I’m not going to lie when this band first hit my radar, I was already half sold without hearing a note of music for two reasons. One the band name was either the most stoner rock name ever or a total piss take (either was a master stroke) and they rocked bigger bellbottoms than me (an almost superhuman feat!).
Consisting of Alex Baumann (Guitar/Vocals) and Anthony Dreyer (Drums) the debut album Abominable (2017) quickly sold out and is highly sought after by doom hounds. Packed with both heaviness and riffs galore. The future looked bright and then they had a major falling out and it descended into ugliness with both Baumann and Dreyer taking legal action over the rights of the name. Baumann retained the name and Dreyer returned with a disappointing new duo Twin Wizard. That seemed to be that another great band releasing one great album before imploding.
Roll forward to 2022. Baumann has recruited Rockwell Heim (what a name!!) and emerged with a new album Primordial. Kicking off with the instrumental title track with a guitar tone so filthy you may need a shower after. Second track Ancient Nug continues with a grinding pace that hits the pedal around 2.09 in. If you’re not nodding your head or tapping your foot along in appreciation at this point, may I suggest taking a trip to the coroner as you may be legally dead.
The album rolls along in this vein with dirty, heavy riff after riff, great drumming by Heim, and shouted vocals by Baumann. It’s not too dissimilar to Prong’s Tommy Victor’s primal howl A short guitar freak-out called Light in a dying world serves as an intermission before side B kicks in if you’re listing on vinyl (and if you’re not have a serious word with yourself. This music was meant to be heard on a turntable at full volume)
Beast kicks Side B off with more monstrous riffing. You won’t find any deep introspection or soul searching here, no social commentary or poetic musings. Titles such as “Toke Wizard” and “Stoned Ape Theory” pretty much tell you what to expect. Musically rooted in the 70’s and unapologetic about it. This isn’t to say they are mere Sabbath copyists like so many others who channel 1973 forever. They have enough riffs to fill several albums and the songs are heavy as hell and memorable enough to stick with you after the album grinds to a halt with Cult of the Yeti.
Five years is a long time to be absent, but The Yeti has returned from extinction and delivers a stomping set of beer drinking and hell raising music played for the pure joy of rocking out.
Sometimes that is all you need!
-Bobo Coen
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