RWAKE
The weirdest thing happened when I listened to The Return of Magik, Little Rock, Ark., metal wraiths RWAKE’s first album since 2011: I got the warm fuzzies. It wasn’t what I was expecting — this is, after all, one of the most terrifying doom outfits to ever haul a body of work out of the backwoods of Southern music. But the magic is in fact back, more fearsome and furious than ever on the sprawling new double LP from Relapse Records.
Return of Magik takes the band’s spellcraft into both more intimate and more cosmic places while they summon the monster riffs that have been crushing underground audiences for decades. The Scene caught up with co-vocalist Brittany Fugate and guitarist John Judkins to talk about the process of recording and finding the magic in the work before they bring the ritual ear massacre of a release celebration to Eastside Bowl’s The ’58 on Friday.
“Our life force is being able to come together as a unit and create such beautiful and honest things,” says Fugate. “It’s the fuel of life. … It’s so important to be able to have that outlet — just, like, all of it. It’s just so important to our souls to have that.
“And at the end of the day, it’s such a cathartic experience for all of us that to pick out the favorite part of it is almost impossible to me because, again, it’s just such a cathartic experience that you need it and you just love it so much.”
For Judkins, a Middle Tennessee native and longtime local heavy rocker now based in Miami, this album marks his first contribution to the band’s recording process. He joined the group around the release of their previous epic Rest. But his history with the band goes back even further.
“Well, I’ve known these guys since ’97,” Judkins explains. “I was in an old death metal band called Denial of Grace, and they played, we opened for them. It was at [long-shuttered Nashville record shop and venue] Lucy’s. … I remember being like, ‘What the fuck’s going on?’ [Co-vocalist Chris Terry] is talking about speaking to the insects so they can carry the story — our songs — to whenever the world ends. … And I was a 16-year-old little country boy from McMinnville. So I’ve always had a respect for them, built in from that mystery.
“The difference between being younger and being older is [your] appreciation changes,” he continues. “You realize that you’re not invincible, and that you actually do love life and living. And so appreciation changes. So, of course, you appreciate people more and what you contribute.”
RWAKE
Return of Magik has a drawling take on folk horror and esoteric earth magick — something like A24 in the Ozarks. The group builds a world from a dense, often cataclysmic clash of textures. In opener “You Swore We’d Always Be Together,” an Erik Satie-like pastoralism cedes to sludgy quicksand suffocation, before ethereal slide guitar weaves its way in and more skull-crushing riffology dominates the soundscape.
The title track wastes no time opening up the pit in our blackened hearts, with pummeling beats and a vocal duel that’s as intense as it is dynamic. The narrative and harmonic arcs twist and turn, burning like a wicker man in a fog-shrouded forest — each song drifting dangerously close to burning the whole world down.
“We’ve always been more of a live band,” says Fugate. “To truly be a part of that ritualistic experience through a live show where it really connects that way … to be able to go and have that experience for us and to give that experience to other people.”
“I’ve just been itching for this opportunity to really be a part of the writing process in earnest, and then the recording process,” Judkins explains. “I can say that [my bandmates are] my brothers and sisters. To get this record out there has been really important for me just to kind of solidify how much I love this music, how much I love these people, and to be involved with it in the most official capacity as possible.”
Which brings us back to the warm fuzzies. That weird vibe that runs underneath this pulsing slab of progressive doom? Turns out it’s love and friendship. For all of the spooky vibes and portents of destruction, you can hear this six-piece having a blast, escalating and elevating the madness in the way that old friends so often do.
“At the end of the day, there’s no substitute for the six of us getting onstage and the energy from that, coupled with the energy of the room,” Fugate says. “We absolutely love it and crave it and need it. I think we need it now more than ever. I think the world needs it now more than ever.”
