Tetra

In search of yet further stoner/doom metal engulfment drawing on a mixture of hefty, hard-driven instrumentation and laconic, low ranged, portly vocalization, stumbled upon Milwaukee's Shogun, a more or less half-decade old quartet comprised of Ahab's Ghost front man Joe Widen and solo guitarist Sam Wallman, alongside said stocky-as-a-freight-of-mules battery in ex-VEGA bassist Max Muenchow and drummer Alvin Vega (likely procreater of such fellow genre adept).

Following 2016 single and eponymous EP, as well as vague and unheralded duo of full-lengths in 2018 and 2020, the Wisconsin work horse turned out Tetra at the beginning of May, a far cry from Curse, Ahab's Ghost's sonic slam-basher of a sophomore, but still potent, fermented brew of indelibly jarring, paleolithic rhythms tempered by Widen's thickly slung, pseudo-country, wanly locomotive delivery (which so won me over the first time around, both here and yonder).

The opening pair of heavy swingers, "Gravitas" and "Buddha's Palm/Aviary" classically expose the formation's lofty penchant for expansive bass-drum and bass activity, with the latter commencing to tune of a two ton, grinding guitar riff, as well as table and teeth clattering momentum sure to compel several bong levitated returns. The "Aviary" part plays out as expected; namely, a slow and mystical, reverse cymbal wash and chimes type of deal, soon enough yielding "Disintegrate", the briefest song at a World quaking, downwind and pummelling three minutes.

It's a pity it doesn't last longer, as the ten-and-a-quarter minute, mid-point dirge "Delta" (featuring, at times, Southerly, Bobby Liebling-ish ramblings), along with cleanly progressive "Gone Forever", both take the cosmic wind, but not the piss, out of Shogun's eight-track, vinyl conducive duration. In fairness, though, this placid break, including former's gently lulling and peaceful, Lynyrd Skynyrd-like climes, makes for a relaxed change of mood, however prematurely. In other words, these lasts should have closed the album out, as opposed to stalling it amidst fully blown, more engaging, rocking pace.

Bringing Shogun's shotgun riding Tetra (non Pak) to a wholly redeemed level of fast-paced, bluesy swagger is succeeding triad of cuts in "Axiom" (a 70s era evoke-r, a la Hawkwind meets Traffic), "Vertex/Universal Pain Center" - my top crow highlight, despite, or perhaps due to, its cumbersome title (at any rate, it's the one track closest to Ahab Ghost fare) - and seven minute, trudging finale, "Maximum Ray", which, aside from bringing to broiled mind an Atlantic City hustler or pimp's alias, resorts to wacky, "out there" effects, its lot nearing psych rock territory.

While not quite as revealing as Joe's primary venture, Shogun is worthy of stone(d)-face visitation, all the same.