Yesod: The Pure Intelligence

Within the multitudinous volumes of pure nothingness separating the disparate particles of physical reality, there exists a medium. A medium not of rational science or ecstatic spiritualism, nor of any other mode of sentient thought, yet surrounding all and becoming, by way of pure reflection. This aether of the vacuum emanates from the victorious love of Netsach and the mercurial force of Hod as Yesod, the Astral Light. A realm of pure change and stability and thus the very soul of dynamic equilibrium, Yesod provides the foundation upon which the physical world rests. Yet the colors and sounds, the entire spectrum of quantum possibilities, refract through Yesod's surface in strange ways, bending at impossible angles, vibrating in cacophonous modes, and oscillating at imaginary frequencies. As the moon reflects the light of the sun, Yesod reflects conscious existence and the perceived stability of sensual reality. Of this world and not, explored by mystics, psychonauts, and the insane, Yesod shimmers in the potentiality of everything.

The binary core of the Sungod sound-ship has spent the past terrestrial cycle exploring this dimension of energetic flow and generative emptiness. Stripped of all satellites, the duo traveled further into the reaches of their collective inner space than ever before. In the abstracting passages through strange corridors of the astral plane, the known forms of Sungod's solar musick were expanded, enhanced, and distorted into rituals of unexplainable origin and often terrifying power. Interstellar islands of teutonic psychedelia surrounded by nebulous seas of droning experimentalism, for the duo's familiar magickal method expanded into transcendent twilit sessions of improvised delirium. Drug-state instant compositions melding with spherical explorations of kosmische singularity; atonal mesmer shimmering around cores of riffing fire. These revelatory experiences were documented upon magnetic tape and edited into a non-linear and continuous exposition of Yesod's vacuous vortex. Disparate threads woven together in a five moment suite of universal adoration and cosmic exaltation.

And so we present Sungod's Crash Galactic. Ethereal Mother Tapes has graciously pressed this excessive wandering into the post-modern abyss. Though we've been spiritually aligned for many, many years, this marks the first collision between the Rainbow Bridge and Ethereal Mother bio-ships. One hundred stereo compact discs imprison seventy minutes of digitized wave fronts, and reside in a DVD style amaray sleeve. A full color and hand numbered insert contains release information and a declaration of artistic intent.

Crash Galactic also marks Sungod's third collaboration with visual artist Justin Grove. His exceptional work has previously decorated our First Matter LP and Cuts from the Ether CS. The Crash Galactic spread seems his most powerful yet. A seamless expanse of cool atmospherics, blinding spiritualist white light, and stardust fields of gloomy murk.

Movement I:

1. Constellation of Ions

2. Breechclout

3. Bounded Hessians

A gentle static hiss emerges from the electromagnetic vacuum as rolling waves of six string ambiance crash gently upon a primordial shore. Warbly, woozy synth patterns invert the threads of reality and mystical wind instruments dance in a physical sea of soothing hypnotism. Opiated bop percussion and horror-themed bass pulses take control, driving the body of sound into subtle spheres of grandeur as simulated horn swells speak to a heavenly symphony. As the rhythm suddenly departs, space age drones decay into a primitive wall of harmonium flame. Decrepit laser beams signal a crumbling spaghetti western crawl, as emotive and increasingly engaging acoustic guitar scratches lines into the sun-baked desert sand. Amid the atonal fallout of a nuclear Moog-cloud, robotic pulses pull the brain across the stereo spectrum, until a sudden crash of propulsive drumming tears into an instrumental kraut-pop romp. Liquid slide guitars glide over descending synth melodies and jangly strumming; trap-kit soaring into the sky. A pause...alien snickering and in-fading analog percolations...explode into melancholic arcs of electro-slide, four-four power, and atmospheres of bubbling electronics.

Braden Balentine: Electric Guitar, Recorder, SCI Six-Trak, Harmonium, Acoustic Guitar, Slide, Echo
Mike Sharp: SCI Six-Trak, Electric Guitar, Drums, Acoustic Guitar, Moog Opus 3

Movement II:
4. There's Hell in That Girl
5. Haze Stations
6. Days of Amnesia

Lazy, hazy strumming and shambolic clanging metal; a dust-caked, whiskey soaked improvised blues exploration. Ever circling a structure, yet seeking never to find it, the six-stringer claws a way towards peace over a sea of bells and achingly beautiful saloon piano. Amidst the wandering American twilight, surprising moments of clarity emerge as the guitar and piano sing together a mourning for something lost. The sun sets and the sky washes over with an unnatural fog of echo-bathed sequencing. Full bodied and blissful electric strumming controls a flow towards euphoric landscapes of gentle intoxication. Twinkling piano emerges, playing with and against the blue glow of guitar ambiance. Kinetic and subdued free-jazz percussion oozes into the sound field, mesmerizing the senses with endless motion. The end an echo-rift, sudden absence giving birth to noise squalls of feedback fury. Distorto-phased riffadelics into the heart of the cave-mind, pounding the Earth with percussive fury. Wah-Wah theatrics explode over psycho-vocalizations, warping into an endless climb across level ground.

Braden Balentine: Sleigh Bells, Noah Bells, SCI Six-Trak, Moog Opus 3, Piano, Electric Guitar, Wah-Wah, Fuzz, Echo
Mike Sharp: Acoustic Guitar, Piano, Whiskey, Electric Guitar, Drums, Fuzz, Shakers, Voice

Movement III:
7. Inda's Net and Bell's Theorem

Wake into asteroid caverns in the deepest space, torturous liquid dropping from the inner surfaces of skulls. Disembodied spirits discuss the purpose of thought, language, love...a cruel colloquy amidst the alien solitude. Synth-spirits condense into solid forms of abstract terror. Piano-mallet malevolence growing under increasingly discordant screams across a black sky. Climbing arpeggiated madness in the fight against undulating waves of dissonant drone-walls, waning to a buzzing coda of hyperborean stillness.

Braden Balentine: Samples, SCI Six-Trak, Moog Opus 3
Mike Sharp: Piano

Movement IV:
8. Shimmering Light (Pure Religion)
9. Crash Galactic
10. The Infinite Regress

A vaporous expanse of lo-fi sequencing; a future-scape in the gardens of pharaohs. Echoing guitar runs and picturesque piano phrases under diaphanous veils of reverb murmur, the whole stream flowing over a reversal of itself, stabbing the surface with time-lag contradictions. A hypnotic sway into the beauty of  galactic genesis, fading away into percussive bolts of squelching square wave flux. Crowd chattering amidst buried synthetic orchestration and bending pulsations of electro-guitar skitter. Ascendent streaks of radiant strings and eddying sci-fi oscillations merge with turbulent walls of fuzz destruction and pulsar beam canons. Mutating loops of analog electronics fade into a slumbering, smoldering core of dark strength. As twin guitars circle the singularity in so many spirals, sapphire swathes of futuristic synths bring a climb towards cohesion. Drums and strums emerge to guide the various echoes into a march towards the stars, howling into a roaring cascade of massive rock fury. Organ screaming, unhinged drum smashing over rippling fuzz walls. Solar flare eruption as fuzz-fried leads climb with abandon, setting ablaze the corridors of the mind.

Braden Balentine: SCI Six-Trak, Moog Opus 3, Electric Guitar, Echo, Fuzz
Mike Sharp: Piano, Electric Guitar, Moog Opus 3, SCI Six-Trak, Acoustic Guitar, Drums

Movement V:
11. Reggie's Best Phosphate
12. Ion Ecstacy

The dying breaths of some wooden beast, the portentous footsteps of a doomed gigantic sentience. Bells rattle and clammer over soul-shaking low end thunder and wheezing walls of reedy ambiance. Breath fades away into radial streaks of metallic singing; into the prayers of metal concavity. Creeping piano chords underly a haunted choir of Appalachian spirits, until the tranquil, smoldering embers flash into a deep wall of organic iridescence. Tibetan bowls sing over lysergic pads of escalating astral warmth and harmonium pyramids glowing in Moog starlight, fading into the emptiness of silence.

Braden Balentine: Piano, Sleigh Bells, Harmonium, Prayer Bowl
Mike Sharp: Harmonium, Prayer Bowl, Voice, SCI Six-Trak, Moog Opus 3

Portals of Acquisition:
Sungod Bandcamp (Digital Streaming/Download)
Ethereal Mother Tapes (CD now sold out, digital streaming available)
Aquarius Records (CD Sold Out)
Norman Records (CD Sold Out)
Midheaven Mailorders (CD)
Clear Spot (CD)
The Archipelago Rises (CD)

Reviews:

"We've been meaning to review something from these Texan psychedelic space-kraut heavies for ages now, this one is as good a place to start as any, their latest, a super limited cd-r that finds Sungod traveling the astral plane, and offering up a pretty fair (and extremely varied) sampling of what these guys are capable of, their sound all over the map, but all held together by an underlying kosmische drift, the opener, is a hushed brooding slow build, that wreaths subtle low end shimmer, in clouds of swirling space-aged blips and bloops, total planetarium show trip out, until part way through, when the drums come in, transforming the sound into something much more dense and driving, but still plenty abstract. The second track is a lush expanse of harmonium like drones, pulsing beneath swirling FX and acoustic guitar Appalachia, haunting and meditative, before slipping into the next track, a swirling retro synth groove that would sit pretty perfectly alongside the current crop of retro futuristic synth wranglers. Krautrocky and cosmic!

The sound shifts dramatically after that, a sort of slow slithery acoustic blues, all slippery slide, laced with piano, and peppered with empty tin can percussion, which gives way to a heady slab of pulsating spaced out synthscapery, all droney, and Necks-like with skittery free jazz drumming, and delicate piano, under clouds of swirling synths, and from there on out, all bets are off, the band slipping easily from super distorted fuzzy kraut flecked garagerock groove, to super abstract collaged ambience, to blown out blissed out freeform noise, to heavy Hawkwind style spacerock freakout, to hazy, druggy musique concrete, to heavy cosmic synthdrone mesmer."

(Aquarius)

"Aha. Something cosmic for my ears. Nice! I never heard the cassette by these guys on Expo 70’s label that came out a while back but rest assured I wanted to. After a quick scan on the site I can see our Mike heard it and reviewed it! Well here’s a new CD that’s just landed courtesy of Patrick Park aka Kosmonaut on his Ethereal Mother Tapes imprint. As you’d expect it’s ludicrously limited to 100 copies and it comes in a DVD style case.
So on this CD you get 70 minutes of krauty kosmische-style dronings with some nice repeato kraut rhythms, some stonking psychedelic riffy rock, some jazz, some ambience, some blues and more than likely some other things I’m too lazy to think of/list. It’s a funny one as there are so many genres touched on here you’d think it wouldn’t work. The chuggy krauty rhythms of ‘Bounded Hessians’ go straight into a blues laden ‘There’s Hell In That Girl’ complete with tinkly sleigh bells and piano. The latter is a gorgeous piece of music by the way. And then before you know it there’s acoustic guitar and cosmic synth sounds. So if you’re into cosmic things then this would be an excellent thing to pick up."

(Norman)

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We have removed the price requirement on Cuts From the Ether, so feel free to download this at no cost. In other news, we have completed mixing and received the artwork and master for the follow up to Crash Galactic. More information on that in the future. Otherwise, we continue mixing on the next LP (tentative) and as always, working on new material.

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The thirty spokes join in their nave, that is one; yet the wheel dependeth for use upon the hollow place for the axle. Clay is shapen to make vessels; but the contained space is what is useful. Matter is therefore of use only to mark the limits of the Space which is the thing of real value.