Pitchfork Review
When Brooklyn indie pop fixture Frankie Rose first went solo in 2009, she was backed by a relatively anonymous trio called the Outs-- bassist Caroline Yes, guitarist Margot Bianca, and drummer Kate Ryan. On Frankie Rose and the Outs, the quartet toyed with harmonious, dreamlike haze and snappy sugar-coated melodies of the Spectorian persuasion. Rose has since moved on, crafting wider-screen synth pop on 2012's Interstellar-- dropping "the Outs" and recruiting a different band to flesh out the new aesthetic.
The former Outs, meanwhile, have made a complete 180, regrouping as a black-hearted power trio called FLOWN. Making self-described "witch metal", they cite an array of doom, sludge, and riot grrrl influences from Sabbath to Sleep to Sleater-Kinney, while working an occultish bent via explorations in "tarot, astronomy, and the unconscious." Their melding of thick stoner metal riffs and soaring melodies seems to share a kindred spirit with Montreal's Yamantaka // Sonic Titan. But where those Canadian art schoolers distinguish themselves with pronounced Eastern inflections, FLOWN has got dark, guttural, deathlike screams.
For now, perhaps the only Brooklyn band laying claim to the witch-metal title is three piece outfit FLOWN. The sonic coven of Margot Bianca, Kate Ryan, and Caroline Yes might be recognizable in a past life as the Outs to erstwhile garagester Frankie Rose.
Their debut 7" is a cymbal-crashing nod to both stoner doom and riot grrrl--an unlikely combination that satisfactorily mixes death growls and soaring arena guitars with earnest vocals. Each record is a handmade package, and includes a silkscreened jacket, vellum obi (which sounds like a magical potion ingredient), and risographed insert (has magical properties for print fetishists). Hecate, triple goddess of the crossroads and guardian of the liminal spaces between life and death (aka Brooklyn?), graces the cover in an etching by Mexico City-based artist Santiago Armengod.
First pressing is limited to 500 copies and is available here.
Brooklyn power trio Flown are creeping out of the woodwork with a heavy, caustic resin of bluesy rock, sludge, metal and post-punk, presenting a music that seems to be equal parts Ut and Black Sabbath. Consisting of guitarist Margot Bianca, bassist Caroline Yes, and drummer Kate Ryan (all sharing vocals), Flown have followed up a physically out-of-print cassette (20 copies – yipes) with a strong seven-inch containing two pieces, “Eyes of God” and “Yearlong Eclipse.” All of this music is also available online, so if you miss out on objects, fret not. The single is beautifully packaged in a tricolor silkscreened folder jacket with a vellum obi strip and an attractive insert.
One can hear the flinty merger of riot grrrl punk and hard psych in the flat-out motor that begins “Eyes of God,” which quickly shifts into pounding sludge with folksy harmonies, banshee wails and bilious distorted vocals in a strange intertwine. Headbanging is pretty much the only appropriate response as the three chant and pound away before returning to a close of Slant 6-like angularity. “Yearlong Eclipse” lilts and shouts along with sinewy, contorted blues-rock moves, enchanting voices theatrically undercut by stomach-churning grit and a murderous abrasion. While certainly a band to experience in the flesh if possible, Flown’s eponymous 45 brilliantly captures their menace, beauty and coiled energy.
