Here’s a little thing for you to try folks. If you live in the UK, go to Google, type in “Iceland”, and rather than bring up the Nordic country the first few pages of results will actually be to do with the frozen food company, and a slew of adverts featuring comedian Jason Mansfield about their breaded edibles. If you got beyond that, I imagine you’d be hard pressed to name any bands from that nation of not many more than three hundred and fifty thousand human inhabitants beyond Sigur Ros, The Sugar Cubes, and their far more famous “quirky” vocalist Bjork [well unless you listen to Black Metal Ed]. Fortunately, metal and hard rock is all pervasive, and that flag is being vigorously and energetically waved by three piece Volcanova, a band that has bizarrely played shows in Scotland, including a memorable set in the basement of a then closed pub that I attended, and would have bought merch from the band were it not for the speed at which the audience was hustled out of the venue as soon as the last chord faded away (true story).
The bio that the band puts out compares then favourably to Kyuss, re-imagining that US desert act being transplanted through space and time to the chilly tundras of Iceland, but that is frankly to do the band a disservice. From personal experience, their famous forebears never had the immense enthusiasm and joie-de-vivre of Volcanova when I’ve seen them live, and this uninhibited passion seeps into every track of the album. After the stadium awakening bombast of ‘Welcome’ drenched in Iommiesque string bending, the album proper starts with the lo-fi goodness of ‘Where’s The Time?’, a fist pumping, riff shooting number that eschews studio based tricks and traps, and instead captures the live punch of the band that blasted into my ears far too long ago here in Dundee.
Barely drawing breath, ‘Super Duper Van’ hoves into view in a haze of fuzz, telling a tale of space transit and tour travels infused with lashing of sweet THC delivered with the excellent harmonies that belie their comparatively short time together as a unit, and seem to just drip casually yet perfectly formed from the speakers. But not all is a stoner thud, the opening chords of ‘I’m Off’ highlighting their ability to produce subtle introspective Blues inspired experimentation, a fitting if unwitting tribute to the recently lamented Peter Green before the hard rock riffs fire in hard, heavy, and fuzzily delivered with lashings of swagger. By the time their lead single ‘Sushi Sam’ runs into view dragging its flared trousers behind it and flapping its kaftan in the breeze there is no doubt that Volcanova is a band that doesn’t take itself too seriously, the only aim it has being to have fun and entertain rather that instil some deep social message, not that is to in any way belittle their ability to deliver pounding drums, blaring bass, and dirty, fuzzy solos.
‘Mountain’ follows with a bluesy nod, be it unknowing or otherwise, to that late sixties stoner blues act, a sound that fades into the far darker and Prog laden ‘M.O.O.D.’, a mood that I can only assume the band categorised as heavy from the pummelling riffs they deliver by the sludgy spade full. Indeed, by comparison followers ‘Got Game’ and ‘Lights’ are in order upbeat and psychedelic by comparison.
‘Radical Waves’ embraces the term “lo-fi” without being pretentious, recreating Volcanova’s on stage sound with a healthy grunt, and for that they can only be praised. Future UK dates are promised, including postponed shows in my now native Scotland, and if you like this album, which you should, the future shows will only cement your enjoyment of the band.
(8/10 Spenny)
Leave a Reply