Some bands write albums. Komatsu builds them—out of concrete, feedback, and old truck parts still dripping oil. On A Breakfast for Champions, they’re not serving up your typical greasy spoon stoner fare. This is more like getting punched in the jaw before your first coffee. It’s loud, it’s filthy, and it doesn’t ask if you’re ready. It assumes you’re not, and keeps swinging.
The Eindhoven crew have been kicking around since 2010, and by now, they’ve carved out a space for themselves with zero regard for trend or polish. They don’t float on fuzz—they drag it behind them like a busted muffler, spitting sparks. Sludge and stoner are the cornerstones, sure, but what Komatsu do with that combo is less Sabbath worship and more steamroller baptism. This record feels heavy in the chest—not just tuned low, but sinking-low. Like the weight of a week’s worth of hangovers and bad decisions.
There’s no mystery here. No ambient interludes. No weed jokes. Just riff after riff, tar-black and massive, laid down like brickwork by a band that knows exactly what the fuck they’re doing. The tone is dialed in to that sweet spot between buzzsaw and earthquake, and the grooves come with just enough swing to nod your head before snapping your neck.
Vocals shouted from the diaphragm like someone who’s done time in the van and the factory. Not theatrical, not clean, not clever—just raw, cracked, real. And the rhythm section doesn’t color inside the lines either. The drums drive like they’re chasing something. The bass sounds like it’s chewing the floor. Everything’s just slightly unhinged, but locked in tight where it counts.
A pile of smoldering riffs and a band that’s been doing this long enough to know they don’t owe anyone a damn thing. Five albums deep and they still sound like a band playing like their gear might blow up at any second. And that’s the magic. They’ve held on to the dirt, the danger, the edge.
This album isn’t for everyone. It’s for the lifers. The ones who still buy vinyl, who still hit basement shows, who still crave that moment when the riff kicks in and your brain turns off. For those people, Komatsu just served up a full plate of exactly what the world’s been missing: no-bullshit, riff-forward, sludge-stained stoner metal that actually feels alive.
Roll down the windows. Crank it ‘til your guts vibrate. This is your breakfast. Eat up or fuck off.
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Released by Heavy Psych Sounds Records on April 11th, 2025
