L.A. quartet IRESS is the sound of a tsunami approaching, in slow motion, massive but carrying a tune, freighted with impending doom but also with a sense of wonder. Not quite metal, or shoegaze, or slowcore, but a cathartic brew of those genres.

To review: The band got its start under the name IRIS, soon realizing that far too many bands considered themselves messengers of the gods and used that name. So they settled on the pseudo-portmanteau IRESS — “ire” for anger, the suffix “-ess” denoting its femaleness. They released an album in 2015 and and EP in 2019 and became a must-see item at L.A. clubs before coalescing for a powerful full-length, “Flaw,” which suffered the fate of being released in first autumn of the pandemic.

Now the quartet — singer-guitarist Michelle Malley, bassist Michael Maldonado, drummer Glenn Chu and new guitarist Graham Walker — return with “Ricochet,” the first single from “Solace,” an EP arriving May 12 via Dune Altar Records.

It’s a refinement of IRESS’s sound, melodic grandiosity but not so dense that the majesty of Malley’s vocals don’t deliver an exorcism.

“I feel emotional every time I sing ‘Ricochet’,” the singer says. “I started writing it a couple years back during a really rough time in my life. When the band got their hands on it, it really transformed into something powerful. It’s a song about loss and anguish and the journey to self-discovery and acceptance.”

Fans of artists such as Marriages, Chelsea Wolfe, Red Sparowes and Emma Ruth Rundle might want to circle May 12 for the release of “Solace.” “Ricochet” is officially out on Friday.

LOS ANGELES, CA- I’ve opined about this on multiple occasions, but Michelle Malley’s voice is otherworldly. It’s one thing to sound good on a studio recording, but she’s equally- if not more- amazing live. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten chills listening to her longingly wail into the microphone. Even when I know it’s coming, I get that tingling down my spine and the few hairs I have on my arms prick up a bit. I mean … I KNOW when those glissandos are coming in “Next”, but every time I hear them, it’s like a virgin experience.

What I love about Michelle’s vocal performances the most is how each time I’ve seen her perform, she seems to get more and more confident and comfortable in her skin, which makes the performances and music that much more powerful. When the band swells into a fuzzy crescendo of riffs, and Michelle’s voice gets powerfully louder with angst, you feel that glorious heaviness push down on your shoulders telling you to pay attention.  Even when she whispers the lyrics, “I’m not ready” there’s this palpable sense of intense vulnerability you simply can’t just ignore. Mesmerizing.

Iress’ Michelle Malley is one of my favorite “indie” rock voices in Los Angeles. No other band gives me melodic doom like Iress, and I long for the next time I get those tingles down my spine again. Luckily, they have new music on the horizon, so more future shows are definitely in order. Their new single “Ricochet” (which they performed live at this show) that drops on March 3rd. Pre-save “Ricochet” here and check ’em out.

Iress – Flaw (doomgaze/slowcore)

What better time for some strong new doomgaze, seeing as we are basically gazing at our own doom on a daily basis here in the States. Los Angeles’ Iress hits a really engaging sweet spot somewhere between the crushing, smoky drone of Tunnel Blanket, the mysticism of Holy Fawn, and the powerful vocal performance of Emma Ruth Rundle and Chelsea Wolfe. Had I not discovered the release of that Giants EP, this would have been my longer review this month. But please consider this essential listening, and if you want to get an immediate sense for it, check out the penultimate track “Wolves,” which is a legit stunner.

When Michelle Malley took the stage, I braced myself. I kinda knew what to expect; a gloriously brutal outpouring of doubt, regret, and sorrow. I was ready to be moved.

From the first song, I was transfixed. Her performance of “Shallow” had all of the intensity and angst as the recording, and when she belted out the chorus, I could feel the bumps start to tingle on my arms. She immediately went on to break my heart with the next song, “Nest”. The emotions and melody start so unassumingly, but then when she gets to the chorus and she sings the glissando in the chorus, you really feel her reaching for that emotion when she sings, “Come away with me.” The longing for comfort is there in the way Michelle sings, and it’s beautiful.

While the music was heavy, Michelle’s mood was not. She was all smiles between songs, showing her gratitude for her friends and fans making out to the show. There was even more humor when Michelle was joined on stage by Graham Walker who accompanied her on guitar for most of the set and had her friend Lauren Coleman, a documentary filmmaker who dusted off the guitar and vocal harmonies to sing a cover of Gillian Welch’s “Everything Is Free” with Michelle. They both laughed after the songs about the mistake that both of them simultaneously made. 

She closed her set with a new song that lacked an official title. She suggested I call it “Ready”, and I thought it was fitting because I’m ready for more music from Michelle and Iress. Singers who pull you into a real palpable emotional state are few and far between, and Michelle has done it to me every time I’ve seen her sing; whether solo, with a band, with a broken arm… 

Other songs performed were “Hand Tremor” and “Dark Love.”

2020 was different, though. For the first time, a significant number of post- bands that released some of my favorite albums of the year were either women led or prominently featured women. At the forefront have been a group of bands leading the charge in one of post-’s most promising offshoots of the past decade: doomgaze. These are bands that play slow, dark, and heavy music that shoots straight for the gut and heart. In London’s A.A. Williams and LA’s Iress you have a pair of singer/songwriters – the eponymous Williams and Michelle Malley – who simply command a room with their powerful and velvety tenor voices. Both bands released albums in 2020 that really catapulted them into the spotlight for fans of post-rock/metal, doom, shoegaze, and beyond.

Flaw, Iress’s sophomore album and first since 2015, has all the feeling of a true debut both in production and performance. It comes across as a fully-formed package that follows in the footsteps of acts like Windhand while putting their own dreamy and fluid spin on it. It’s difficult to listen to tracks like “Nest” and “Underneath” and not simply be swept under by the force of Malley’s voice and the powerful nature of their compositions. For A.A. Williams, Forever Blue is truly her first full-length, following her impressive 2019 self-titled debut EP. Williams’s music takes a somewhat more cinematic and dramatic approach, featuring plenty of piano and strings alongside heavy guitars and bass, which made her a perfect fit to collaborate with Mono for a 10” late 2019. Forever Blue mostly continues the promise of that early work and delivers in stunning fashion. Delicate passages of acoustic guitar and piano effortlessly give way to momentous bouts of energy as Williams constantly plucks at the heartstrings before occasionally going in for an emotional gut punch.

SIMON RAYMONDE'S TOP 10 ALBUMS OF 2020
Told Slant “Point the flashlight and walk”
Gilroy Mere “Adlestrop”
African Head Charge “Off The Beaten Track”
Lee Scratch Perry “Heavy Rain”
Jo Johnson and Hilary Robinson “Antenna Echoes”
Gwenifer Raymond “Strange Lights Over Garth Mountain”
Iress “Flaw”
Seasurfer “Zombies
Emma Ruth Rundle & Thou “May Our Chambers Be Full”
Sacred Paws “Run Around The Sun”

The confluence of metal and shoegaze continues to fascinate me. On paper, the genres — one all about heavy, crushing riffs, the other about ethereal atmospherics — couldn’t be more opposed. But in the hands of capable artists, the two genres can actually complement each other in deeply stirring ways.

Case in point: Flaw, the excellent new full-length from L.A.-based doomgazers Iress. Yes, there are heavy, crushing riffs aplenty in a song like “Shamed,” courtesy of Michelle Malley and Alex Moreno, along with Glenn Chu’s cavernous drums. But “Shamed” also possesses a slow, somber grace that brings to mind the likes of Lush and Pale Saints — were the classic 4AD bands accompanying a funeral procession in the depths of winter.

The band’s secret weapon is Malley’s powerhouse vocals. Though not as airily dreamy as those of Miki Berenyi, Emma Anderson, or Meriel Barham, they still soar in a sorrowful, world-weary manner that transforms Iress’ sonic dolor into something absolutely majestic. (If you need more evidence of this after listening to “Shamed,” then check out Malley’s anguished lament on the epic, 7-minute-long “Shallow.”)

Los Angeles group Iress’ new album, Flaw, draws inspiration from the vast ocean on the city’s doorstep. California bands wielding this kind of weight and drama have often fed on a contrast to the state’s sunny vibes, but, in the current moment, dark catharsis feels like a wholly appropriate creative response to that environment.

For those not already predisposed to heavy music, connecting to it right now, while we are deprived of the in-person experience for the time being, can be a tricky proposition. Does it translate for moments in your daily life to be instilled with the gravity of a Game of Thrones episode? Texture and tension become more crucial than ever. Iress have a natural advantage in that doomgaze of this nature is more compelling with a powerful female voice up front, rather than a typical throat-shredding dude.

Flaw is at its most moving on tracks like “Nest,” which goes from spare to searing and back again on its desert night drive, or in the contrast made by placing the acoustic rumination “Dark Love” next to the massive storm of “Shallow.” Though the album can feel a little unrelenting by the end, when their multiple dimensions come through clear Iress are an imposing force.

True to its cover art, Flaw is the kind of record that bears the intensity of a dark, cold ocean. The sludgy riff introducing album opener ‘Shamed’ instantly signals this change of pace for Iress; the bouncy, hazy indie rock from their 2015 debut Prey has made way for something heavier, something much more sinister. Self-describing their brand of music as ‘doom-gaze’, the Californian band presents a sound not dissimilar to the likes of Chelsea Wolfe and Emma Ruth Rundle, yet succeeds in separating itself from the pack due to an enthralling combination of impeccable musicianship, Michelle Malley’s demanding voice, and, while allowing Flaw enough space to breathe, preventing the record from overstaying its welcome.

While the peppy choruses from the band’s previous output may be gone, Iress has not sacrificed a drop of memorability here. Early highlight ‘Nest’ confidently works its way to a huge, soaring chorus, with Malley lamenting “Come undone with me / Death is all we have” brilliantly capturing the gloomy atmosphere of Flaw. Yet, as bleak of an affair as it may be, it’s a highly catchy moment, with many similarly captivating lyrical moments showing up throughout the record. Similarly, every single note is as heartfelt as it is carefully constructing and adding depth to Iress’ world of dreary beauty. Whether it’s the cymbal-heavy drumming in the aforementioned ‘Shamed’ or the quiet, delicate acoustic guitars that form the framework of ‘Dark Love’, not a second feels out of place. Accentuated by Sarah Tudzin’s immaculate production job, Malley’s voice drifts especially pleasantly in this particular song, gently guiding the song into its blissful dusk.

As incredible of a track as ‘Dark Love’ is, it can primarily be seen as functioning as the perfect prelude to ‘Shallow’ in the context of the full album. Clocking in at seven minutes, the album’s centerpiece is absolutely massive. Commanded by simplistic, hypnotising drums and reverb-drenched guitars, the song masterfully builds tension before erupting into a cathartic explosion of sound, only to deconstruct itself and do it all over again for a colossal finale. The final two minutes see guitars crashing like waves against a distorted bassline, and, most prominently, Malley manages to strain her vocal chords into a stunning, goosebump-inducing shriek. It’s a finale filled with such raw emotion that truly shows off Flaw’s unique ability to amaze with grandiosity, while remaining firmly rooted in sheer, unfiltered humanity.

Even if there is no need for Iress to continue proving themselves after the monumental ‘Shallow’, the band throws in another handful of crushing, distorted numbers for good measure. ‘Hand Tremor’, the closing track, however, is an entirely different beast. Rather, it’s a quiet, restrained track, signaling Flaw has said all it wanted and needed to say, allowing space for Malley’s gentle whispers and muted acoustic guitars to have the final word. Still, in spite of the album closing on such a delicately high note, fully self aware of when it’s time to dismantle itself, it leaves you wishing for more. It’s a record grounded in darkness, yet mystifyingly captivating due to this very gloom. Flaw is fully worth diving into, even though its shallowness may be highly, wonderfully deceptive.

If there is such a thing as the aural equivalent of being buried alive—and I’m not confident that there is, but I’ll get back to you—then the Los Angeles group Iress has found it. It’s not that their gripping new record Flaw is suffocating; it’s that it perfectly captures the feeling of sickening resignation, the moment you realize you’re completely fucked, and nothing you can do will change your situation, so you instead choose to close your eyes and lean into the fear. (Sound familiar?) The album offers a chest-collapsing assortment of riffs that ride the line between doom metal and shoegaze—fans of Starflyer 59’s first two records, take note—occasionally pausing for a somber, smoky ballad (“Nest”) or a bit of grim, throbbing post-rock (“Shallow”). The band’s divining rod is vocalist Michelle Malley, whose performance on this record will drop the jaw of anyone who hears it. Malley is not only a spectacularly gifted vocalist—the command she displays over her robust, purplish alto is breathtaking—she also knows that what the songs require is not emotional histrionics, but some elusive combination of blankness and bereftness, and she manages to nail it every damn time. About three minutes into “Shallow” she works a single syllable—”ah”—for forty-five seconds, going from hopeless to panicked to desperate to pissed-off. She manages to jam more raw human emotion into that one syllable than other artists manage over the course of an entire album.