesars but they originally recorded under the name Caesar’s Palace (with a couple of US releases as The Twelve Caesars).

This track first appeared on their 2002 release Love for the Streets, and they wisely included it on the rebranded band’s ‘debut’ album “Paper Tigers” in 2005, where it’s most widely available (albeit not on the sole vinyl release, nor the Swedish CD).

I knew them first from Paper Tigers, #PowerPop that makes it hard to sit still, with some of their earlier, grittier #GarageRock feel still intact. Whatever the name, wherever you find them, these guys get the job done.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w869Avr_fXI

#2000s #2000sMusic #SwedishRock

#AlternateFridayMusic
May 9 2025
The prompt is #Jerk

Caesar’s Palace, “Jerk It Out” from "Love for the Streets" 2002

This track is utterly, totally derivative of #60s early psychedelia, and utterly, totally perfect, from the swirling #Farfisa #organ out front to those shakers chasing and spicing the beat.

You may know this Swedish band as #Caesars but they originally recorded under the name Caesar’s Palace (with a couple of US releases as The Twelve Caesars).

This track first appeared on their 2002 release Love for the Streets, and they wisely included it on the rebranded band’s ‘debut’ album “Paper Tigers” in 2005, where it’s most widely available (albeit not on the sole vinyl release, nor the Swedish CD).

I knew them first from Paper Tigers, #PowerPop that makes it hard to sit still, with some of their earlier, grittier #GarageRock feel still intact. Whatever the name, wherever you find them, these guys get the job done.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w869Avr_fXI

#2000s #2000sMusic #SwedishRock

Bo Hansson (1943 – 2010)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bo_Hansson

"Sagan Om Ringen / The Lord Of The Rings"
(Charisma 1972)
https://open.spotify.com/album/6GFaXhDeWLt6p3JE5HWmQL?si=Jb3E-WQPQQ2NH7cNre8FVg

#NowListening #music #musique #rock #ProgRock #ProgressiveRock #PsychedelicRock #SwedishRock #ElectronicMusic
#BoHansson

Bo Hansson (1943 – 2010)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bo_Hansson

"Sagan Om Ringen / The Lord Of The Rings"
(Charisma 1972)
https://open.spotify.com/album/6GFaXhDeWLt6p3JE5HWmQL?si=Jb3E-WQPQQ2NH7cNre8FVg

#NowListening #music #musique #rock #ProgRock #ProgressiveRock #PsychedelicRock #SwedishRock #ElectronicMusic
#BoHansson

Bo Hansson (1943 – 2010)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bo_Hansson

"Sagan Om Ringen / The Lord Of The Rings"
(Charisma 1972)
https://open.spotify.com/album/6GFaXhDeWLt6p3JE5HWmQL?si=Jb3E-WQPQQ2NH7cNre8FVg

#NowListening #music #musique #rock #ProgRock #ProgressiveRock #PsychedelicRock #SwedishRock #ElectronicMusic
#BoHansson

Bo Hansson (1943 – 2010)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bo_Hansson

"Sagan Om Ringen / The Lord Of The Rings"
(Charisma 1972)
https://open.spotify.com/album/6GFaXhDeWLt6p3JE5HWmQL?si=Jb3E-WQPQQ2NH7cNre8FVg

#NowListening #music #musique #rock #ProgRock #ProgressiveRock #PsychedelicRock #SwedishRock #ElectronicMusic
#BoHansson

Bo Hansson (1943 – 2010)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bo_Hansson

"Sagan Om Ringen / The Lord Of The Rings"
(Charisma 1972)
https://open.spotify.com/album/6GFaXhDeWLt6p3JE5HWmQL?si=Jb3E-WQPQQ2NH7cNre8FVg

#NowListening #music #musique #rock #ProgRock #ProgressiveRock #PsychedelicRock #SwedishRock #ElectronicMusic
#BoHansson

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#BraveWords
15 Facts About AVATAR (Video)
"Who has the weirdest way to prepare for a show?" "Who is the most active on social media?" The heavy metal 'n' roll, dark, madcap visionaries collectively known as Avatar - vocalist Johannes Eckerström, guitarists Jonas Jarlsby and Tim Öhrström, bassist Henrik Sandelin, and drummer John Alfredsson - sat down with Finland's...

https://bravewords.com/news/15-facts-about-avatar-video

#AvatarFacts #HeavyMetal #SwedishRock #MetalBand

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#BraveWords
15 Facts About AVATAR (Video)
"Who has the weirdest way to prepare for a show?" "Who is the most active on social media?" The heavy metal 'n' roll, dark, madcap visionaries collectively known as Avatar - vocalist Johannes Eckerström, guitarists Jonas Jarlsby and Tim Öhrström, bassist Henrik Sandelin, and drummer John Alfredsson - sat down with Finland's...

https://bravewords.com/news/15-facts-about-avatar-video

#AvatarFacts #HeavyMetal #SwedishRock #MetalBand

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#BraveWords
15 Facts About AVATAR (Video)
"Who has the weirdest way to prepare for a show?" "Who is the most active on social media?" The heavy metal 'n' roll, dark, madcap visionaries collectively known as Avatar - vocalist Johannes Eckerström, guitarists Jonas Jarlsby and Tim Öhrström, bassist Henrik Sandelin, and drummer John Alfredsson - sat down with Finland's...

https://bravewords.com/news/15-facts-about-avatar-video

#AvatarFacts #HeavyMetal #SwedishRock #MetalBand

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#BraveWords
15 Facts About AVATAR (Video)
"Who has the weirdest way to prepare for a show?" "Who is the most active on social media?" The heavy metal 'n' roll, dark, madcap visionaries collectively known as Avatar - vocalist Johannes Eckerström, guitarists Jonas Jarlsby and Tim Öhrström, bassist Henrik Sandelin, and drummer John Alfredsson - sat down with Finland's...

https://bravewords.com/news/15-facts-about-avatar-video

#AvatarFacts #HeavyMetal #SwedishRock #MetalBand

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#BraveWords
15 Facts About AVATAR (Video)
"Who has the weirdest way to prepare for a show?" "Who is the most active on social media?" The heavy metal 'n' roll, dark, madcap visionaries collectively known as Avatar - vocalist Johannes Eckerström, guitarists Jonas Jarlsby and Tim Öhrström, bassist Henrik Sandelin, and drummer John Alfredsson - sat down with Finland's...

https://bravewords.com/news/15-facts-about-avatar-video

#AvatarFacts #HeavyMetal #SwedishRock #MetalBand

NEW post: The Radio Dept. “always a unique, atmospheric sound that is all them - the mix of fuzzy guitars, washes of synth, casually understated vocals.”
We  pick 10 of their best … #indierock #indiepop #indiemusic #swedishrock #swedishpop
https://www.toppermost.co.uk/the-radio-dept/

NEW post: The Radio Dept. “always a unique, atmospheric sound that is all them - the mix of fuzzy guitars, washes of synth, casually understated vocals.”
We  pick 10 of their best … #indierock #indiepop #indiemusic #swedishrock #swedishpop
https://www.toppermost.co.uk/the-radio-dept/

Ghost has a “few songs” written for next album:
#Ghost #GhostTheBand #SwedishRock #SwedishMetal

https://metalinsider.net/news/ghost-has-a-few-songs-written-for-next-album

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalInjection
SLUTAVVERKNING Streams Avant-Punk New Single "Längtans Törst"
It gets weird, and I want more.

https://metalinjection.net/new-music/slutavverkning-streams-avant-punk-new-single-langtans-torst

#Slutavverkning #AvantPunk #LångtansTorst #SwedishRock #NewSingle #InstrumentalRock

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalInjection
SLUTAVVERKNING Streams Avant-Punk New Single "Längtans Törst"
It gets weird, and I want more.

https://metalinjection.net/new-music/slutavverkning-streams-avant-punk-new-single-langtans-torst

#Slutavverkning #AvantPunk #LångtansTorst #SwedishRock #NewSingle #InstrumentalRock

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalInjection
SLUTAVVERKNING Streams Avant-Punk New Single "Längtans Törst"
It gets weird, and I want more.

https://metalinjection.net/new-music/slutavverkning-streams-avant-punk-new-single-langtans-torst

#Slutavverkning #AvantPunk #LångtansTorst #SwedishRock #NewSingle #InstrumentalRock

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalInjection
SLUTAVVERKNING Streams Avant-Punk New Single "Längtans Törst"
It gets weird, and I want more.

https://metalinjection.net/new-music/slutavverkning-streams-avant-punk-new-single-langtans-torst

#Slutavverkning #AvantPunk #LångtansTorst #SwedishRock #NewSingle #InstrumentalRock

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalInjection
SLUTAVVERKNING Streams Avant-Punk New Single "Längtans Törst"
It gets weird, and I want more.

https://metalinjection.net/new-music/slutavverkning-streams-avant-punk-new-single-langtans-torst

#Slutavverkning #AvantPunk #LångtansTorst #SwedishRock #NewSingle #InstrumentalRock

Trād Grās Och Stenar - "Mors Mors" (1972) #NowPlaying #TradGrasOchStenar #SwedishRock #PsychRock #vinyl #vinylrecords @vinylrecords

https://youtu.be/lQ4Tkla4JLc

Trād Grās Och Stenar - "Mors Mors" (1972) #NowPlaying #TradGrasOchStenar #SwedishRock #PsychRock #vinyl #vinylrecords @vinylrecords

https://youtu.be/lQ4Tkla4JLc

Trād Grās Och Stenar - "Mors Mors" (1972) #NowPlaying #TradGrasOchStenar #SwedishRock #PsychRock #vinyl #vinylrecords @vinylrecords

https://youtu.be/lQ4Tkla4JLc