Of course it’s no surprise that the new Religious Knives full-length is good. Like Smuckers, if it says Ecstatic Peace on the label, it has to be good. With that said, The Door is still a nice surprise, considering how different it sounds from Resin released earlier this year (though the latter is a collection of older material and some live renditions).

The most noticeable and significant difference between The Door and Religious Knives’ earlier drone trips is that the band, sometime between then and now, got really funky. This is established in the first few seconds of opening brain burner “Downstairs.” If the low end were of a higher tempo, you could easily lay it against a blaxploitation film score. No foolin’.

It’s a strange funkiness too: serious, fluid bass grooves at a slow, steady tempo reinforce the walls of a Loop-meets-Jackie O Motherfucker gale of hazy, foreboding fuzz squall that remains sparse and powerful. Combined this with smoky pipe organ, crystalline chants, and tribal percussion, and Religious Knives whisk you away on a very gnarly (in a good way) magical mystery tour. Religious Knives have also boosted the vocals in the mix and staved off a lot of the usual reverb. This has been a point of contention among a few of the early reviews for The Door, with some critics writing that the prominent vocals showcase a bored, detached quality. To me, though, Religious Knives’ approach to the vocals on this album help separate them from many other artists firmly planted in psychedelia. By making a stern attempt toward a different method of production, as opposed to liberally applying the typical reverb and pan treatment as most artists who make this type of music tend to do, The Door carves out a very distinct niche and yields a rewarding listening experience.

“The Storm,” despite its name, is one of the more subdued moments on The Door, and one of the best. The group makes brilliant use of space – the wide open chasm between measures provide more of a ominous mood than even the most sinister of minor chords. Shortly after “The Storm,” the volume cranks, dense layers of fuzz poke through, and the tempo is upped for The Door’s closing remarks, “Major Score” and “Decisions Are Made,” providing a sharp contrast to the album’s first half and slinging one more surprise your way. Moody and cavernous, The Door is, seriously, best enjoyed with the lights lowered. I know that sounds corny, but it’s true. I understood the album more profoundly in the dark than the daylight.

Though The Door doesn’t necessarily chart new territory, Religious Knives have demonstrated that they can try new directions without straying too far from the general sonic cathedral they’ve built. It’s a hard balance to strike, and one the group has proven they do well, and as such, Religious Knives are certainly a collective to get excited about whenever they release new material. Hopefully, with their newfound home on Ecstatic Peace, that will be often.

If you like what you hear below, go on and grip The Door directly from the label for an extremely reasonable price.

MP3 :::
Religious Knives – The Storm
Religious Knives – Decisions Are Made

I’ve been violently cranking Religious Knives as of late. I saw them once with, I think, Wizzardz (a Lightning Bolt side project). Or maybe it was Zodiac Mountain. I don’t remember. Either way, Religious Knives is boss, and reminds me of one of my forgotten favorites – Loop. More on that in a bit.

Religious Knives‘ latest is called Resin, just released on No Fun with my friends Hair Police. For those who haven’t roomed with pot dealers like I have, resin is the residue left in pipes and bongs after, um, religious marijuana use. I think pothead lexicons are funny, and New York-based Religious Knives makes no bones about what they’re, ya know, about. Or perhaps it’s tongue-in-cheek. You can never tell on paper. Regardless, tune in, turn on, drop out. Hallucinogenic anthems abound.

Loop was a nasty, abominable scourge on the pop-friendly C86 camp in late ’80s Britain. Foul beasts they were, Loop demonstrated their intent to keep music solemnly evil with 1989’s Fade Out. Neither image above is the cover of Fade Out, by the way. The one on the left might be 16 Dreams, which I do not have. There just aren’t a lot of Loop photos floating around.

Lore has it that Spacemen 3 hated them for reasons that remain unclear. They’re often compared to Spacemen 3, but Loop is decidedly closer to Blue Cheer and Hawkwind. They never changed their sound, so all their albums are equally good. I just tend to gravitate toward Fade Out, I guess, because it has the best hooks. Loop albums are extremely difficult to find. I nabbed my burned copy from my college’s radio station about four years ago. Best stoner metal ever recorded, in my not-humble opinion. Loop got off the couch long enough to start a MySpazzz for your soc-networking pleasure.

Since we’re dealing with some evil, sinister psych that you might hear at an Aleister Crowley-hosted dinner party… dude, czech out these skulls. Animated GIFs are awesome. Skulls are awesomer. CRUCIAL!

Throw them horns up.

MP3 :::
Religious Knives – In the Back
Loop – Black Sun
Loop – Fade Out