SWAMI News

Sultans Ghost Ship LP was originally released on Sympathy For The Record Industry in 2000. While RFTC looked for a new drummer, Speedo (armed with an 8 track tape machine and 3 microphones) devised yet another alias as “Slasher” and concocted this primordial ooze of moped scuzz, punk rock and roll. Ghost Ship was met with enthusiasm by those seeking blistering relief from the weak, whiny, wretched and wimpy wannabes du jour.

The sound is full on, straight ahead with only starting gates and finish lines between songs. The band played some shows around California and would slightly evolve on their second LP Shipwrecked. Ghost Ship is Sultans at their most thuggish and hairiest. Taking inspiration from Australia’s Chosen Few, Ramones bootlegs, Misfits bootlegs and then challenging themselves to be as thrifty and impatient as possible, the songs are intentionally brief, similar and burly. After this was recorded these tapes lay dormant in a shed for over 20 years. When the tapes were recently unearthed it revealed unreleased songs recorded after Ghost Ship yet before the band’s follow up LP Shipwrecked. Some of these songs would later be absorbed by RFTC and re-recorded. These songs are included here as bonus tracks and offer no relief to the record’s unrelenting pace.

San Diego’s Mrs. Magician has always bent surf music and punk into something delightfully off-kilter — sun-soaked, hook-heavy power pop with a lyrical fixation on life’s darker undercurrents. Their 2012 debut, Strange Heaven, was a nihilistic pop statement that grew into a cult classic. The 2016 follow-up, Bermuda, sharpened the edges with punchy, nervy songwriting. Both records were produced by John Reis (Rocket From The Crypt, Hot Snakes, Drive Like Jehu), cementing the band’s place in Southern California’s underground lineage. Now, in 2026, Mrs. Magician reemerges with their long-awaited third LP, Spiritual Hangover. Recorded at Dave Grohl’s Studio 606 and Singing Serpent Studios with producer Christian Cummings, Spiritual Hangover finds songwriter Jacob Turnbloom trading youthful nihilism for something more reflective. Where earlier records wrestled with existential dread through anthemic defiance, this new collection embraces uncertainty — an admission of ignorance in the face of the human condition, paired with a genuine longing for connection and understanding. The humor remains. The hooks are sharper than ever. But the perspective has shifted.

These songs feel less like a declaration of dominance and more like a celebration of fragility — an acknowledgment that life is fleeting, confusing, and still worth enjoying. The album features Andrew Montoya (drums) and Mark Rivera (bass) of The Sess, Ian Fowles (guitar) of The Aquabats, and John Reis (guitar). Spiritual Hangover channels the bright urgency of late-’70s power pop through a distinctly Californian lens — warm, melodic, and irresistibly alive. “Super fun, well crafted, with great melodies. It gives me that late ’70s power pop energy I loved so much as a kid. Every track has something joyous to grab onto. In a world full of bleak news, Spiritual Hangover is a warming blast of California sunshine.” — Walter Schreifels (Gorilla Biscuits/Quicksand)

**ON LTD SPLATTER VINYL** First time available on vinyl! With bonus tracks and unreleased material! The Sultans formed in 2000 and were John Reis / Slasher and Tony DiPrima and at times also Andy Stamets / Black Flame (Rocket From The Crypt’s ND) and Dean Reis / Black Velvet (Mannequin Piss, Spider Fever, The Heartaches, Los Dug Dugs). Shipwrecked was the bands second album and was released only on CD in 2004.

It was hailed as a “power-pop meets ’70s punk classic” by Virtual Underground Press and “…a masterpiece of the form...essential” by the Cleveland Call And Post. This reissue is a labor of lust with maximum attention to detail in resurrecting these masters from their deteriorated, analog state. The result is a louder, thicker and even more bristling slab of triumphant rock ’n’ roll. Everything on this reissue cuts deeper and breaks the digital glass into razor sharp shards and then shits on the 1s and 0s. Treble Magazine says. “It is the perfect soundtrack to your post-breakup life: fourteen songs about heartache, shame, trying to move on, regrets and just plain old hate. (And by the by, hate has never sounded as good as this)”. Added to the original are four bonus tracks, one being a cover of The Dils “Blow Up” and another the never released “Out Of Focus”. Shipwrecked was the last record at Drag Racist (Hot Snakes, RFTC, etc) before it shuddered its doors for good.

Celebrating 55 years in the music business! Swami John Reis is back with his second LP in eight months. Time To Let You Down is a savage blast of junk shoppe punk that kicks you in the ding ding. This eleven track LP is chock full of fist pumpers, head bumpers, stinky dumpers, meaty thumpers and toe stumpers. The tempos are often breakneck and the dense arrangements tumble like bricks into hot cheese. The undeniable sonic girth barges at will into lathered ear tubes allowing these barbaric anthems to echo in hollow domes. Feel the whip crack break skin on the acne scarred backs of our cultural oppressors. The sound is tough. The songs are a bitch. Incite your expectations with the single “Fed To The Dogs” or the title track. Salty leather and wobbly chain link fences can’t contain its rebel intent. These recordings took place Oct. 2024 and features Swami John Reis on guitar and vocals with contributions from Jason Sinclair (Hot Snakes), Joey Guevara (Swami and the Bed Of Nails), Jacob Turnbloom (Mrs. Magician) and Glen Galloway (Truman’s Water). The record was produced by John Reis, engineered and mixed by Ben Moore and mastered by Dave Gardner. Time To Let You Down is pressed on virgin, Egyptian pellets and available in limited, colorful vinyl that have been hand-swirled. You’ll not only clearly hear the difference, you will see it as well.

Swami John Reis celebrates his 100th year in rock ’n’ roll with a brand new band and record! “Ride The Wild Night” is neither completely similar nor dissimilar to his previous bands (Hot Snakes, Night Marchers, The Sultans, Rocket From The Crypt, Drive Like Jehu, etc).

Yet the sound is immediately familiar and assuring (like an old friend you lost touch with that comes back into your life only to ask to borrow money).

The music is an amalgam of ’60s folk-punk, ’70s punk-punk and pre-Vietnam War rock ’n’ roll, filtered through the Reis’ unregistered, trademark sensibilities. “I wanted to celebrate some of my favorite rock n roll in its transitional periods. Flaming Groovies, Paul Revere and the Raiders, The Kinks, The Saints and others created some of the most exciting recordings while also connecting the musical past to its future. That really appeals to me”.

Although titled a “solo” record it is predominantly in name only. The record is built on stentorian bedrock of savage drumming by J. Sinclair K. of Hot Snakes and the pounding acoustic piano of Joe Guevara. Also adding their expertise to the mix is Chris Prescott (Pinback) Gar Wood (Hot Snakes), Glen Galloway (Truman’s Water), Jacob Turnbloom (Mrs. Magician) and Jordan Clark (PLOSIVS). With this backing, Swami John Reis finalizes it with his throaty basso and weaponizes the files with roaring electric guitars, rapid acoustic guitar strum and bass.

Hear his defiant, croak-howl in what might be his most autobiographical work yet. “All of these stories are real. They just might not be completely true.” Reis adds, ”The words come from what I overhear through my fence, what I see across the street, pictures I see in my head, experiences that I can’t forget or am grateful to remember.” If there is a loose theme throughout the record he offers, “Musically and lyrically there is a motivation to surrender to a restless and impulsive spirit that can only be satisfied by breaking things. Creating rubble for better or worse. “

Music critics and fans alike have long referred to Reis’s signature voice as “The Velvet Yawn” and never has that description been more apt. “Ride The Wild Night” was recorded by Reis at City Of Refuge (Night Marchers, Black Lips, The Spits) and mixed by Ben Moore (Hot Snakes, Diamanda Galas) at Singing Serpent.

Perpetual Doom proudly presents the new album from Austin Leonard Jones: Dead Calm. On this collection of nine new tracks, the Texas-based troubadour channels his eclectic talent into a melancholy country groove. Full of signature tumbleweed melodies and his deadpan wit, it is an essential addition to Jones’ unique and varied catalog.

Like any good country record, Dead Calm starts with a joke and ends in tears. “A werewolf walks into a bar,” Jones sings on opener “Cape Fear,” where vampires pour drinks and no one seems to escape. The town might be full of the undead, but it could be anywhere—after all, as Jones says, “It’s hard on the living in Cape Fear.” The slide guitar and faint bright keys set the tone for an album that mixes domestic sorrow with a touch of kitsch, like Conway Twitty at a seasonal Halloween outlet. “I’m the sole survivor of the all-night show,” he sings on “Back in the Black Lagoon,” “and it cost a thousand tears for every episode.” Somewhere between a funeral and a costume party, Dead Calm bursts with classic songwriting sure to get you on the dance floor and crying.

All these ghost towns, desert bars, and haunted capes emerge from the small town outside Austin where Jones wrote and recorded the album. Alongside producer Jesse Woods, he crafted a sound based on the traditional country palette of acoustic and slide guitar, organ and gentle drums. Songs like “Night Parrots” and “Demon Sands” take stock of life’s disappointments as Jones’ maudlin voice and Jesse Siebenberg’s pedal steel twist tighter around each other. “The Australia Song” puts autobiographical storytelling first, while “Exotics” laughs at our tendency to seek satisfaction in far-off places and things. It all comes together on “Its Treachery,” where Jones confronts the intimate betrayals of “a whole life not working out as planned.”

Sound familiar? Austin Leonard Jones invites you to join the club.