Doom Side of the Moon

Imagine the pristine, clinical space-rock of Pink Floyd being dragged through a swamp in Austin, Texas. This is music that takes the familiar melodies of the 1970s and coats them in a thick layer of down-tuned fuzz and stoner-metal grit. It retains the sprawling, cosmic ambition of the original compositions but replaces the polite British reserve with a muscular, American doom sensibility. It feels like a massive, slow-moving celestial body crashing into a mountain of amplifiers.

What makes this project distinctive is the way it balances reverence with sonic violence. The inclusion of a saxophone adds a soulful, almost noir-like quality that cuts through the wall of distorted guitars, while the drumming leans into a heavy, swinging pocket that the original never quite touched. It is a masterclass in how to cover a legendary album by fundamentally changing its DNA without losing its soul. The textures are thick, the tempos are punishingly deliberate, and the atmosphere is perpetually hazy.

Start with their self-titled debut, specifically the track 'Money'. It serves as the perfect litmus test: if you enjoy the way that iconic 7/4 bassline sounds when it is played through a stack of Orange amps with the gain turned to ten, you are in the right place. It is a gateway drug for classic rock fans into the world of doom metal, and a satisfyingly heavy diversion for metalheads who grew up on their parents' record collections.