Almost everything about Chingalera’s debut release In The Shadow Of The Black Palm Tree was ill-judged. It was a muddily-produced collection of directionless dirges, with unwieldy song lengths, tuneless vocals and the kind of flagrant Melvins worship that wasn‘t fit to touch the hem of Buzz Osbourne‘s mumu. So you can imagine the trepidation I felt before listening to their follow-up album.
Dose is an entirely more serious proposition. It sounds like a completely different band than the one that tortured eardrums previously, infinitely more adventurous and exciting than anything on the band’s debut disc. It’s the kind of ten-minute track that races by, the sort that would entrance you with its propulsive power in a live setting. Similar in scope and intention is “Eveler” (the title is a nod to band idol Evel Knievel), a riff heavy ode with an astonishingly dense second act that brings to mind modern melodic sludge miscreants Torche.
In a refreshing progression, Chingalera’s music is now multi-faceted and exploratory. Songs are no longer one-riff dirges, instead they grow and develop gradually. A key example of their newfound sense of adventure and songwriting suss is “Fake Maria“. Full of the kind of head-nodding guitar workouts and a dust-spitting vocal performance from Dave Gibney that defines modern stoner rock, it gains points for originality with the inclusion of a dub-influenced middle section, culminating ultimately in a psychedelic wig-out straight out of 1969. ‘A thing of beauty is a joy forever’ are the key lyrics, and it’s this search for beauty amidst the claustrophobic mire that make Chingalera’s next musical steps an interesting prospect.
Unfortunately the album is not without fault, as the Los Angeles trio return to their avant-garde and completely stilted past on the second track, the woeful and almost album-destroying “You Were Happy When You Came In Here“. The title is apt, as the joyful exuberance of “The Endless Bummer” is replaced by one of the most turgid noise recordings ever committed to tape. It’s a bottomless well of pretentious nihilism from which any album would struggle to recover, a kind of self-sabotage that is baffling in its inclusion. Its sixteen and a half minute lifespan is soul-sapping.
Thankfully, by the time closing number “Twenty Three” rolls around the abomination that masquerades as the second track is all but forgotten (if not forgiven), with guest vocals from the likes of Keith Morris (Circle Jerks), Pete Stahl (Goatsnake) and Eddie Solis (It’s Casual) applied to a sinewy guitar-line and tribal drums. Think of a particularly apocalyptic and pissed off Queens Of The Stone Age number and you’re on the right road, although it does overstay it’s welcome somewhat.
As far as escaping your past and expanding your musical horizons goes, Dose is a step in the right direction for Chingalera. Where once they seemed content to be just another stoner band in awe of their influences, they’re now an exciting act eager to explore the possibilities of their idiom. While they’re not quite the finished article yet, there is potential for them to produce something truly excellent in the future. Let’s hope they leave the cacophonous noise off the next one though, eh.
-Peter Brennan