Some bands just click for me instantly. You’ve got that weird Swiss outfit from Lausanne who’ve been blasting through psychedelic desert rock since 2001, and honestly, they deserve way more attention than they get. Monkey3 (sometimes written Monkey 3) aren’t your typical four-piece—they’re building vast instrumental soundscapes that feel like scoring a film nobody’s made yet. Two decades in, they’re still firing on all cylinders, releasing proper albums like 2024’s Welcome To The Machine.
This lot don’t bother with vocals most of the time. Why fuck around with singing when you can just let the riffs do the talking?
Who’s Actually In It
The core lineup’s held together through the bullshit for most of their existence: Boris plays the guitar Walter on drums dB on all sorts of things with keys Jalil is the bass master at the moment
Where They Come From Sonically
They’ll namecheck constantly these: Kyuss, Black Sabbath, and Pink Floyd—which is basically holy trinity status for stoner psych. But they’ve also thrown 35007, Jane’s Addiction, Led Zeppelin, and AC/DC into the mix.
What It Reminds You Of
If you’re trying to pitch Monkey3 to a mate who hasn’t heard them, say this: Samsara Blues Experiment, Karma to Burn and early Kyuss. Long tracks that breathe. Riffs that loop and evolve rather than punch you in the face.
Five Tracks You Need To Know
Alright, here’s where it counts. These are the essential cuts:
My Verdict: If you’ve ever liked anything heavy, psych-adjacent, or just appreciate a band that plays longform instrumental jams without apology, Monkey3 are worth the investment. They’re not chasing trends, they’re not selling out, and they’re still putting out great records.
Post-Metal For People Who Don’t Want To Pretend They Understand It
Let’s get this out the way first: there’s a reason these lot added “the band” to their Facebook page back in 2014. Turns out having the same name as a terrorist organisation doesn’t do wonders for Spotify playlist algorithm, apparently. Still, the actual ISIS—Boston-born, later LA-dwelling—deserve far more attention than whatever news cycle decides to peddle that week.
The Gist
ISIS-The Band formed in 1997 and didn’t call it quits until 2010, with a brief reunion in 2018 that felt more like a proper farewell than anything. They’re generally credited as pioneers of what people now call “post-metal”—which is basically metal for people who think metal got too bogged down in riffs and started forgetting how to write songs. You’d hear Neurosis, Pelican, Cult of Luna thrown around in the same breath.
Here’s who actually played in ISIS-The Band
Aaron Turner – vocals, guitar (also ran Hydra Head Records)
Five studio albums, one consistent lineup, and a sound that managed to be heavy without feeling like it was trying to win some kind of distortion contest.
Why They Work
I used to think post-metal was just noodling with extra reverb. What surprised me was how disciplined ISIS-The Band actually were. Their songs build—they don’t bash you over the head immediately. There’s patience here, which is rare in any genre where “loud” is usually the primary dynamic.
Take Wavering Radiant, their final record from 2009. Four tracks I’m particularly fond of from that album:
The Songs Worth Your Time
1. So Did We Yes, it’s a live track. Yes, it still slaps harder than most bands’ studio efforts.
2. Low Tide From Wavering Radiant. This is the one you play when someone asks “what does post-metal actually sound like?”. Listen on YouTube
3. Dalcinea Another Wavering Radiant cut. Builds from a whisper to a roar without ever losing its thread. Proper satisfying.
4. Friction It’s in the title, innit? Guitar tones clashing with bass frequencies, Turner’s vocals somewhere between sung and spoken. The kind of song that makes you notice the space between notes.
5. Carry Closing out the album. Doesn’t try to reinvent itself in the final stretch—just commits. Sometimes resolution is more powerful than complication.
The Verdict
ISIS-The Band weren’t revolutionary in the sense that they invented new genres overnight. What they did was refine, polish, and execute a sound with genuine conviction. Five albums, no lineup changes, and no desperate pivots to chase trends. That’s integrity in a industry that often treats musicians like disposable content.
They split in 2010. But the catalog’s still there, waiting for anyone who’s tired of metal that’s all aggression and no atmosphere.
I would recommend to anyone who thinks “heavy” doesn’t have to mean “thoughtless”.
Right, let’s get one thing straight: Black Sabbath invented heavy metal. Period. Every other band that followed either copied them or drew inspiration from what those four created out of Birmingham industrial shit scene.
Ozzy Osbourne, Tony Iommi, Geezer Butler, and Bill Ward formed in 1968. Originally called Earth, they renamed themselves after a Boris Karloff film because apparently “Black Sabbath” just hit harder. The lineup shifted over the decades—Ritchie Blackmore briefly, Vinny Appice on drums, various bassists—but Iommi was the constant anchor. That man survived everything.
The Guitar That Shaped Hell
Tony Iommi lost two fingertips in a factory accident young – everybody knows that. Most people quit. He didn’t—he built his own lighter gauge strings, tuned down, and created the heaviest riffing sound ever recorded. His playing style wasn’t technically perfect but it was raw, sludgy, and absolutely punishing. That shit defined doom metal before doom metal had a name.
Geezer’s Dark Lyrics
Geezer Butler wrote most of the lyrics, drawing from horror films, politics, and his own nightmares about religion and fascism. “War Pigs” wasn’t metaphorical—it was (and still is!!!) a middle finger to politicians sending working-class kids to die. His words gave metal intellectual weight while everyone else sang about love. Fucking brilliant.
When Dio Stepped In
Look, I know Ozzy’s the face of Sabbath, but when Ronnie James Dio took vocals in ’79, (IMO) he suited the sound better. His operatic delivery matched Iommi’s riffs perfectly. “Heaven and Hell,” “Mob Rules”—pure metal gold. Ozzy was raw and vulnerable; Dio was powerful and precise. Different vibes, both essential.
January 2024 hit hard. The Prince of Darkness passed at 81. I won’t pretend I’m not gutted—he was the voice of my youth, the guy who screamed through the darkness when I was a teenager figuring shit out. Rest in peace, Ozzy. You earned every damn bit of glory. Respect!
Regrets
Never saw them live. Last tour tickets were fucking prohibitive—at least for my pocket. Prices like that shut out actual fans who grew up buying bootleg cassettes, not collectors with deep pockets. My loss, yeah. But the music lives on anyway.
Secos & Molhados: The Glitter, The Guile, and The Greatest Flash-in-the-Pan Brazil Ever Produced
Some bands burn out. Some fade away. And then there are the ones that detonate like a firework in a dictatorship — bright, brief, and impossible to unsee. Secos & Molhados were the third kind.
Formed in São Paulo in 1971, right in the teeth of Brazil’s military regime, they were the band that turned their rock mix of folk and prog into a political act without ever handing you a manifesto. They wore face paint, stacked heels, and more eyeliner than a Soho pub crawl, and they did it all whilst fusing MPB, fado, folk, psychedelia, and progressive rock into something nobody had quite heard before — or since.
They released two era-defining albums, imploded, and left a crater in Brazilian pop culture that still echoes. That’s not a failure. That’s punk before punk had a name for itself.
The Members
The classic lineup — the one that mattered — was a power trio with a supporting cast:
João Ricardo — founder, main songwriter, acoustic guitarist, and harmonica player. The brains of the operation. He formed the band, wrote most of the songs, and was the only member who stuck around after the first two records. Some people start bands; João Ricardo started a religion with a three-year shelf life.
Ney Matogrosso — vocalist, provocateur, force of nature. The man whose falsetto could shatter glass and whose androgynous stage presence made Bowie look almost understated. He wasn’t just a singer; he was a walking scandal in a country governed by generals. After the band split, he became one of the biggest solo artists in Brazilian history.
Gerson Conrad — vocalist, composer, and second guitarist. The quiet engine of the trio, who co-wrote and co-sang alongside Matogrosso before stepping out of the spotlight post-breakup.
Backing them up were a rotating crew of session hands and guest musicians: John Flavin (guitar), Willy Verdaguer (bass), Marcelo Frias (drums), Sergio Rosadas (flute), plus a special appearance from Zé Rodrix lending pipe organ to the debut.
From 1974 onward, João Ricardo was the sole constant. Various musicians cycled through the later records, but the magic was always the original trio. Nobody pretends otherwise.
Discography
Six studio albums. Two masterpieces. Four curiosities. Here’s the lot:
Year
Album
Label
1973
Secos & Molhados
MCA
1974
Secos & Molhados II
Continental
1978
Secos & Molhados III
Philips
1980
Secos & Molhados IV
Philips
1988
A Volta do Gato Preto
Disco Ban / Polygram
1999
Teatro?
JR
The debut and its sequel are the holy texts. Everything after 1974 is João Ricardo carrying the flame — sometimes brilliantly, sometimes unevenly, but always stubbornly. Calling every album Secos & Molhados for the first four was either the laziest branding in rock history or the most arrogant. Either way, it’s perfect.
There are also live albums, EPs, and numerous compilations floating around — the most notable being O Melhor de Secos & Molhados, which is exactly what it says on the tin and the ideal starting point for newcomers.
Influences
Strip back the glitter and you’ll find a frankly bonkers stew of source material:
Glam rock — David Bowie and Marc Bolan’s T. Rex were the lodestars. The androgyny, the theatricality, the sheer don’t-give-a-damn of it all came straight from the Ziggy Stardust / Electric Warrior playbook.
Tropicália — Os Mutantes blazed the trail for Brazilian psychedelic rock, and Secos & Molhados walked straight down it, albeit in higher heels.
MPB and fado — Brazilian Popular Music and Portuguese folk traditions gave the band a harmonic and melodic vocabulary that British or American glam acts simply didn’t have. The fado influence is particularly audible in the mournful, minor-key ballads.
Experimental, prog and folk music — The band’s stated manifesto was to be open to everything: Latin rhythms, Portuguese folklore, psychedelia, hard rock. They meant it.
The result was something that sounded like Bowie at Carnival — and that’s not a comparison you can apply to many acts.
Similar Bands Around the World
If Secos & Molhados are your gateway drug, here’s where to go next:
In Brazil:
Os Mutantes — The godparents of Brazilian psych-rock. If you haven’t heard them, start with their 1968 self-titled debut and work forward.
Casa das Máquinas — Rougher, more hard-rock-oriented, but cut from the same 70s Brazilian rock cloth.
Around the world:
David Bowie — The obvious touchstone. Early-70s Bowie — Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane — is the closest spiritual relative.
T. Rex — For the strut, the riffs, and the belief that pop music could be both ridiculous and profound.
Slade — For the unabashed, stomping, face-painted rock nonsense that somehow becomes immortal.
Five Essential Songs
Start here. Then disappear down the rabbit hole.
1. Sangue Latino
The opener of the debut album and arguably the band’s signature song.
2. O Vira
A traditional Portuguese folk dance reimagined as glam rock thunder.
3. Rosa de Hiroshima
The centrepiece. Based on a poem by Vinicius de Moraes about the victims of Hiroshima, this is Secos & Molhados at their most haunting and humane. Listen to it here: Rosa de Hiroshima — YouTube
4. Flores Astrais
The standout of the second album. Psychedelic, hypnotic, and gorgeous.
5. Amor
Short, sweet, and sneering in equal measure.
The Aftermath
The original trio lasted barely two years. Two albums. Then Matogrosso walked, Conrad stepped back, and João Ricardo was left holding the name.
But here’s the thing: those two records sold over a million copies. In a military dictatorship. With a lead singer who performed in kaftans and makeup and sang in a register that made conservative Brazilians swallow their tongues. They headlined Carnegie Hall in 1974. They proved that Brazilian rock could be simultaneously experimental, commercial, and politically charged without lecturing anyone.
Ney Matogrosso went on to a legendary solo career that spanned decades and dozens of albums. João Ricardo kept the Secos & Molhados name alive through the 90s. Gerson Conrad largely withdrew from the limelight.
But for one blazing, glorious moment in the early 1970s, they were the most exciting band on the planet — and if you don’t believe me, go and put on Sangue Latino at full volume. You’ll hear it soon enough.
My take on 1000mods – Desert Dust & Amplified Reverie from Corinthian Rock
There exists something rather remarkable about bands hailing from obscure places yet carving out significant space within the global heavy music landscape. Enter 1000mods, stalwarts of stoner and psychedelic hard rock from the rural village of Chiliomodi in Korinthia, southern Greece.
Though sources trace their genesis to 2005, it was summer 2006 when childhood friends solidified into the three-piece force we recognise today.
Nearly two decades on, this Greek powerhouse has become an undeniable staple of the international underground circuit.
Sonic Signature
What distinguishes 1000mods within stoner rock’s crowded terrain is their refusal to settle into mere riff-repetition formulas. Dani G. anchors vocals and bass, Giorgos T. delivers guitar work oscillating between precision and fuzz, and Labros G. drives relentless percussion. Together, they produce a wall of sound considerably larger than three individuals should reasonably achieve.
Essential Listening
Vidage – Their trademark fusion of melodic heaviness with cosmic atmosphere
Low – A masterclass in slow-building tension before eruption
Electric Carve – Perhaps their most recognisable anthem, peak Stoner-era execution
The One That Keeps Me Down – Emotional weight beneath the fuzz
Road to Burn – Live intensity captured in studio form
What should you expect from 1000mods
If your tastes incline towards My Sleeping Karma’s cosmical approach, Truck Fighters’ swagger, Monkey 3’s atmospheric density, or Mothership’s blues-soaked sludge, neglecting 1000mods would be a mistake. Two decades of consistent output and unwavering commitment mark them not merely as participants—but architects shaping the scene’s trajectory.
In short: your speakers will thank you. (your neighbours maybe not so much…)
If you’ve ever wanted to have deep feelings while headbanging, Swedish outfit pg.lost is your sonic prescription. Formed in 2004, this post-rock quartet specialises in the kind of emotionally charged, instrumental soundscapes that make you question whether you’re listening to a symphony or a riot.
From Rebranding to Resonance
Here’s a bit of trivia for your next music quiz: pg.lost wasn’t always called pg.lost. Originally christened Before You Give In, the band endured enough lineup turbulence to make a soap opera look stable. Eventually, they settled on their now-iconic moniker—and wisely stopped changing it every Tuesday.
The Sonic Alchemy
What makes pg.lost so compelling? It’s the friction between beauty and brutality. Their compositions throb with profound melancholy, yet there’s always that dirty rock ‘n’ roll undercurrent lurking beneath the surface.
Their discography showcases this dynamic range beautifully. Versus and Oscillate stand as testament to their ability to balance introspection with sheer sonic force.
pg.lost operates firmly in the post-rock atmosphere alongside Explosions in the Sky, Mono, and Mogwai. But where those bands might lean towards the prog-contemplative, pg.lost brings a distinctly Scandinavian grit to the table.
Put simply: if you enjoy music that makes you feel things you didn’t know you were capable of feeling, pg.lost deserves a permanent place in your playlists.
Long Distance Calling hit my radar way too late in my journey through the instrumental realms of Rock and Metal. Honestly, I still don’t get it—while I was already deep in the RUSH catalog from day one, Long Distance Calling keeps popping up in every “essential prog bands” list in those specialised music mags. How did I miss this?
The Basics: Formed in 2006 in Münster, Germany, Long Distance Calling carved out their own lane in the post-rock landscape. Their sound? Think adventurous post-rock that isn’t afraid to wander into post-metal territory when the mood strikes.
What Makes Them Tick: Here’s the thing—they’re built on extended instrumentals that create atmospheric soundscapes hitting you right in the chest. No filler vocals, just pure sonic architecture.
The Lineage (Some of Their Influences): You can hear the DNA of PORCUPINE TREE, LUNA, and ISIS woven throughout their discography. They’re instrumental, progressive, contemporary—all the descriptors fit. Call it instrumental atmospheric rock, post-metal, or post-rock; whatever label you slap on it, the music speaks for itself.
IMO: For Post-Rock/Metal heads, this is essential listening. Each album carries a central theme that anchors the whole experience. The songwriting is playful, packed with ideas and stylistic shifts. Sometimes they drop samples that make you wonder if you’ve heard them elsewhere—but you can’t quite place them. That mystery is part of the magic.
Bottom line: If you’re into instrumental music that breathes, builds, and blasts, Long Distance Calling deserves a permanent spot in your rotation. Better late than never.
