Cards on the table time folks; despite being supposedly “knowledgeable of” and “in tune with” the current stoner sound, an impression apparently formed by those who have met me, but are not close to me, I’m no oracle of the scene. Yet by virtue of the fact that I am long of hair, mellow of temperament, and a child of the sixties, something I had no control over as it was just when my parents bumped ugly bits, there is an assumption that I am some sort of hippy music guru. Sadly that is not correct, and there are a whole host of stoner bands I’ve never heard of; indeed the subject of this review is just one such example of that scene. Please don’t take this as a negative dig, rather just a reflection of the abundance of such acts, as in between tapping out words for this review, bolstered by their enthusiastic sound, I am already clicking on purchases of the back catalogue of Temple of Deimos.
Genoan stoners Temple of Deimos, despite having a name that sounds like either a low budget post Hammer European horror movie starring Donald Pleasence, or indeed a Tom Baker era Doctor Who adventure, are in fact a modern Italian stoner three piece who are clearly and totally enthralled by the transatlantic desert scene that latter day titans such as Kyuss strolled through in a chemical haze back in the day. Opener ‘Deadly Lines’ leans heavily on distorted guitars to mix with dreamily delivered lyrics, the laissez faire vocals a merging dreamily into the lazy sprint of the riffs. Follow up ‘Deflagration Deal’ lends a chunky beat to the mix, whilst follow up ‘Bad Time Choices’ slows the pace to a dreaming slumbering meander, vocals, bass, drums and guitar being filtered through a distorted, fuzzy blanket of THC smoke. If the mission of the band to infuse every note with a certain herbal goodness was not so far apparent, they hammer their message home with all the subtlety of a thrusting rhinestone clad crotch care of ‘Elvis Aaron Stoner’, a herbal anthem that totters into the blurred staggering follow up of ‘Saint Reaper Waltz’; trust me, Temple of Deimos do not hide their desires and influences below a host of subtle references, and in this pseudo-title track, their dedication to imbibing the sweet leaf is never more obvious.
‘Melancholia’ follows, and in stark contrast to the title, the galloping guitars demand an energetic following of shaken necks, a stomper that bleeds unabated into the bluff and bluster of ‘Charlie Song (Thirteen Times Yeah)’, any vague subtlety that the band may have hinted at being stamped flat below the throbbing motorbike beats of the track that reflect the muscle car theme of the album cover, a petrol burning blast that leaks into every note of follow up ‘Gianni’. Fear not though Weedians, album closer ‘Yawning Girl’ is a direct desert based tribute to an unavoidable influence on their sound care of veterans Yawning Man; vocals are eschewed in favour of trance like sludgy riffs, every note infused with a heavy dose of peyote.
With ‘Heading To Saint Reaper’ Temple of Deimos stand up loud and proud, and offer a European alternative to imported US fuzz, and for that they can only be commended. What I need now is to experience their sound live, and I will be keeping a blurry eye out for tour announcements, and I suggest you do the same.
(7.5/10 Spenny)
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