Sleep made the best stoner-doom music that will ever get made. Then they broke up. Matt Pike formed High on Fire. The other two-thirds of Sleep are here now in Om. And it sounds a whole fucking lot like Sleep. Cool. Bassist Al Cisneros and drummer Chris Hakius have made a three-track behemoth of a release here. It's really one big song, and it sounds like black birds flying around while the world ends and they shit rolls of esoteric wisdom on refuges where monks are praying to survive the apocalypse. - VICE Magazine / Joe Melina

Julian Cope's Album of the Month
Note: Officially re-starting my second psychedelic period on January 1st this year, I chewed up two large portions of Mexican mushies and proceeded into the Underworld, at whose portals I did espy a large spectral Viking ship floating in deep space, manned by several translucent rock'n'roll musicians armed with the sonic equivalent of STAR WARS-style light sabres. By 5 a.m., I was convinced that rock'n'roll - though inappropriate for much of the straighter population of the world - was still the best way to enlightenment for those itinerant few whose lives depend on travel, change and inconstancy. It was, therefore, with great joy that I discovered the return of these two poet musicians - the Uber Weedians, if you will. Gentlemen, it's been too long a hibernation… Welcome home!

Two-Thirds
Breaks the new month with southern sunrise refracting, slowly tracing arc-lights of Mithra cross Rinde's frozen belly. Yup, after disappearing into the underworld at the end of the last millennium, the great Dionysus is re-awakened and risen from below Mt. Parnassus… It's true, motherfuckers. Chris Hakius and Al Cisneros - two-thirds of San Jose's legendary Sleep - are finally back from the dead after over half a decade. They'ze been reborn as the Sacred Twins and we all gots to start writing in that same elegant spewdo-religious psychobabble in deference to this fact. And if that sounds like I ain't totally down with this album and its higher aims, then excuse me reinforcing my assertions by quoting my own review of Sleep's DOPESMOKER, because the lyrics of Al Cisneros were truly "the kind of accessible pseudo-religious genius that started genuine religions."

Yup, I am yet again worshipping at these guys' pragmatic altar of eternal usefulness. Indeed, I love everything about this record, its sound, its persistent mid-tempo sludge trudge (what they themselves call: "a transportive series of differentiated verse with sets of solid groove"), its vocal mantras and its total devotion to taming time. Indeed, even the clichéd but perfectly righteous sleeve, with the It's a Beautiful Day-style lone-eagle-in-the-sky and almost New Age lettering snags me by the cobblers. Both pertinent AND righteous simultaneously, most surely because this is one supremely meditational album. For, whereas Sleep's guitarist Matt Pike attempted to banish the ghost of his old band with his highly rock High on Fire power trio project, Messrs. Cisneros and Hakius have instead further reduced their previous Sleep trip, honing it down to a guitarless yet amazingly complete Rickenbacker bass/vocals and drums sound that - like the best reggae - knits itself into both the ether and the air surrounding it and, taking the 52-minutes of Sleep's '95 'Jerusalem' as its blueprint, presents a sound that is so bold and obvious you wonder why no sucker had copped this idea before. But, like all the greats, the usefulness of this level of invention is only self-evident when presented ultra-confidently to the listener by those originators themselves. And so the magnificently-named Om project kick starts itself as full of attitude as if Sleep had merely shed another guitarist (as they did with Justin Marler between their own debut and SLEEP'S HOLY MOUNTAIN) and taken a sabbatical in order to trim off further fat stored up during their cross-millennial hibernation.

Cisneros & Hakius

Long Dark Evenings at the Back of Your Mind

Moreover, the much later release of '95's 'Jerusalem' in its massively excavated, extended and re-evaluated 2003 form as DOPESMOKER has by now put so much space between the SLEEP'S HOLY MOUNTAIN period and this debut by Om, that there is no longer any need to make even oblique references to their Sabbath origins, save perhaps for mentioning that their trudge was undoubtedly initially informed by the low low highs of MASTER OF REALITY's ''Into the Void' (in which Tony Iommi so subsumed his Gibson SG into Geezer's bass frequencies that Cisneros has easily nailed the sound with one single distoto Rickenbacker). By 'Jerusalem' anyway, Cisneros had dumped whatsoever Ozzie-styled vocalisms that remained in favour of his now celebrated and convoluted High Priest of the Ganga 'Proceeds the Weedian' vocal delivery that bears no relationship to any other rock'n'roll vocal style. Cisneros' earlier devotion to Holy Land and Middle East imagery ('Sacred Israel, Holy Mt. Zion', 'Hasheeshian Lebanon', 'prayer-filled smoke Golgotha', etc., etc), and Atlantean, Hindi and Biblical references were always far removed from the typical Heavy Metal lyricist. But they have here on this Om debut been pared down to just a couple of passing references (Lazarus, Vedic Sun) that seem to have been employed more for their ability to conjure up instantly 'otherly' associations, rather than for any specific meanings. Indeed, looking back to 'Jerusalem', the evidence is that Cisneros had the FX of the pot and its reggae associations in his mind rather than anything deeper. What other metaller would allude to the 'Groundation soul' in his lyrics, let alone intone about taking hits from 'the green cutchie'?

Whatever, these strange lyrical allusions still steadfastly remain products of Cisneros' desire for shamanic flight and enthrall the listener on this Om voyage. On 'Annapurna', Cisneros intones: "I climb toward the sun to breathe the indrawn universal" and "The flight to freedom gradient raise the called ascendant." Just as 20th century liberal Anglicans adapted King James' Bible in an attempt to make it more approachable to we Moderns, but accidentally rendered it secular and useless in the process, so Cisneros cunningly cloaks his words in such a stylised and seemingly arcane Second Language Translation Speak that his otherwise fairly obvious poetic allusions are raised towards the Blakean.

On the massive opening track, the initiate watches as the 'summit upholds the canopied skies of a new day'. 'Kapila's Theme' summons up more 'Jerusalem' with lines such as "Sight to freedom rises descender" and the tortuously fabulous mouthful: "Prevails flight resplendent - sails the shrine effulgent windship". Get down! Indeed, that last winner reminds me that much of the power of these words lies in the confidently concise nature of Al Cisneros' outrageous glossary. Such lyrics as "accretes the ground nerve skein" and "approach the grid substrate the sunglows beam to freedom" are so commonplace in this man's work, that you really gots to accept his own publicity hand-out, in which he declares that the power of the lyrics is not in their meaning but in their ability to 'serve as symbolist vehicles to a state outside the field of time and space'. Indeed, delivered in such a chanted manner, instant psychedelic vision is conjured by such wild claims as:
"Striates into the sky on outwards spires reaching
Under orbic vermillion sun migration on the wings."

The Flight to Freedom

It should be noted that this first Om album is very much that; a debut on which to hang big hopes of further massive offerings. In many ways, Cisneros and Hakius have sensibly aimed not too high, working again with Doom-meister Billy Anderson and pruning the gargantuan offerings of late Sleep into palatably ingestible sacraments for our repeated usage. Indeed, I've had the record on permanent repeat these past two weeks and listened to it integrate with the video blue walls of my bedroom as its vocal mantras have caught on the sharper objects upon my walls, enveloping them ever so gradually like a persistent spider pursuing and finally catching an increasingly sleepy late November fly. That said, the great centrepiece of this Om debut is still a highly charged and high reaching piece of Zoner Rock. This, the aforementioned 21-minutes of "On the Mountain at Dawn", with its ten verses and repeated mantras, could surely never in a million years have come from the inexperienced mind of first timers. And if the gentlemen can achieve such spectacular results with simple bass, drums and vocals, we can only hope that the fruits of subsequent bong voyages are the kind of rampantly overachieving stunners that can equip our innermost Mung Worshipful selves right on into the next decade.

So give these gentlemen two rounds of applause - first for their new album, and second for their determination to accept that their metaphor was righteous enough in the first place to GET BACK ON IT!!!
- Reviewed by Julian Cope

You can't give full credit to Sleep for inventing stoner rock, but they did help perfect the shotgun wedding of doom metal and Sabbath inspired licks alongside Kyuss and Monster Magnet (first couple of records only) around the late '80s/early '90s. And undoubtedly, their epochal song/album Jerusalem (which was reissued a couple of ears ago as a longer, superior mix under the track's original name Dopesmoker) serves as an aural high water mark for stoners looking to bang heads in time with their bong hits. Sadly, the fracas surrounding the album - namely the fact that major label London was kind of pissy about the trio taking two years and a six figure advance and returning with the highly unmarketable end result - imploded the band. Om reunites the rhythm section from that magically delicious record, pairing drummer Chris Hakius with bassist Al Cisneros for the three lengthy tracks that make up Variations on a Theme.
Comparisons to Sleep are pretty much unavoidable when talking about this album. After all, two-thirds of Jerusalem/Dopesmoker's creative force are once again gathered here. And much like their previous band, Hakius and Cisneros plug in for close to 45 minutes of riff-tastic jams. But in the absence of Matt Pike's guitar, the duo manage to deviate enough so that this isn't just a stripped down rehash. Confined to only drums, bass, and vocals, Cisneros and Hakius bolt down their rhythms and replace the loose structuring of Sleep with tighter arrangements and heavier reliance on minimal repetition. The name "Om" is thus fitting, pimped from its Buddhist and Hinduism meanings to imply the fundamental essence of stoner rock: the bass groove, the crashing cymbals and booming percussion.
Variations on a Theme is an appropriate title as well, as the band hardly diverges from one central idea over the course of the albums three tracks. "On the Mountain at Dawn" sets the tone quickly for all that follows - a distorted, snaking bass line undulates on top of the steady thump of the drums while Cisneros intones lyrics that, surprisingly, seem to be free of any cryptic pot-smoking references. The pair lock into passages of throbbing intensity, but still never give in to any desire to deviate from the patterns they establish. At times it has the vague effect of maybe an Indian raga or a Can jam, using subtle variations in the repetition of a basic pattern to achieve a maximum effect, but it always holds true to central rock tenets, never once segueing into awkward cultural appropriations or vague Kraut-rock stylings.
"Kapila's Theme" hits the same stoner mainline, only at a slower pace this time, dwelling on the reverberations from Cisneros' basslines in between his vocal chants. And "Annapurna" is the highlight of the disc. The rhythm is a little less straightforward, the bass sounds thicker than syrup, and the duo work a successful crescendo to the album's massive, fist-pumping climax.
Connoisseurs of this type of material aren't likely to find a lot new here, but the fact that it's all rhythmic intensity with exactly zero guitar puts a nice spin on things, and with engineering duties handled by the great Billy Anderson, there's a great balance between instrumental clarity and the necessary murky, muddy sound quality that makes a good stoner rock record into a great one. In the end, though, it's nice to see Hakius and Cisneros reunite to pick up where they left off in the mid-'90s with Sleep and issue a record that seems to sound better and better the louder you turn up the volume. Amidst the current crop of navel-gazing, self obsessed indie rockers, Variations on a Theme sounds like a breath of doob-tinged fresh air.
By Michael Crumsho - Dusted Magazine

Variations on a Theme's cover and type font hint at jazz austerity. Play the sucker, though, and you're submerged in sludgy mantras, as though wallowing in tar pits while zonked on Gaia's strongest herb. You'll want to listen while clutching the Oxford Unabridged, to look up every other word vocalist Al Cisneros intones like a baked Ozzy, and possibly for ballast amid his earth-moving bass lines. While most metal artists align themselves with forces of darkness like Beelzebub or H.P. Lovecraft, the real mavericks espouse devout religiosity, just like Om (former Sleep bassist Cisneros and drummer Chris Hakius). If these guys don't Rock for Light, they at least strive toward a cryptic sort of enlightenment and spirituality. Cisneros carves monumental, undulating bass riffs out of obsidian that'll inspire hip-grinding with your primary lust object as Hakius maintains steady cymbal taps, stoner-funk beats, and stray ratatat fills. Little changes during Variations' 45 minutes, but the disc does capture the satisfying inexorability of viewing a landslide in slow motion, with much arcane verbiage to boot.

Dave Segal - East Bay Express
Overall this three-song album that runs about 45 minutes long creates a ritualistic atmosphere full of stoner doom heaviness and fuzzed out riffing. Variations on a Theme establishes Om as a well-experienced band that that fans of stoner doom should not pass up. This is probably the closest you'll come to hearing something new from Sleep and it does not disappoint.
- Encyclopedia Metallum

Variations on a Theme couldn't be a more appropriate title for this debut from Om. This duo, featuring former Sleep members Al Cisneros and Chris Hakius, carry on right where Sleep left off. Slow, thick waves of distorted bass and complex jazzy drumming flow under chant-style vocals. Although there's no guitar, you don't really miss it,
- Absolut Metal

OM is a two-men outfit. A minimalist rhythm section line-up including Al Cisneros on bass and vocals and old fellow Chris Haikus on drums. We were proved, with bands such as Lightning Bolt, that bass and drums were more than enough to create a high musical density. And with that same density, but a totally different content (we're far away from the experimental punk-noise of LB), OM slowly but surely develops its sonic repetitive 70's-like psalmodies without ever failing. Opening track "On the Mountain at Dawn" is not less than a 21 minutes stoner litany that precisely reminisces about "Dragonaut", the leading cut out of Sleep's Holy Mountain. By the way, the entire album is a coherent invitation to a lazy but serious meditation that no pot-smoker would repudiate for sure. The straight recitation of Cisneros mantras - which was already featured in early Sleep and reached its climax on Jerusalem/Dopesmoker (dare I say that "Proceeds The Weedian, Nazareth!" is almost a cult sentence for some few fanatics?) - levitates above an instrumental section with a high motive force, resulting from the osmosis between obstinate (indeed obsessed), heavy, fuzzy bass riffs and untiring groovy drums hammering. OM's music is a quasi-reactionary act, but they obviously can't be blamed for that, as the 70's musical codes are here so greatly revisited and serve an idea of music that becomes a unique brand.
- MONOLITH

Sleep fans have been waiting for Cisneros to reemerge for years, so the release of this record is kind of a big deal. From listening to Variations on a Theme, it's clear Cisneros was the main creative force in Sleep. The album has three tracks: a 20-minute opener and two 12-minute songs. All are in the same key, with almost the same repetitive riff, as well as parts of "Dopesmoker" and parts of the title track from Sleep's Holy Mountain. It seems like this is the riff Cisneros has been hearing in his brain since he started playing music, an idea that makes the record interesting on a level beyond simply listening to it.
Another idea that makes the record interesting is that if you smoke hella weed and turn it up loud enough to make your eyes bleed, you will be rewarded with previously unheard bass tones, a calming, almost meditative effect that's actually more like having a pillow put over your face. On top of that, you get three opportunities to hear these guys start a song, a thing Cisneros and Hakius as a rhythm section do better than almost anyone. They really know how to make the beginning of a song sound like the sky is cracking open.
- SF Bay Guardian - Mike McGuirk

Have you been missing Sleep? No, not your forty winks, we mean the mighty stoner metal behemoth that was San Jose's Sabbath n' sweet leaf worshippers Sleep. The endlessly repetitive riffs, the swinging molasses sludge jams, the massive, mantric starscapes of drugged-out space rock drone and dirge? Yeah, we've been missing Sleep too. They broke up after their magnum opus, the one-hour/one-song album Jerusalem (aka Dopesmoker), members eventually resurfacing in The Sabians and High On Fire. And now Om, the closest thing to the Jerusalem of olde! So if High On Fire's loud and speedy Motorheaded heaviness hasn't quite been giving you that same Sleepy feeling, then here's -another- post-Sleep outfit that might just do the trick.
First get rid of the guitars ('cause this is just Sleep's rhythm section, bassist Al Cisneros and drummer Chris Hakius). All they really need is a drum kit, a bass guitar and about 10,000 watts of amplification. Then set the controls for the heart of the sun, and ride all the way there seemingly on a single churning, hypnotic mesmerizing riff, stretched over three long tracks. A super distorted, fuzzed out magic carpet ride into oblivion. The main difference between Sleep and Om (besides the lack of guitar) are the vocals by Al Cisneros. Lots of vocals. And not screaming or growly, we're talking clean, chanting, trance-like vocals, WAY up in the mix. Well, they do sound a bit like the singing in Sleep, just way more prominent. It may be the single thing that keeps folks from getting into Om. But the vocals definitely grow on you, and the laconic sort of slurry sing song-y delivery just further enhances Om's druggy mesmerism. Al's stiffly delivered, endless nasal incantations are in fact now being imitated by the staffers here at Aquarius in our everyday conversations. They definitely give the whole thing a definite Hawkwind / Pink Floyd vibe, which is a VERY good thing. This is most definitely not 'metal', although metalheads will probably dig it. Electric Wizard fans especially! This is relentlessly riff heavy, ultra repetitive, simple, spaced out, hippy drug rock of the highest order. Musically it almost sounds like a Lightning Bolt record played at 16rpm, that effortless bass / drum interplay slowed down to a loping lumber, a slow motion slither, a creepy crawl. Head nodding music for head bangers. A swirling, fuzzy, spacy, mesmerizing, drone rock trip! No wonder ol' Julian Cope wrote it up as a record of the month
--Aquarius Records

The rhythm section of Sleep; Al Cisneros on bass and vocals, and Chris Hakius on
drums, deliver three extensive monolithic slabs of heaviness in a quarter of an hour.
Al thrums his bass while flattening out miles of landscape, as he speaks these cryptic/robotic words, and Chris circles and loops in mad methodical patterns. Plodding and relentlessly grim,
this ultimately feels like a series of apocalyptic instructions delivered from some scorched future world.
--George Parsons Dream Magazine #5