May 30, 2026 by A.S. Van Dorston

Nashville mimimalist abstract blues band at their most cohesive, introspective and powerful

Nashville’s All Them Witches were true road dogs in the beginning. Between 2012 and 14, I must have seen them opening for other bands nearly half a dozen times. It was great to see them progress from a baby desert blues/stoner psych band into one that commands the room and steals the show. Their second album Lightning at the Door (2013) was an early highlight of their mysterious occult-tinged atmospherics and thunderous riffs. They seemed well on their way to become an all-time great. However, with the next few albums, I had quibbles. Dying Surfer Meets His Maker (2015) was critically well regarded, but I wasn’t feeling the mellow acoustic vibe. Sleeping Through the War (2017) focused on garage psych, up my alley but the songs didn’t quite stick. ATW (2018) was too jammy, but finally, with Nothing as the Ideal (2020), they had a winning mix of heavy psych prog, recorded meticulously at Abbey Road.

In 2022 they workshopped a series of 13 singles, released on Bandcamp and streaming, which had the band experimenting with a bunch of styles, compiled into Baker’s Dozen (2023), nearly two hours long. It felt like they were working up to something special, and seeing them for the first time in years at Austin Psych Fest in 2024, I was really looking forward to their seventh official full-length.

House of Mirrors does not disappoint. While it dials back the progressive elements from Ideal, it really zeroes into their strengths and essence — minimalist, atmospheric, abstract desert blues. It’s their most cohesive album, nailing down the moody introspection they first attempted with Dying Surfer, but this time it’s more consistently successful. “Red Rocking Chair” kicks it off with a minor key lick that brings Screaming Trees and Alice in Chains to mind, leading into the heaviest doomiest fuzz riff on the album. That and the explosive “Culling Line” serve as a bridge from their early work. “Aethernet” is a slow blues that brings in the abandoned desert highway vibe, while “Go-getter” is an ethereal ballad. “Hold Up, Say What?” has the kind of quick vocal cadence and nimble rhythms that White Denim excels at, but rocks harder.

Single “Starting Line” packs a powerful emotional whallop, with a hook and chorus that measures up to the high standards of the best from Swedish brothers-in-blues Graveyard. Now we’re cookin’, as “Turn on the Light” continues the bangers, building from a slow simmer to a head-spinning, soaring climactic terminal lift in the last minute. “Angel on the Wayside” mixes Western noir atmospherics with a galloping cadence that remind me of another Swedish band, the much-missed Troubled Horse. “The Welterweight” is another stunner, the early album highlight for me, at least for the first half half dozen listens. It all comes down to Ben McLeod’s unadorned, weary, vulnerable vocal take, possibly his most evocative performance ever. Album closer “Saturn Song” feels like the second part of “The Welterweight” as the transition is so smooth with harmonic continuity, you might not have noticed where one song ended and the other began. It plays out like a coda, with an ascending riff that suggests the band is cruising onward and upward through the solar system rather than staying grounded.

If this album isn’t ATW’s best, it’s close — time will tell with further repeated listens. After the expansiveness of their loosey goosey experiments in Baker’s Dozen, this comes in at a tight, satisfying 48 minutes, hitting all the buttons that needed pressing.