Review: Earthless at The EARL

“See you in a bit.”

Those were the words from Earthside’s Isaiah Mitchell after greeting the band’s Atlanta office with brief “howdy do.” After that… Mitchell didn’t see much of the audience, and the lighting didn’t matter. There’s a lot said about how fast a car can go from 0 to 60mph… as if 60mph was fast. And there was a time when sound fidelity might have approximated that, like… this. But to another metaphor, a NASA rocket doesn’t have anything on Isaiah Mitchell. Sure, there’s a lot of thrust at the launchpad, but Mitchell skips the whole gravity thing and jumps straight to space flight. Earthless.

From the source, Mitchell says the band’s name is borrowed by a song of the same name by a late 60’s garage-psych band called Druids of Stonehenge. Earthless doesn’t sound like that. Psych rock, stoner rock… sure, whatever. It’s instrumental and long form, but there’s no swirling synthesizers or other psych tropes. This is a full-on, power trio rock assault. The band has one album with vocals, but their groove has definitely been 20 minute plus pieces of pounding drums, throbbing bass, and Mitchell’s guitar theatrics over their 20+ years together.

There’s a certain intensity that recalls blues-rock legend Rory Gallagher’s heyday in the 70’s, his band trying to figure out what the heck Rory was going to do, waiting for some signal. Here, though, I think the band pretty well knows, and that’s something as it’s breakneck soloing for essentially the entirety of the set. The notes, the WHAMMY bar (really, no broken guitar strings from that action?), the wah pedal (the only thing that suggests he’s truly grounded)… it’s a treat to see and hear. It makes sense that Mitchell would close his eyes.

Kudos to the rhythm section. Drummer Mario Rubalcaba splinters his sticks regularly, and those in front have good odds of a getting a souvenir. Bassist Mike Eginton was largely in the shadows this night, but not the sound emanating from his 3’+ amp.

My friend who introduced me to the band told me to be ready for a rocking night and to bring my earplugs. Glad I did! I can’t recall another rock guitarist who apparently finds the first five frets of the guitar neck as unnecessary.

After the show, Mitchell comes out, as nice a person as you’d hope to meet, looking… rested. Maybe that’s a secret benefit to working with your eyes closed.