At times Concrescence comes across as a sort of extremely heavy Fairport; albeit with someone giving Dave Swarbrick a double headed axe to play with.
Take note, the label Gonga's new LP is on is called Tonehenge. Whilst that shouldn't strictly influence anything I write about this LP, it will. I mean, Tonehenge. The label's BOUND to be run by Heads, it must be... You know, top people with their heads screwed on, drinking mead, all that kinda shizzle.
And you know what? First impressions are often the best ones. Gut feeling is proved right as we get five slabs of growling sludgy rock to chew on, with the opener Miasma only bothering to lift itself from a self-imposed slough of despond four minutes in. When it does get its kecks on and rocks out it reveals itself to be some beast; revving up a whole host of low tones and grumbling licks in the lower register. A whole set of riffs get explored and worked out on this record, some quite perky (as in the mercurial Tungsten Gold and Calumet Altar) some tough and reflective (Solar Maximum) and some with their nose firmly in the trough as with the sludgefest that's kicked up in Mount Gonga.
There's a folk rock vibe to this record as well, sometimes - especially with Another Day Gone - there's a pastoral skip smuggled in amongst all the axle grease. At times Concrescence comes across as a sort of extremely heavy Fairport; albeit with someone giving Dave Swarbrick a double headed axe to play with. And whisper it but the arpeggios in Calumet Altar getting close (however fleetingly) to a muddy take on Page's more fol de roy moments. Fave track on here, though, is Tungsten Gold which reveals itself to be a whole other ballgame, ridiculously monolithic (despite its breezy nature) and primarily (on some deep, primeval level) concerned with getting the fluff out of its own navel.