Year Of Metal #037: Kyuss - Welcome To Sky Valley
This isn’t my first time listening to Kyuss, and nor is it my first time having the feeling that, by all rights, I should be liking this a little bit more than I actually do. At their best, I like Queens Of The Stone Age a lot (founder Josh Homme is just two years away from sacking off Kyuss in their favour at the time of this record’s release in 1994), and the whole stoner rock vibe I find mighty appealing.
I suppose my primary complaint is that Welcome To Sky Valley often doesn’t sound all that great. Stick on opener “Gardenia” and you’re met with a big, sticky, downtuned riff that scrapes along slowly and some crashing drums as expected, but the sound quality isn’t quite there. Everything’s a bit distant, a bit dusty - for the first 45 seconds or so I wondered if it was all going to kick up a gear sonically speaking, but it never does. The record was released on Elektra, but only after the original, far smaller label folded. I feel like this kind of metal doesn’t work quite so well on a budget - it needs that imposing oomph that you can only really get with good audio.
Kyuss then make the odd choice of following up with the rather dull instrumental “Asteroid”. It’s a stop-start number that takes a long time to kick off. It does, eventually, reach a heavy denouement with the kind of frenzied, aggy riff that Homme would perfect in years to come, but it’s something of an energy sapper sequenced so early on the record.
Luckily, it gets better from there. “Supa Scoopa and Mighty Scoop” is a stand out, a throwback ‘60s psych stomp with the album’s best riff. Half way through, everyone takes a load off, the pace drops, and the lads jam out on a dirt-dumb hook for as long as they feel like. They throw in brief fancy licks and bits of backing vox as they fancy, but they’re mainly just wilding out on this one bar pattern, and it sounds fantastic. It could soundtrack an indulgent drug scene in Midnight Cowboy no bother. It’s exactly what I came here for.
It’s a trick they repeat on the fantastic, sprawling closer “Whitewater”. This is eight minutes of dudes in the zone. The first half is as heavy and thudding as Kyuss get, almost jock-rock vibes, it’s that macho and fist pumping. Then the sun sets and it all turns a little spooky. Scott Reeder’s bass is so ominous, gurgling away relentlessly while Homme picks away at his trebley, wounded animal-sounding guitar. There’s a bit of Crazy Horse-era Neil Young to this, even a bit of Cream.
Perhaps my slight sense of disappointment comes because I feel that, by rights, I should enjoy this a smidge more than I do; on paper, it ticks a lot of boxes for me, on speakers, less so. But there are definitely major highlights, as well as an overall vibe, that mean I have to appreciate this record if maybe not much else.
