Grayscale by Second Gear Grind: A Stoner’s Doom Odyssey
Alright, buckle up, because Grayscale by Second Gear Grind is one of those albums that smacks you upside the head with its gritty charm and refuses to let go. Released back in 2010 from the land of hobbits (New Zealand, yo), this record dives deep into the swampy waters of Doom Metal and Stoner Rock. And let me tell ya—this ain’t your polished, radio-friendly rock album. Nope. This is raw, unfiltered, and kinda smells like someone left their guitar in a damp basement for too long. But hey, that’s what makes it awesome.
Now, I gotta shout out two tracks here: “Black Swan” and “Carpet of Smoke.” These are the ones that burrowed into my brain like an earwig at a heavy metal picnic.
First off, “Black Swan.” Man, this track kicks things off with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the face. The riffs? Chunky as hell. Like, imagine if Black Sabbath had a love child with Kyuss after they shared a joint—it’s THAT good. What sticks with me about this tune is how it lurches forward, dragging you along on this doom-laden joyride. It’s slow, brooding, but somehow still groovy enough to make you nod your head like a dashboard bobblehead. You can practically feel the weight of the world pressing down on each note. Heavy stuff, dude.
Then there’s “Carpet of Smoke,” which sounds exactly like what happens when you burn toast while blasting Sleep at full volume. This track feels thicker than a milkshake made of molasses. The basslines rumble so low, you might think your speakers are gonna give up the ghost halfway through. But don’t worry—they won’t. Probably. Anyway, the song’s got this hypnotic vibe that just pulls you under, like quicksand made of fuzz pedals and existential dread. By the time it ends, you’re left wondering if five minutes passed or fifty. Time doesn’t exist anymore. Welcome to the void, pal.
Oh, and props to Second Gear Grind for self-releasing this beast via Not On Label. DIY spirit for the win! There’s something refreshing about an album that doesn’t pander to trends or try too hard to be cool. Instead, Grayscale wears its influences proudly on its sleeve while carving out its own little corner of heaviness.
So yeah, if you dig music that’s heavier than your ex’s emotional baggage, give Grayscale a spin. Just maybe clear some space beforehand—you know, in case you need to bang your head without knocking over furniture.
Final thought? Listening to this album feels like being trapped in a smoke-filled room where everyone’s arguing about whether Conan the Barbarian could take down Mad Max. Chaotic, kinda gross, but weirdly compelling. Now excuse me while I go find some air freshener…
