Release Details

RELEASED ON 4/29/2014
GENRES Doom,Stoner,Psychedelic
  • This album stinks of sweat, brews, and 8 mm smut.


Salem's Pot

...lurar ut dig på prärien

posted on 4/2014   By: Craig Hayes

Weed, Satan, and loud guitars: the perfect trio.

Packing tunes with sticky resin and lacing them with infernal intent has obviously fuelled many a hash high, paranoid low, or bong and brimstone barrage in metal. Spliff-friendly metal has journeyed to the stars, to the furthest reaches of the mind, and toured the pits of damnation too; and it’s a sure bet that Swedish psychedelic doomsters Salem’s Pot have inhaled all those vibes deeply.

Salem’s Pot first shuffled onto the stage in 2012, with the band’s 35-minute Sweeden demo, which packed the pipe with plenty of red-eyed ritual and crude retro fumes. Follow-up, 2013’s Watch Me Kill You / Run the Night, set things ablaze with earthy hippie occultism bubbling in the cauldron.

And now, in 2014, Salem’s Pot harvest their latest wicked crop on ...lurar ut dig på prärien, which features three lengthy songs channelling even more B-grade horror, biker sleaze, and ‘70s-styled wizardry, as band smashes ultra-fuzzed acid-blues into dank, lo-fi doom.

The clue as to what to expect is obviously right there in Salem’s Pot’s name. There’s nothing subtle about that moniker, and as far as statements go, it pretty much nails the band’s sound and aesthetic. Think bare breasted witches dancing round the bonfire at a freak-show jam between Sabbath, Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats, Electric Wizard, and DIY debauchery specialists Ice Dragon. Somewhere in there is the dragging claw of Salem’s Pot, and the band certainly rolls the spooky reverberations up on ...lurar ut dig på prärien to spark a sprawling odyssey of heavy-ass psychedelia.

Album opener, “Creep Purple,” is 14-minute trip through atmospheric Hammer Horror keyboards, raw and feedbacking garage riffs, echoing vocals phasing in and out, and pounding drums. “Dr Death” dives further into the mind-bending realms, with vocals up front (“you’d be lucky to survive”, being the crucial refrain), as circus accordion threads the creeps and chills through the walls of crashing fuzz. “Nothing Hill”, reaches deep down too, right into the territory Electric Wizard has staked out, with a thick, glutinous groove sitting right on the edge of unravelling as drawn-out riffs and screeching solos attempt to cut through the smoke and ash.

I’m sure you’re getting the picture. Salem’s Pot summons the coven, and gets the mists swirling round the stone circles. It all harks back to Ye Olde candlelit traditional doom, reeks of overindulgent ‘60s stoner jams, slathers on the hulking proto-metal too, and brings a fairly meteoric chunk of space-rock’s tripped-out idiosyncrasy.

Obviously, none of those attributes are either fresh or innovative, and we’ve orbited similar psychotropic states with bands like Ramesses, Church of Misery, Orchid or Bongripper. However, what counts in Salem’s Pot favour, is the crypt-bound, ceaseless distortion that ...lurar ut dig på prärien exudes, because the album oozes underworld grime and sounds like everything burst into amplifer-melting flames at any moment.

Tonally, that keeps everything on the right on path—or at least, on the right on left hand path—and ...lurar ut dig på prärien’s grubby and shabby catacomb charm rumbles, grumbles, and grinds with the kind of uber-downtuned and morose alchemy that’ll leave an ugly stain on the heart, and a fierce ringing in the ears. Throw in the band’s lysergic stomp, and brief bursts of frenetic riffing that see the skeletal hand burst from the grave, and you’ve got all the makings of first-rate dirty doom.

Salem’s Pot are clearly on the rise here, crawling from the grave to sit alongside famed purveyors of contemporary psych and doom, like their most obvious inspiration, Electric Wizard. Similar to the ‘Wiz’s fare, ...lurar ut dig på prärien is a trip back in time to a basement bong session, stretched to infinity. This album stinks of sweat, brews, and 8 mm smut. It’s vintage hedonism, and ...lurar ut dig på prärien is all the better for its utterly arcane stench.

Weed, Satan, and loud guitars.

You know the deal.

Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.