Discourse never dies. The commentariat will endlessly rehash debates, if only to distract themselves from the dreariness (or horrors) of reality. One particularly irritating “debate” that refuses to be settled because old has-beens will rekindle it to stay relevant is the idea that “rock is dead.” To that, we can simply say this: shut up, and listen to Sky Valley Mistress.
Six years on from their debut, this Lancastrian duo have returned with Luna Mausoleum. It’s a heavy, fuzzy, spaced-out ode to ’70s rock that manages to look to the future, even with one foot in the past and the other planted firmly in the here and now. Or, as the insert for the CD states, it’s “Hearse Rollin’, Flare Strollin’, Speaker ‘splodin’ Rock and Roll.” All that from just two people.
Some bands with four times as many members would struggle to achieve the electrifying chemistry of the two multi-instrumentalists: Kayley “Hell Kitten” Davies, on vocals and drum-stick duties, and Max “Leather Messiah” Newsome on kick-drum and guitar. Yes, the two of them play the drums, separately but together. Don’t ask why, don’t ask how it works, just sit back and accept that it does.
Because it does work, and brilliantly so. The duo manage to sound bigger than some bands twice their size. Davies’ voice evokes Grace Slick and Lzzy Hale, while Newsome’s guitar leans heavily on Queens of the Stone Age as its main inspiration. No surprises there – Sky Valley Mistress take their band name from Kyuss’ album Welcome to Sky Valley, on which Queens of the Stone Age main-man Josh Homme played lead guitar.
Sky Valley Mistress have also put forward a much more assured album in Luna Mausoleum. Their debut, Faithless Rituals, is a lot of fun, but a touch rougher around the edges, a little fuzzier on the needle. The follow-up is cleaner, tighter, but no less fun, neatly putting to rest the idea of the sophomore album curse. Everything feels bigger this time around too: the tempos are more propulsive, the riffs have more swagger than John Travolta in his finest flares, the drums are heavier, and the speakers are definitely ‘splodin. Just check out ‘No Sleep’ , ‘Live Past Life’, or the colossal ‘Thundertaker’ for proof. The album doesn’t truly slow down until the finale, ‘Blue Desert II’, continuing the concept from their debut. It opens with a languid guitar and organ in the vein of ‘No Quarter’ or ‘Rat Salad’ and doesn’t ramp up until almost a third of the way through its nine-minute runtime.
All of this rock ‘n’ roll attitude extends to the lyrics too. From ‘The Exit List’, we have the thundering chorus that begins “So what does it mean, that sinking feeling? I ain’t wakin’ up, i’m liquid dreaming… you couldn’t find hope in all my meaning, now I’m stood up and you’re still kneeling, at the altar of my cross from where I’m preaching.” Pure poetry that isn’t nearly as deep as it might sound – what could be more rock ‘n’ roll than that?
It’s a riot of an album, in short. If rock music is dead, Luna Mausoleum has brought it back to life. If second albums struggle to be successful, Lunar Mausoleum has not so much cleared as obliterated that hurdle. And if this is how they continue from here on out, then long may the sun shine on Sky Valley Mistress.
