Sinister Stoner Rock

There is an unnerving, unsettling quality to Dying Surfer Meets His Maker, the latest record from Nashville rockers All Them Witches. A dark seriousness drifts throughout the album, as if it were a soundtrack for a night spent on the wrong drugs, at the wrong parties, with the wrong people. There is a twinge of country and a smidge of roots music with a resonating expansiveness that opens up an entire sonic vista for the listener.

“El Centro” is a massive wall of droning fuzz based on a two note riff that wouldn’t sound out of place scoring the Robin Wright’s failed suicide attempt in Forrest Gump. The guitar solos scream and wail while the backing track twists and turns and swells with intensity. “This is Where it Falls Apart” has the bluesy heavy reverb sound of darker Funkadelic records, and while it doesn’t have Eddie Hazel’s technical proficiency, it occupies a Maggot Brain head space—a place that feels as introspective as it does self destructive yet lacking a cathartic release.

“Open Passages” is remarkably epic for a song that clocks in at a little over three minutes in length; it manages to reach a level of cinematic scope and grandiosity. The guitar lines layered against strings gives a healthy haunting dash of Americana roots flavor. It has the all the right affectations and posturing to be used for the closing credits of a modern day spaghetti western.

Dying Surfer Meets His Maker is a brilliant record but not one to be taken lightly or halfheartedly; it’s not going to yield any chart topping singles or give fodder for next summer’s inescapable dance remix. This is heavy stuff that dives into deep emotional waters, awakening long dormant memories and half forgotten experiences that may have been best left where they laid. It’s an incredible piece of work, but you probably will want to have some time to emotionally readjust after listening before socializing with the masses again.