Wanted: Outlaws to begin immediately - Outrun the cops for the second time with the Heavy Eyes - IN SEARCH OF SPACE #138

The beast is loose again. Down the bland highway of samey predictability, stacked gridlock of all the latest polished boring useless spiritual faux-rock come the modern highwaymen and outlaws; blasting down the white of the centre line with wind-burned eyeballs and reckless disregard, astride a growling iron horse spitting fire from chromed nostrils and bucking with impatient rage, longing for the open road. It’s the Heavy Eyes! The thousand carat headline act, smashing wingmirrors, scraping wings and stealing watches off idle wrists of gridlocked boredom at ninety miles an hour; not caring about green or red signals; running fast and heavy looking for an unpolluted section of road so they can set the bull loose. Stopping at any old place provoking fear and curtain twitching as they stagger and fight with jagged broken whisky bottles. Not caring, not caring about anything at all. Leaving broken windows, broken eardrums and broken hearts in every staggered desert town. Running free on the blistered blacktop because all the people with the power to bring the hammer down would never believe what just happened, and who is speeding out of town. It’s the hottest name in underground blues music; and their new album winged itself to us through the intergalactic airwaves and it’s been on permanent spin ever since.

So what’s new? Well, not a whole lot, if you only catch this rollicking fast-burn through your sleepy town with furtive looks ‘tween the curtains; it’d look like much the same beer-bottle brawl as before. ‘Cept as the devoted servants of the rock and roll revolution and devout worshippers at the altar of the Great Magnet with the impending apocalypse we’re honourbound to take a gruesome ruffian knifefight and make sense of it. The new album is crucially louder, prouder, groovier, heavier and more wholly rounded than the debut (and we freaking loved the debut). Guitars have been upgraded from the sub-Hendrix Cheerisms into a territory approaching genuinely thundering. It’s a subtle change, but hints at almost oceanic depth and real richness. Drums have been turned into tribal ritualistic hammerings on vast tablets of stone, leather sheets strung taut between trees and cymbals akin to ancient temple gongs. The bass is the sound of an amp on white noise and full volume sinking into a vat of lava.


The Heavy Eyes, picture c/o the Portmanteau
This’ll probs be the last one of these things of the year, standard ones anyhow. We’ve got a few Christmas presents and then a coupla end-‘o-year list thingummies, and this is an album from 2013 we’ve been graciously shown a mite early. It’s been a year of fire-breathing sheer rock and roll self-destruction. None of the ‘best ofs’ of 2010 or 2011 would get a look-in on this year’s list and this is the first release we’ve absorbed from the future space year to come and lemme tell y’all as someone who spends his time looking over the rock and roll landscape making rough maps, it’s looking better than ever. We’ve also got Paul Weller (of extremely influential Heads fame) dropping a new record which I can safely say we love; 2013, though still afar (at time of writing) is already looking mighty fine. Now pucker up, because after dropping this the Heavy Eyes hit the road again, astride the chrome and leather iron-wrought beast, hell damned for the horizon, looking for excitement, looking for a drink, looking for it. The rock and roll underground has never been in such irresponsible hands, perched atop a road-worn Harley with tired wheels and running on fumes and as you inhale the smell of the tarmac and hear the distant wail of sirens, knowing not where your bed tonight is going to be, or where the next drink is coming from; and as the world looks on at us we know we’re all going to be just fine. All us people, going wild, stoned on dreams of the rock and roll apocalypse, wild, by god! And with no law to stop them!

Maera hasn’t dropped yet, expect a Jan 2013 release. Keep it dialled to their Bandcamp for all the latest goodies, all the old goodies too and tons of free goodies. Don’t say we ain’t all good to ‘cha.

Written under duress by Steven.

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