All Them Witches and King Buffalo take us on a musical journey of mysticism, magic, and musicianship in History, Toronto.
All Them Witches – King Buffalo
History, Toronto – 9 December 2026
Words: Sunil Singh
It was just after 10:30 pm. I was sitting outside, on a large, square planter. The cool, crisp winter breeze felt refreshing, unintentionally snapping me out of my music coma and exhaustion.
All Them Witches were playing their final encore, Alabaster. Inside were my friends Ish Khan, David Downer, and Jim Gamas. While Jim is the oldest friend in the bunch, I’ve known him for over 50 years, this was his first concert in this relatively underground stoner scene. He would be the first to admit he knows little of what I have been experiencing on a daily basis for over thirty years. Here was his reflection for the headliner:
“As a first-timer, walking into the venue and seeing a very diverse crowd, both in terms of age and sex, heightened my anticipation for the show. When All Them Witches roared onto the stage and blew through their set, I wondered why they were not more well-known. Based on the crowd’s reaction, they will be, one day soon.
“Ben McLeod was brilliant on lead guitar and could have been much more mesmerising with proper spot lighting to showcase his phenomenal guitar skills.”
Why I was outside for the final song is something that has only happened once to me before. That was seeing Henry Rollins back in 1992. A show that I left early because I was just physically drained, my then-younger body tapped out after 2 hours of punk/hardcore intensity.
Well, more than thirty years later, I got “Rollinsed” again.
But this time, the depletion came in the form of emotional/spiritual exhaustion. My brain simply had no more endorphins left to fire. King Buffalo and All Them Witches made sure that I was not just listening to them (and of course, seeing them), but that I was feeling them with every musical second.
I asked Martin Wegeland, lead singer of Sweden’s Domkraft (easily one of the best bands to come on the stoner/doom scene the last 10 years) to write a quote for a new chapter I am adding to Sonic Seducer–Age of Aquarius: From Community to Communion.
This is what he wrote:
“I’ve always been feeling music rather than listening to it. No matter the genre, I want that physical experience, and if you can get your head on board as well, you can reach that out-of-body experience whilst still very much present in your mind. At best, it’s almost a spiritual sensation. Everyone is locked in, band and crowd, and whilst the experiences are highly personal, we’re all parts in making that moment together.”
Tonight was more than a spiritual sensation. It was a spiritual journey of two bands at their absolute peak right now, giving the audience an emotional ascension that at times was both subtle and sudden.
King Buffalo
King Buffalo played a short 45-minute set. As any fan would know, that does not give a lot of time for too many songs. To be specific, they played six.
You do not have to do any complicated math to understand King Buffalo play both patiently and purposefully to carve out trippy, psychedelic landscapes. If you close your eyes, which I did, it feels like the music is making you float through warm, green valleys.
They opened with the peppy Hours, which, while a relatively short King Buffalo song, still has several different layers of sounds. King Buffalo is one of those rare bands that has developed their own unique sound/tone and to always expect the unexpected in musical twists and turns.
A seamless transition into Loam took the audience on a deeper tour of the King Buffalo sound and lyrics. At times, the song is soothing and dreamy, and at others it is jarring and menacing. The band owned the audience just halfway through this gem from the album Burden Of Restlessness, as in unison they cheered on the majestic shifts of the band.
The rest of the shortened set was about as diverse as you could get with the limited time, plucking gems that spanned their catalogue, coming to rest with the beautiful Morning Song, in which All Them Witches’ guitar maestro, Ben McLeod, joined the festivities.
Festive. Celebratory. Jubilant. Buoyant.
That is what describes this closer, and truthfully, the entire set. King Buffalo, as they always do, set the bar high for very few bands to jump over.
All Them Witches: “Hold My Beer”
I listen to King Buffalo far more than I do ATW, and generally, the axis of listening to music in this scene is tilted towards the “heavy psych” element, in which King Buffalo reigns with undisputed authority.
Tonight, All Them Witches played at a level that I just did not see coming.
It did not hurt that they walked on stage to a blaring War Pigs, which was probably a still relevant nod to Ozzy with some light tongue-in–cheek association of the word “witches” in the song. If I have to reference the whole line where that word is taken from, then that would be insulting to anyone and everyone who listens to heavy music.
With the energy high as a kite now, All Them Witches packed two of my favourite songs from them in the first fifteen minutes in Diamond and Charles William.
Already, my brain was foreshadowing to me that it might not be able to handle the dopamine that would be firing out of my brain with the ferocity of Walter White’s homemade machine gun that was in the final episode of Breaking Bad.
The totality of all the music that I had witnessed just over one hour in was like the collision of two giant musical galaxies, The Allman Brothers and Pink Floyd. Between Sean McVay of King Buffalo and Ben McLeod of All Them Witches, these men covered all the terrain that one would imagine with such references.
The guitar tones throughout the night were poignant and purposeful–and delivered with a patience that respected the histories of two of the biggest bands of the ’70s.
And, just like with the shared charisma that is King Buffalo, Sean McVay(guitar), Scott Donaldson(drummer), and Ben Reynolds(bassist), ATW’s four-piece outfit demands your attention from every member.
Sure, it is almost impossible not to be summoned to undivided listening attention to the voice of All Them Witches, Charles Michael Parks Jr. It is simply a unique rock voice. We have heard elements of this shamanic style before with Jim Morrison, but Parks sings with less bombast, making the mysticism feel personal and communal.
ATW are a heavy band in that the musical sojourn you embark with them live demands your emotional and spiritual attention–meaning your energy.
Quite easily, one of the heaviest moments came when the band did a stripped-down cover of Red Rocking Chair, an old Appalachian blues song that actually can be dated back to mid-19th-century Scotland. It was just Parks with Van Cleave on fiddle.
The packed History club of several thousand people showed reverence for this by being unbelievably still and quiet. It was a conscious reverence for All Them Witches and probably a subconscious one for the storied history of the song. I felt embarrassed for even having to cough during the performance.
The classic Death Of Coyote Women remained, which sounds like a mini-jam session that could have occurred with Duane Allman, Ray Manzarek, and Nick Mason. And, while I am sure the show might have still been remarkably peaking for many in the audience during this song and the two encores, for me, I was done. I was Rollinsed.
One of the best shows I had seen in my life was not even finished. But I was.
I did a slow and satisfying exit through the doors, smiling and walking by still smiling faces. Do you remember that smile Andy Dufresne had in Shawshank Redemption, sitting on the roof of a building, watching his fellow inmates drink beer? That was me. I did not need to drink any more “beer”.
As I sat outside, drained of all emotions, I could help but think that there is a sizable population out there who has watched Pink Floyd at Pompeii several times, knows every note of the live version of Whipping Post by The Allman Brothers, can wax poetic on the cultural and musical impact of The Doors, and does not need to be told that side one of Yes’s Relayer album is the hypnotic Gates Of Delerium.
And, all too sadly, almost everyone thinks that great music of such quality is dead and died a long time ago.
Early on in my book, I wrote this passage in reference to all the underground music I have consumed over the last four decades:
So as wave after wave after wave of fresh, sonic brilliance began piling up in my already crammed library of rock and roll history, I could only smile and shake my head at the impossible idea that rock was not capable of getting heavier, deeper, wider, wiser, moodier, dreamier, dirtier, hotter, and downright sexier over time. Yes, folks, rock and roll has a license to capture all these emotions. Sorry, Boomers. That license didn’t expire in 1972. Sorry, Gen Xers. It didn’t expire in 1992. As the Ozzy song goes You Can’t Kill Rock And Roll (1981).
And, just when you think there is no hope for the “older” generation appreciating the new generation of rock and roll genius, two men came out about 10 minutes after. They were both in their ’70s. And of course, they came out beaming.
Just like water always finds it level, so does timeless and high quality music in finding an appreciative audience from every generation.
On a quiet Tuesday night in December 2025, the stoner/doom scene proved for the umpteenth time that it is the most vital and vibrant scene of expansive music on the planet. I think it is time to retire that dusty label.
King Buffalo and All Them Witches are simply two of the greatest rock bands in the world. If this was ever up for debate, it certainly is not now.
