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CW: CW: carnivore cookery
After literally months of removing the skin from chicken thighs and stashing it in my freezer, it's time to cook it down for schmaltz and gribenes (rendered chicken fat and cracklings respectively).
#cooking #food #foodie #jewishcuisine #jewish #omnivore #ashkenazi #Mazeldon
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The Infinity Ring – Ataraxia Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
The heart of heavy metal music lives in attitude, one of extreme emotions—sadness, anger, exuberance, catharsis. And in increasing trend, modern practitioners often conjure that spirit through atmosphere, which allows metal-adjacent spaces like goth rock and darkwave to strike a chord with those who typically fall for weepy music of crying guitars and mournful vocals. New England-based The Infinity Ring harbors some of these dark sounds that attract lovers of the downtrodden—twangy and folky guitar refrains, post-rock-like swells in intensity and volume—all wrapped up in a smoky and gravel-filled vocal delivery. So even though Ataraxia isn’t metal,1 despite finding home in oft-metal label Profound Lore, its sorrowful swagger threatens to stimulate the same shout and simmer all the same.
With a gothic allure and a somber, neofolk-y expression, Ataraxia carves a path down weeping corridors with a stinging chamber folk ambience and swelling post-rock trajectory. Most importantly, though, The Infinity Ring’s narrative finds the comfort of low, crackling fire on a chilly night in the gravely mic antics of band leader and guitarist Cameron Moretti. His gruff croon and low distortion twang bring to mind the noir character of Nick Cave with the patience and weathered exhale of late Leonard Cohen works. And a sense of intimacy pervades his brooding incantations, with high gain recordings providing a crackle and tickle—a comfort similar to what some find in ASMR recordings. But though the timbre and dripping legato of Moretti’s poetry may wrap like a scratchy blanket on a cold night, its words often ring more harrowing and downcast.
Whether you fall prey to Moretti’s somber lull will still fall in line with whether the stripped and screaming chamber instrumentation provides an interesting enough base. From Ataraxia’s wistful introduction of violin swirling in post-crescendo denouement (“Obsidian”) to its close through the understated swell of fragile piano guidance and drowning string ambience (“The Archway”), the focus of hazy backings and hypnotic refrains drives the primary tether. It takes until the first drum rolls of “Elysium,” about ten minutes into the album, before a sense of classic swinging movement takes hold, and even the lilting rhythmic framework sways against a post-rock guitar gathering, distant clanging bells, and bowed crescendo. And while The Infinity Ring again finds this kind of tempo-pushing jog in “The Drum,” a majority of Ataraxia exists in a chamber-adjacent space that prizes the exploration of atmosphere and texture.
Yet, for an album that exists in this compositionally softer realm, Ataraxia plays less with intense dynamics and more with a focused loudness. As a vocal-forward affair, Moretti’s reverberating croons and scowls take center stage, their higher presence sitting above the fog of acoustic plonks and muted chamber underlays. Whether it’s against the plonky lead of piano (“Nightingale,” “The Archway”), across a Wovenhand-esque strum and kick and rim clack strut (“Hymn,” “The Drum”), or amidst a looping fuzz and minimalist progression (“Revenge,” “The Window”), bassy, breath-heavy murmurings ripple and pulse and pull along these distant soundscapes. Silence as a setup, like an inhale, still finds a place in the quiet-to-calamitous post-rock aura that The Infinity Ring wears at base. But also, like breath, a natural rise and fall defines Ataraxia’s pace, its closing message of “The Archway” embodying that swift, tidal tempo.
As a journey of serene discomfort, Ataraxia walks softly bug neglects to carry that big, bombastic stick. The Infinity Ring, sticking to a diverse sonic palette to achieve its moody goals, functions as a hard-to-quantify collective of unique and thought-out sounds. Walking in a long line of attitude-based artists like Lou Reed and Tom Waits, the path that The Infinity Ring has chosen is weird, entrancing, and, above all, rich with sonic delight. So with Ataraxia, the journey is the destination. And when the mood strikes, The Infinity Ring proves a hard act to ignore.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records | Bandcamp
Websites: theinfinityring.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/theinfinityring
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025#2025 #35 #Ataraxia #ChamberMusic #Darkwave #GothicRock #LeonardCohen #LouReed #Mar25 #NickCave #PostRock #ProfoundLoreRecords #Review #Reviews #TheInfinityRing #Wovenhand
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The Infinity Ring – Ataraxia Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
The heart of heavy metal music lives in attitude, one of extreme emotions—sadness, anger, exuberance, catharsis. And in increasing trend, modern practitioners often conjure that spirit through atmosphere, which allows metal-adjacent spaces like goth rock and darkwave to strike a chord with those who typically fall for weepy music of crying guitars and mournful vocals. New England-based The Infinity Ring harbors some of these dark sounds that attract lovers of the downtrodden—twangy and folky guitar refrains, post-rock-like swells in intensity and volume—all wrapped up in a smoky and gravel-filled vocal delivery. So even though Ataraxia isn’t metal,1 despite finding home in oft-metal label Profound Lore, its sorrowful swagger threatens to stimulate the same shout and simmer all the same.
With a gothic allure and a somber, neofolk-y expression, Ataraxia carves a path down weeping corridors with a stinging chamber folk ambience and swelling post-rock trajectory. Most importantly, though, The Infinity Ring’s narrative finds the comfort of low, crackling fire on a chilly night in the gravely mic antics of band leader and guitarist Cameron Moretti. His gruff croon and low distortion twang bring to mind the noir character of Nick Cave with the patience and weathered exhale of late Leonard Cohen works. And a sense of intimacy pervades his brooding incantations, with high gain recordings providing a crackle and tickle—a comfort similar to what some find in ASMR recordings. But though the timbre and dripping legato of Moretti’s poetry may wrap like a scratchy blanket on a cold night, its words often ring more harrowing and downcast.
Whether you fall prey to Moretti’s somber lull will still fall in line with whether the stripped and screaming chamber instrumentation provides an interesting enough base. From Ataraxia’s wistful introduction of violin swirling in post-crescendo denouement (“Obsidian”) to its close through the understated swell of fragile piano guidance and drowning string ambience (“The Archway”), the focus of hazy backings and hypnotic refrains drives the primary tether. It takes until the first drum rolls of “Elysium,” about ten minutes into the album, before a sense of classic swinging movement takes hold, and even the lilting rhythmic framework sways against a post-rock guitar gathering, distant clanging bells, and bowed crescendo. And while The Infinity Ring again finds this kind of tempo-pushing jog in “The Drum,” a majority of Ataraxia exists in a chamber-adjacent space that prizes the exploration of atmosphere and texture.
Yet, for an album that exists in this compositionally softer realm, Ataraxia plays less with intense dynamics and more with a focused loudness. As a vocal-forward affair, Moretti’s reverberating croons and scowls take center stage, their higher presence sitting above the fog of acoustic plonks and muted chamber underlays. Whether it’s against the plonky lead of piano (“Nightingale,” “The Archway”), across a Wovenhand-esque strum and kick and rim clack strut (“Hymn,” “The Drum”), or amidst a looping fuzz and minimalist progression (“Revenge,” “The Window”), bassy, breath-heavy murmurings ripple and pulse and pull along these distant soundscapes. Silence as a setup, like an inhale, still finds a place in the quiet-to-calamitous post-rock aura that The Infinity Ring wears at base. But also, like breath, a natural rise and fall defines Ataraxia’s pace, its closing message of “The Archway” embodying that swift, tidal tempo.
As a journey of serene discomfort, Ataraxia walks softly bug neglects to carry that big, bombastic stick. The Infinity Ring, sticking to a diverse sonic palette to achieve its moody goals, functions as a hard-to-quantify collective of unique and thought-out sounds. Walking in a long line of attitude-based artists like Lou Reed and Tom Waits, the path that The Infinity Ring has chosen is weird, entrancing, and, above all, rich with sonic delight. So with Ataraxia, the journey is the destination. And when the mood strikes, The Infinity Ring proves a hard act to ignore.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records | Bandcamp
Websites: theinfinityring.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/theinfinityring
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025#2025 #35 #Ataraxia #ChamberMusic #Darkwave #GothicRock #LeonardCohen #LouReed #Mar25 #NickCave #PostRock #ProfoundLoreRecords #Review #Reviews #TheInfinityRing #Wovenhand
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The Infinity Ring – Ataraxia Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
The heart of heavy metal music lives in attitude, one of extreme emotions—sadness, anger, exuberance, catharsis. And in increasing trend, modern practitioners often conjure that spirit through atmosphere, which allows metal-adjacent spaces like goth rock and darkwave to strike a chord with those who typically fall for weepy music of crying guitars and mournful vocals. New England-based The Infinity Ring harbors some of these dark sounds that attract lovers of the downtrodden—twangy and folky guitar refrains, post-rock-like swells in intensity and volume—all wrapped up in a smoky and gravel-filled vocal delivery. So even though Ataraxia isn’t metal,1 despite finding home in oft-metal label Profound Lore, its sorrowful swagger threatens to stimulate the same shout and simmer all the same.
With a gothic allure and a somber, neofolk-y expression, Ataraxia carves a path down weeping corridors with a stinging chamber folk ambience and swelling post-rock trajectory. Most importantly, though, The Infinity Ring’s narrative finds the comfort of low, crackling fire on a chilly night in the gravely mic antics of band leader and guitarist Cameron Moretti. His gruff croon and low distortion twang bring to mind the noir character of Nick Cave with the patience and weathered exhale of late Leonard Cohen works. And a sense of intimacy pervades his brooding incantations, with high gain recordings providing a crackle and tickle—a comfort similar to what some find in ASMR recordings. But though the timbre and dripping legato of Moretti’s poetry may wrap like a scratchy blanket on a cold night, its words often ring more harrowing and downcast.
Whether you fall prey to Moretti’s somber lull will still fall in line with whether the stripped and screaming chamber instrumentation provides an interesting enough base. From Ataraxia’s wistful introduction of violin swirling in post-crescendo denouement (“Obsidian”) to its close through the understated swell of fragile piano guidance and drowning string ambience (“The Archway”), the focus of hazy backings and hypnotic refrains drives the primary tether. It takes until the first drum rolls of “Elysium,” about ten minutes into the album, before a sense of classic swinging movement takes hold, and even the lilting rhythmic framework sways against a post-rock guitar gathering, distant clanging bells, and bowed crescendo. And while The Infinity Ring again finds this kind of tempo-pushing jog in “The Drum,” a majority of Ataraxia exists in a chamber-adjacent space that prizes the exploration of atmosphere and texture.
Yet, for an album that exists in this compositionally softer realm, Ataraxia plays less with intense dynamics and more with a focused loudness. As a vocal-forward affair, Moretti’s reverberating croons and scowls take center stage, their higher presence sitting above the fog of acoustic plonks and muted chamber underlays. Whether it’s against the plonky lead of piano (“Nightingale,” “The Archway”), across a Wovenhand-esque strum and kick and rim clack strut (“Hymn,” “The Drum”), or amidst a looping fuzz and minimalist progression (“Revenge,” “The Window”), bassy, breath-heavy murmurings ripple and pulse and pull along these distant soundscapes. Silence as a setup, like an inhale, still finds a place in the quiet-to-calamitous post-rock aura that The Infinity Ring wears at base. But also, like breath, a natural rise and fall defines Ataraxia’s pace, its closing message of “The Archway” embodying that swift, tidal tempo.
As a journey of serene discomfort, Ataraxia walks softly bug neglects to carry that big, bombastic stick. The Infinity Ring, sticking to a diverse sonic palette to achieve its moody goals, functions as a hard-to-quantify collective of unique and thought-out sounds. Walking in a long line of attitude-based artists like Lou Reed and Tom Waits, the path that The Infinity Ring has chosen is weird, entrancing, and, above all, rich with sonic delight. So with Ataraxia, the journey is the destination. And when the mood strikes, The Infinity Ring proves a hard act to ignore.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records | Bandcamp
Websites: theinfinityring.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/theinfinityring
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025#2025 #35 #Ataraxia #ChamberMusic #Darkwave #GothicRock #LeonardCohen #LouReed #Mar25 #NickCave #PostRock #ProfoundLoreRecords #Review #Reviews #TheInfinityRing #Wovenhand
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The Infinity Ring – Ataraxia Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
The heart of heavy metal music lives in attitude, one of extreme emotions—sadness, anger, exuberance, catharsis. And in increasing trend, modern practitioners often conjure that spirit through atmosphere, which allows metal-adjacent spaces like goth rock and darkwave to strike a chord with those who typically fall for weepy music of crying guitars and mournful vocals. New England-based The Infinity Ring harbors some of these dark sounds that attract lovers of the downtrodden—twangy and folky guitar refrains, post-rock-like swells in intensity and volume—all wrapped up in a smoky and gravel-filled vocal delivery. So even though Ataraxia isn’t metal,1 despite finding home in oft-metal label Profound Lore, its sorrowful swagger threatens to stimulate the same shout and simmer all the same.
With a gothic allure and a somber, neofolk-y expression, Ataraxia carves a path down weeping corridors with a stinging chamber folk ambience and swelling post-rock trajectory. Most importantly, though, The Infinity Ring’s narrative finds the comfort of low, crackling fire on a chilly night in the gravely mic antics of band leader and guitarist Cameron Moretti. His gruff croon and low distortion twang bring to mind the noir character of Nick Cave with the patience and weathered exhale of late Leonard Cohen works. And a sense of intimacy pervades his brooding incantations, with high gain recordings providing a crackle and tickle—a comfort similar to what some find in ASMR recordings. But though the timbre and dripping legato of Moretti’s poetry may wrap like a scratchy blanket on a cold night, its words often ring more harrowing and downcast.
Whether you fall prey to Moretti’s somber lull will still fall in line with whether the stripped and screaming chamber instrumentation provides an interesting enough base. From Ataraxia’s wistful introduction of violin swirling in post-crescendo denouement (“Obsidian”) to its close through the understated swell of fragile piano guidance and drowning string ambience (“The Archway”), the focus of hazy backings and hypnotic refrains drives the primary tether. It takes until the first drum rolls of “Elysium,” about ten minutes into the album, before a sense of classic swinging movement takes hold, and even the lilting rhythmic framework sways against a post-rock guitar gathering, distant clanging bells, and bowed crescendo. And while The Infinity Ring again finds this kind of tempo-pushing jog in “The Drum,” a majority of Ataraxia exists in a chamber-adjacent space that prizes the exploration of atmosphere and texture.
Yet, for an album that exists in this compositionally softer realm, Ataraxia plays less with intense dynamics and more with a focused loudness. As a vocal-forward affair, Moretti’s reverberating croons and scowls take center stage, their higher presence sitting above the fog of acoustic plonks and muted chamber underlays. Whether it’s against the plonky lead of piano (“Nightingale,” “The Archway”), across a Wovenhand-esque strum and kick and rim clack strut (“Hymn,” “The Drum”), or amidst a looping fuzz and minimalist progression (“Revenge,” “The Window”), bassy, breath-heavy murmurings ripple and pulse and pull along these distant soundscapes. Silence as a setup, like an inhale, still finds a place in the quiet-to-calamitous post-rock aura that The Infinity Ring wears at base. But also, like breath, a natural rise and fall defines Ataraxia’s pace, its closing message of “The Archway” embodying that swift, tidal tempo.
As a journey of serene discomfort, Ataraxia walks softly bug neglects to carry that big, bombastic stick. The Infinity Ring, sticking to a diverse sonic palette to achieve its moody goals, functions as a hard-to-quantify collective of unique and thought-out sounds. Walking in a long line of attitude-based artists like Lou Reed and Tom Waits, the path that The Infinity Ring has chosen is weird, entrancing, and, above all, rich with sonic delight. So with Ataraxia, the journey is the destination. And when the mood strikes, The Infinity Ring proves a hard act to ignore.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records | Bandcamp
Websites: theinfinityring.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/theinfinityring
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025#2025 #35 #Ataraxia #ChamberMusic #Darkwave #GothicRock #LeonardCohen #LouReed #Mar25 #NickCave #PostRock #ProfoundLoreRecords #Review #Reviews #TheInfinityRing #Wovenhand
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Enjoying "My Best Friend's Exorcism" with a crackling fire on the deck. #decklife
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Enjoying "My Best Friend's Exorcism" with a crackling fire on the deck. #decklife
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Enjoying "My Best Friend's Exorcism" with a crackling fire on the deck. #decklife
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Enjoying "My Best Friend's Exorcism" with a crackling fire on the deck. #decklife
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On a more cheerful note, @ChrisMayLA6 suggested Little Sunflower by Cayenne as his final selection for his #JazzIntro listing. I could only find it on YouTube, but it sounded interesting so I splurged a tenner on a vinyl copy.
It arrived this afternoon; needed a bit of a clean to get rid of some crackling, but that's no problem.
It's a good wee LP, I think well produced/engineered; and fortunately, The Postie agrees. Now playing side two for her listening entertainment... 😉Ta ProfDJ!
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On a more cheerful note, @ChrisMayLA6 suggested Little Sunflower by Cayenne as his final selection for his #JazzIntro listing. I could only find it on YouTube, but it sounded interesting so I splurged a tenner on a vinyl copy.
It arrived this afternoon; needed a bit of a clean to get rid of some crackling, but that's no problem.
It's a good wee LP, I think well produced/engineered; and fortunately, The Postie agrees. Now playing side two for her listening entertainment... 😉Ta ProfDJ!
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On a more cheerful note, @ChrisMayLA6 suggested Little Sunflower by Cayenne as his final selection for his #JazzIntro listing. I could only find it on YouTube, but it sounded interesting so I splurged a tenner on a vinyl copy.
It arrived this afternoon; needed a bit of a clean to get rid of some crackling, but that's no problem.
It's a good wee LP, I think well produced/engineered; and fortunately, The Postie agrees. Now playing side two for her listening entertainment... 😉Ta ProfDJ!
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On a more cheerful note, @ChrisMayLA6 suggested Little Sunflower by Cayenne as his final selection for his #JazzIntro listing. I could only find it on YouTube, but it sounded interesting so I splurged a tenner on a vinyl copy.
It arrived this afternoon; needed a bit of a clean to get rid of some crackling, but that's no problem.
It's a good wee LP, I think well produced/engineered; and fortunately, The Postie agrees. Now playing side two for her listening entertainment... 😉Ta ProfDJ!
-
On a more cheerful note, @ChrisMayLA6 suggested Little Sunflower by Cayenne as his final selection for his #JazzIntro listing. I could only find it on YouTube, but it sounded interesting so I splurged a tenner on a vinyl copy.
It arrived this afternoon; needed a bit of a clean to get rid of some crackling, but that's no problem.
It's a good wee LP, I think well produced/engineered; and fortunately, The Postie agrees. Now playing side two for her listening entertainment... 😉Ta ProfDJ!
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Panopticon – Laurentian Blue Review
By Mystikus Hugebeard
With the mammoth1 Panopticon ranking and the electrifying Månegarm review behind us, we can now look towards the album that the ranking was made in anticipation of: Laurentian Blue. What we weren’t quite expecting was that Laurentian Blue would be an unusual album to follow the ranking. After ten albums of post-black metal, this is the first standalone Panopticon work of purely dark, folksy Americana.2 It goes without saying that Americana has ever been a key component to the Panopticon soundscape, so do not mistake “unusual” for “unwelcome.” After all, Laurentian Blue is unquestionably a Panopticon album, for it embodies the same soul of Panopticon’s music that Thus Spoke eloquently illuminated in her introduction to the ranking: “an immense sense of drama, emotional intensity, and an unpretentious, honest heart.”
Not only is Laurentian Blue a dark folk/americana album, it is unapologetic about it. Laurentian Blue is confidently written and deliberate in its minimalism. The instrumentation is kept strictly to the bare necessities: Lunn picks and strums away at his guitar as he sings with the warmth of a crackling fire, with sparse, harmonizing violins as accompaniment. The consecutive exceptions come in the twang of “An Argument with God” (which is also the only song with any percussion) and the bluegrass “Irony and Causality,” which serve as welcome jolts to the pacing, but the bulk of Laurentian Blue is the sort of somber Americana in “Ever North” and “This Mortal Coil’s Rusted.” It reminds one of the Appalachia iteration of Osi and the Jupiter, with a stronger country lilt heard most clearly in “Down Along the Border.” While the guitarwork in Laurentian Blue is enjoyable, whether it takes the form of wistful melodies (“The Poetry in Roadkill”) or steely strumming (“Ever North,”) the focus cannot help but rest on Lunn’s voice and lyrical work.
As always, Lunn is a commanding songwriter fluent in the emotions he wants a song to convey. Nary a note or a word wasted, cutting straight to the heart of what he wants to express. Laurentian Blue is resolute in its deeply depressive lyricism, which becomes inescapable due to the music’s minimalist nature.3 Lines like “And if I needed you to watch me slip away // I’ll find you on the other side some day” (“Down Along the Border”) and “the lie that I forced myself to believe // that I never wasted a breath…” (“Ever North”) carry a catharsis that engulfs you, further strengthened by the preternaturally well-timed violins. Sparse though they may be, they’re beautifully implemented, often swelling at just the right moment like in the chorus of “The Poetry of Roadkill.” With focus this unhindered, lyrics that fail to connect are a greater danger to a song’s impact. The Hemingway-esque bluntness of “And morality ain’t dogmatic // but instead practical // and an individual // type of thing” is compelling, but it lacks the poetry present in the rest of the album, and the accompanying music doesn’t sustain the six-minute runtime.
Through the poetic lyrical work and musical minimalism, Laurentian Blue is emotionally consistent, yet therein lies what also makes it a more challenging album. Lunn’s voice is kept adamantly deadpan throughout, indifferently asking you to engage with Laurentian Blue according to its own terms rather than manipulating your emotions. This can create a disconnect; as the violins swell and the notes ascend when Lunn sings the first “Look for me // ever north,” (“Ever North”), I selfishly feel unfulfilled when the notes dispassionately descend in the second. Other times, his singing style makes for some compelling friction. “Irony and Causality” is easily the most energetic song, and is a fascinating backdrop for the deadpan delivery of “Nothing matters when you die // you can only hope time flies // and someone will visit your grave.” Maintaining such a somber tone across the album is a deliberate choice, one that works through Lunn’s songwriting finesse. But it’s a sadness that’s more aptly felt when you’re already predisposed to such feelings.
Laurentian Blue will not be for everyone. It’s a singular emotional work that doesn’t guide your feelings, but rather presents its own emotions with understated grace and indifference. But it’s only natural that the appeal of a work this personal will ultimately come down to personal preference. Regardless of one’s taste for Americana and dark folk, Laurentian Blue is nevertheless a well-written collection of songs by a well-proven songwriter with a strong connection and understanding of the genre. You might need to be in the right mood for Laurentian Blue, but if that mood should find you, then Laurentian Blue will be a knowing, empathetic embrace.
Rating: Very Good
DR: 12 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Americana #Aug25 #BindruneRecordings #Country #DarkFolk #LaurentianBlue #Panopticon #Review #Reviews
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Panopticon – Laurentian Blue Review
By Mystikus Hugebeard
With the mammoth1 Panopticon ranking and the electrifying Månegarm review behind us, we can now look towards the album that the ranking was made in anticipation of: Laurentian Blue. What we weren’t quite expecting was that Laurentian Blue would be an unusual album to follow the ranking. After ten albums of post-black metal, this is the first standalone Panopticon work of purely dark, folksy Americana.2 It goes without saying that Americana has ever been a key component to the Panopticon soundscape, so do not mistake “unusual” for “unwelcome.” After all, Laurentian Blue is unquestionably a Panopticon album, for it embodies the same soul of Panopticon’s music that Thus Spoke eloquently illuminated in her introduction to the ranking: “an immense sense of drama, emotional intensity, and an unpretentious, honest heart.”
Not only is Laurentian Blue a dark folk/americana album, it is unapologetic about it. Laurentian Blue is confidently written and deliberate in its minimalism. The instrumentation is kept strictly to the bare necessities: Lunn picks and strums away at his guitar as he sings with the warmth of a crackling fire, with sparse, harmonizing violins as accompaniment. The consecutive exceptions come in the twang of “An Argument with God” (which is also the only song with any percussion) and the bluegrass “Irony and Causality,” which serve as welcome jolts to the pacing, but the bulk of Laurentian Blue is the sort of somber Americana in “Ever North” and “This Mortal Coil’s Rusted.” It reminds one of the Appalachia iteration of Osi and the Jupiter, with a stronger country lilt heard most clearly in “Down Along the Border.” While the guitarwork in Laurentian Blue is enjoyable, whether it takes the form of wistful melodies (“The Poetry in Roadkill”) or steely strumming (“Ever North,”) the focus cannot help but rest on Lunn’s voice and lyrical work.
As always, Lunn is a commanding songwriter fluent in the emotions he wants a song to convey. Nary a note or a word wasted, cutting straight to the heart of what he wants to express. Laurentian Blue is resolute in its deeply depressive lyricism, which becomes inescapable due to the music’s minimalist nature.3 Lines like “And if I needed you to watch me slip away // I’ll find you on the other side some day” (“Down Along the Border”) and “the lie that I forced myself to believe // that I never wasted a breath…” (“Ever North”) carry a catharsis that engulfs you, further strengthened by the preternaturally well-timed violins. Sparse though they may be, they’re beautifully implemented, often swelling at just the right moment like in the chorus of “The Poetry of Roadkill.” With focus this unhindered, lyrics that fail to connect are a greater danger to a song’s impact. The Hemingway-esque bluntness of “And morality ain’t dogmatic // but instead practical // and an individual // type of thing” is compelling, but it lacks the poetry present in the rest of the album, and the accompanying music doesn’t sustain the six-minute runtime.
Through the poetic lyrical work and musical minimalism, Laurentian Blue is emotionally consistent, yet therein lies what also makes it a more challenging album. Lunn’s voice is kept adamantly deadpan throughout, indifferently asking you to engage with Laurentian Blue according to its own terms rather than manipulating your emotions. This can create a disconnect; as the violins swell and the notes ascend when Lunn sings the first “Look for me // ever north,” (“Ever North”), I selfishly feel unfulfilled when the notes dispassionately descend in the second. Other times, his singing style makes for some compelling friction. “Irony and Causality” is easily the most energetic song, and is a fascinating backdrop for the deadpan delivery of “Nothing matters when you die // you can only hope time flies // and someone will visit your grave.” Maintaining such a somber tone across the album is a deliberate choice, one that works through Lunn’s songwriting finesse. But it’s a sadness that’s more aptly felt when you’re already predisposed to such feelings.
Laurentian Blue will not be for everyone. It’s a singular emotional work that doesn’t guide your feelings, but rather presents its own emotions with understated grace and indifference. But it’s only natural that the appeal of a work this personal will ultimately come down to personal preference. Regardless of one’s taste for Americana and dark folk, Laurentian Blue is nevertheless a well-written collection of songs by a well-proven songwriter with a strong connection and understanding of the genre. You might need to be in the right mood for Laurentian Blue, but if that mood should find you, then Laurentian Blue will be a knowing, empathetic embrace.
Rating: Very Good
DR: 12 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Americana #Aug25 #BindruneRecordings #Country #DarkFolk #LaurentianBlue #Panopticon #Review #Reviews
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Panopticon – Laurentian Blue Review
By Mystikus Hugebeard
With the mammoth1 Panopticon ranking and the electrifying Månegarm review behind us, we can now look towards the album that the ranking was made in anticipation of: Laurentian Blue. What we weren’t quite expecting was that Laurentian Blue would be an unusual album to follow the ranking. After ten albums of post-black metal, this is the first standalone Panopticon work of purely dark, folksy Americana.2 It goes without saying that Americana has ever been a key component to the Panopticon soundscape, so do not mistake “unusual” for “unwelcome.” After all, Laurentian Blue is unquestionably a Panopticon album, for it embodies the same soul of Panopticon’s music that Thus Spoke eloquently illuminated in her introduction to the ranking: “an immense sense of drama, emotional intensity, and an unpretentious, honest heart.”
Not only is Laurentian Blue a dark folk/americana album, it is unapologetic about it. Laurentian Blue is confidently written and deliberate in its minimalism. The instrumentation is kept strictly to the bare necessities: Lunn picks and strums away at his guitar as he sings with the warmth of a crackling fire, with sparse, harmonizing violins as accompaniment. The consecutive exceptions come in the twang of “An Argument with God” (which is also the only song with any percussion) and the bluegrass “Irony and Causality,” which serve as welcome jolts to the pacing, but the bulk of Laurentian Blue is the sort of somber Americana in “Ever North” and “This Mortal Coil’s Rusted.” It reminds one of the Appalachia iteration of Osi and the Jupiter, with a stronger country lilt heard most clearly in “Down Along the Border.” While the guitarwork in Laurentian Blue is enjoyable, whether it takes the form of wistful melodies (“The Poetry in Roadkill”) or steely strumming (“Ever North,”) the focus cannot help but rest on Lunn’s voice and lyrical work.
As always, Lunn is a commanding songwriter fluent in the emotions he wants a song to convey. Nary a note or a word wasted, cutting straight to the heart of what he wants to express. Laurentian Blue is resolute in its deeply depressive lyricism, which becomes inescapable due to the music’s minimalist nature.3 Lines like “And if I needed you to watch me slip away // I’ll find you on the other side some day” (“Down Along the Border”) and “the lie that I forced myself to believe // that I never wasted a breath…” (“Ever North”) carry a catharsis that engulfs you, further strengthened by the preternaturally well-timed violins. Sparse though they may be, they’re beautifully implemented, often swelling at just the right moment like in the chorus of “The Poetry of Roadkill.” With focus this unhindered, lyrics that fail to connect are a greater danger to a song’s impact. The Hemingway-esque bluntness of “And morality ain’t dogmatic // but instead practical // and an individual // type of thing” is compelling, but it lacks the poetry present in the rest of the album, and the accompanying music doesn’t sustain the six-minute runtime.
Through the poetic lyrical work and musical minimalism, Laurentian Blue is emotionally consistent, yet therein lies what also makes it a more challenging album. Lunn’s voice is kept adamantly deadpan throughout, indifferently asking you to engage with Laurentian Blue according to its own terms rather than manipulating your emotions. This can create a disconnect; as the violins swell and the notes ascend when Lunn sings the first “Look for me // ever north,” (“Ever North”), I selfishly feel unfulfilled when the notes dispassionately descend in the second. Other times, his singing style makes for some compelling friction. “Irony and Causality” is easily the most energetic song, and is a fascinating backdrop for the deadpan delivery of “Nothing matters when you die // you can only hope time flies // and someone will visit your grave.” Maintaining such a somber tone across the album is a deliberate choice, one that works through Lunn’s songwriting finesse. But it’s a sadness that’s more aptly felt when you’re already predisposed to such feelings.
Laurentian Blue will not be for everyone. It’s a singular emotional work that doesn’t guide your feelings, but rather presents its own emotions with understated grace and indifference. But it’s only natural that the appeal of a work this personal will ultimately come down to personal preference. Regardless of one’s taste for Americana and dark folk, Laurentian Blue is nevertheless a well-written collection of songs by a well-proven songwriter with a strong connection and understanding of the genre. You might need to be in the right mood for Laurentian Blue, but if that mood should find you, then Laurentian Blue will be a knowing, empathetic embrace.
Rating: Very Good
DR: 12 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Americana #Aug25 #BindruneRecordings #Country #DarkFolk #LaurentianBlue #Panopticon #Review #Reviews
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#tek##望周知##洼体力淆##瓦房店化# 花了一个中午解决了Thinkpad x1 的3.5mm耳机孔杂音问题。搜索了各大国外论坛，发现这是一个thinkpad系列长久存在的问题，可能是由驱动冲突（更新驱动，更新或者不更新win10），与无线模块的供电冲突（调整无线模块供电优先级），BIOS冲突等不同原因造成的（刷新BIOS）。而且这个问题随着win10版本的更新不断反复出现（我们显然已经知道了win10的品控已经下降到咖喱水准），所以每台机器都有可能卡在他自己的那个怪奇点上。我的机器就是以上全部都无效，后来我逛一个英文的lenovo论坛，找到一个老哥把这个问题全总结了一遍
https://forums.lenovo.com/t5/ThinkPad-X-Series-Laptops/THINKPAD-X1-EXTREME-G1-HEADPHONE-JACK-CRACKLING-NOISE-HORROR/td-p/4338254 然后下面有一个回答就是说直接把realtek针对高级音频技术（包括杜比音效等一系列增强技术）的驱动给卸载。我试了下真的有效！艹！看来lenove给它的机器默认配的realtek的驱动这种精细玩意根本无法在win10灾难性的品控和thinkpad系列无法阻止的瓦房店化过程中保持鲁棒性。现在我就直接退回到win10自带的HD audio驱动（你安装的时候它还会提醒你“不推荐该驱动”窝艹尼〇），所有问题都消失了。我在这个问题上最起码消耗了数十个小时，还冤大头地买了新的高端耳机线（两百多）。窝艹尼〇微卵和联想。结论：2019年后的thinkpad x1产品线也不在可靠了。是时候move on了。 -
After a long break, and inspired by @stojg's recent pâte fermentée adventures, I have taking up regular baking again. Here's a snap of today's freshly baked pane casereccio (bread of the house) ... the crust was still crackling as I took this photo. I used a blend of mixed grain and strong white flour to bake this loaf, loosely based on a 'no knead' recipe from American baker Suzanne Dunaway.
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After a long break, and inspired by @stojg's recent pâte fermentée adventures, I have taking up regular baking again. Here's a snap of today's freshly baked pane casereccio (bread of the house) ... the crust was still crackling as I took this photo. I used a blend of mixed grain and strong white flour to bake this loaf, loosely based on a 'no knead' recipe from American baker Suzanne Dunaway.
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After a long break, and inspired by @stojg's recent pâte fermentée adventures, I have taking up regular baking again. Here's a snap of today's freshly baked pane casereccio (bread of the house) ... the crust was still crackling as I took this photo. I used a blend of mixed grain and strong white flour to bake this loaf, loosely based on a 'no knead' recipe from American baker Suzanne Dunaway.
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North: CHESTNUT
crackling of the fire
roasting #chestnuts over coals
a winter dessertSouth: PASTORAL
#pastoral meadow
the earth warms and the snow melts
spring is almost here -
North: CHESTNUT
crackling of the fire
roasting #chestnuts over coals
a winter dessertSouth: PASTORAL
#pastoral meadow
the earth warms and the snow melts
spring is almost here -
North: CHESTNUT
crackling of the fire
roasting #chestnuts over coals
a winter dessertSouth: PASTORAL
#pastoral meadow
the earth warms and the snow melts
spring is almost here -
North: CHESTNUT
crackling of the fire
roasting #chestnuts over coals
a winter dessertSouth: PASTORAL
#pastoral meadow
the earth warms and the snow melts
spring is almost here -
Just checked back & found I last started a course of prednisolone on 2 November. So I've had less than 6 weeks clear lungs. And judging by the fact that I've been awake for 2 hours now with the lungs crackling, I suspect I'll need to start again VERY soon. Bugger. #prednisolone #Asthma
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Just checked back & found I last started a course of prednisolone on 2 November. So I've had less than 6 weeks clear lungs. And judging by the fact that I've been awake for 2 hours now with the lungs crackling, I suspect I'll need to start again VERY soon. Bugger. #prednisolone #Asthma
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Just checked back & found I last started a course of prednisolone on 2 November. So I've had less than 6 weeks clear lungs. And judging by the fact that I've been awake for 2 hours now with the lungs crackling, I suspect I'll need to start again VERY soon. Bugger. #prednisolone #Asthma
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Kanonenfieber – Die Urkatastrophe Review
By Carcharodon
When I wrote up Menschenmühle, the debut full-length by Germany’s Kanonenfieber, in late 2021, I described it as “stunning.” The storytelling arc that it achieves, opening with the almost enthusiastic bombast of the early days of the Great War, through to the exhausted horror of No Man’s Land, is incredible. Cast in shades of blackened death metal, I ended up crowning it my Album of the Year, calling it a “masterpiece.” So how does one write the follow-up to a masterpiece? When I sat down with anonymous Kanonenfieber mastermind1 Noise in 2023, I asked. He admitted to “having some struggles […] I don’t know, I’ve written the album four times over now but somehow, I just don’t like any of it.” Scroll forward a year and I finally got my sweaty little fanboy fins on Die Urkatastrophe. Did Noise get through his struggles to produce a worthy successor to Menschenmühle?
Like its predecessor, Die Urkatastrophe (which translates as something like “The Original Disaster”) focuses on the tragedies of the Great War, taking its inspiration from reports, letters, and other documents created by the soldiers who fought in that conflagration. It is uncompromising and brutal. Whether it’s the tale of the suicidal member of a mining team, tunneling under the front (“Der Maulwurf”)2 or the grinding battle that saw Austria-Hungary retake Lviv / Lemberg from the Russians (“Lviv zu Lemberg”), there’s an almost frantic energy to Kanonenfieber that is both vicious and beautiful. Simultaneously heavier and more melodic than what went before, Die Urkatastrophe flits between taking in the whole, awful scale of the War, panning across its fronts (“Gott mit der Kavallerie”), while at others zooming in on specific horrors (“Verdun” and its counterpart “Ausblutungsschlacht” ).
Kanonenfieber has developed an immediately identifiable sound and sense of individuality that sets it apart from the many reference points I could cite. Sure, the likes of Bolt Thrower and 1914 still feature strongly in Kanonenfieber’s work but Die Urkatastrophe is much more diverse. A blackened thrash edge creeps into Skeletonwitch territory in places (“Gott mit der Kavallerie”), while “Panzerhenker” and “Waffenbrüder” (the latter featuring Maik Weichert of Heaven Shall Burn) draw Kvaen into the mix. The infectiously catchy “Ritter der Lüfte” evokes Panzerfaust. While all those references and more are valid, the truth is that from Noise’s razorwire rasps and snarling growls—now expanded to include funeral doom-esque roars (“Panzerhenker”)—to his crystalline tremolos and killer death riffs, Kanonenfieber is now a touchstone in its own right. Part of what makes that true, and what distinguished Menschenmühle, is the skillful incorporation of samples and original recordings. These give Kanonenfieber the weight of authenticity, which is taken to the next level on Die Urkatastrophe. The threads of its stories of bloodshed, death, and despair are tied together by perfectly integrated battlefield effects and spoken word pieces, which feel organic and an integral—even essential—part of the whole. The tension built into opener “Grossmachtfantasie,” as the first rumbling riffs rise beneath a crackling recording is enough to give me goosebumps.
Noise’s vocal performance, already a selling point previously, is the strongest he’s ever given. This is amplified by the multi-tracking deployed across the record, as well as adornments, like the choral backing vocals on “Ausblutungsschlacht,” giving its ending an appropriately grand, symphonic feeling, as it details the slaughter at Verdun. As ever, the production is fantastic, although on this occasion Noise had assistance from Kristin Kohle of Kohlekeller Studio. The stellar guitar tone is hard to put into words. Whether it is the tremolo assault of “Menschenmühle” or the gorgeous percussion-free lament two-thirds of the way into “Lviv zu Lemberg” (recalling “Die Schlacht bei Tannenberg” from the previous album), the sound is organic and effortless, like a blackened Opeth in their heyday. The bass is also much more prominent in the mix, which is welcome, adding richness to the sound. My single critical comment is that Kanonenfieber tried to repeat a trick from the last album, ending with an acoustic semi-ballad. However, for me at least, Noise comes up very slightly short here. “Verscharrt und Ungerühmt” from Menschenmühle was lightning in a bottle; it tore out my heart and stamped it into the blood-soaked mud. Here, “Als die Waffen kamen” is a good song in its own right but lightning rarely strikes twice.
Die Urkatastrophe is more than I dared hope for. I’ve had this thing for nearly two months and must have listened to it fifty-plus times. The sole flaw is that its closing track doesn’t quite match the magic of its debut counterpart. Everything else is at least as good, and often better, with “Der Maulwurf,” “Lviv zu Lemberg,” and “Waffenbrüder” forming among the strongest three-track runs I’ve ever heard. The textures Kanonenfieber weaves into the sound, coupled with the subtle tempo and stylistic shifts, give this album an almost languid fluidity and make it a heart-wrenching joy to listen to. The skill and attention to detail that went into crafting this record are outstanding, while the one-man performances by Noise are phenomenal. What makes this record truly iconic, however, is the storytelling and Noise’s ability to tailor his chosen sound to each horror he is conveying, be it the insanity of the war as a whole (“Menschenmühle”), suicidal desperation (“Der Maulwurf”) or otherwise.3
In a review of Non Est Deus, I said that I would, reluctantly, have to pass on the reviewing baton for Noise’s projects. I lied. Obviously.4
Rating: 5.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: noisebringer-records.bandcamp.com | noisebringer.de | facebook.com/Kanonenfieber
Releases Worldwide: September 20th, 2024#1914 #2024 #50 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BoltThrower #CenturyMediaRecords #DeathMetal #DieUrkatastrophe #GermanMetal #Kanonenfieber #Kvaen #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Opeth #Panzerfaust #Review #Reviews #Sep24 #Skeletonwitch
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Kanonenfieber – Die Urkatastrophe Review
By Carcharodon
When I wrote up Menschenmühle, the debut full-length by Germany’s Kanonenfieber, in late 2021, I described it as “stunning.” The storytelling arc that it achieves, opening with the almost enthusiastic bombast of the early days of the Great War, through to the exhausted horror of No Man’s Land, is incredible. Cast in shades of blackened death metal, I ended up crowning it my Album of the Year, calling it a “masterpiece.” So how does one write the follow-up to a masterpiece? When I sat down with anonymous Kanonenfieber mastermind1 Noise in 2023, I asked. He admitted to “having some struggles […] I don’t know, I’ve written the album four times over now but somehow, I just don’t like any of it.” Scroll forward a year and I finally got my sweaty little fanboy fins on Die Urkatastrophe. Did Noise get through his struggles to produce a worthy successor to Menschenmühle?
Like its predecessor, Die Urkatastrophe (which translates as something like “The Original Disaster”) focuses on the tragedies of the Great War, taking its inspiration from reports, letters, and other documents created by the soldiers who fought in that conflagration. It is uncompromising and brutal. Whether it’s the tale of the suicidal member of a mining team, tunneling under the front (“Der Maulwurf”)2 or the grinding battle that saw Austria-Hungary retake Lviv / Lemberg from the Russians (“Lviv zu Lemberg”), there’s an almost frantic energy to Kanonenfieber that is both vicious and beautiful. Simultaneously heavier and more melodic than what went before, Die Urkatastrophe flits between taking in the whole, awful scale of the War, panning across its fronts (“Gott mit der Kavallerie”), while at others zooming in on specific horrors (“Verdun” and its counterpart “Ausblutungsschlacht” ).
Kanonenfieber has developed an immediately identifiable sound and sense of individuality that sets it apart from the many reference points I could cite. Sure, the likes of Bolt Thrower and 1914 still feature strongly in Kanonenfieber’s work but Die Urkatastrophe is much more diverse. A blackened thrash edge creeps into Skeletonwitch territory in places (“Gott mit der Kavallerie”), while “Panzerhenker” and “Waffenbrüder” (the latter featuring Maik Weichert of Heaven Shall Burn) draw Kvaen into the mix. The infectiously catchy “Ritter der Lüfte” evokes Panzerfaust. While all those references and more are valid, the truth is that from Noise’s razorwire rasps and snarling growls—now expanded to include funeral doom-esque roars (“Panzerhenker”)—to his crystalline tremolos and killer death riffs, Kanonenfieber is now a touchstone in its own right. Part of what makes that true, and what distinguished Menschenmühle, is the skillful incorporation of samples and original recordings. These give Kanonenfieber the weight of authenticity, which is taken to the next level on Die Urkatastrophe. The threads of its stories of bloodshed, death, and despair are tied together by perfectly integrated battlefield effects and spoken word pieces, which feel organic and an integral—even essential—part of the whole. The tension built into opener “Grossmachtfantasie,” as the first rumbling riffs rise beneath a crackling recording is enough to give me goosebumps.
Noise’s vocal performance, already a selling point previously, is the strongest he’s ever given. This is amplified by the multi-tracking deployed across the record, as well as adornments, like the choral backing vocals on “Ausblutungsschlacht,” giving its ending an appropriately grand, symphonic feeling, as it details the slaughter at Verdun. As ever, the production is fantastic, although on this occasion Noise had assistance from Kristin Kohle of Kohlekeller Studio. The stellar guitar tone is hard to put into words. Whether it is the tremolo assault of “Menschenmühle” or the gorgeous percussion-free lament two-thirds of the way into “Lviv zu Lemberg” (recalling “Die Schlacht bei Tannenberg” from the previous album), the sound is organic and effortless, like a blackened Opeth in their heyday. The bass is also much more prominent in the mix, which is welcome, adding richness to the sound. My single critical comment is that Kanonenfieber tried to repeat a trick from the last album, ending with an acoustic semi-ballad. However, for me at least, Noise comes up very slightly short here. “Verscharrt und Ungerühmt” from Menschenmühle was lightning in a bottle; it tore out my heart and stamped it into the blood-soaked mud. Here, “Als die Waffen kamen” is a good song in its own right but lightning rarely strikes twice.
Die Urkatastrophe is more than I dared hope for. I’ve had this thing for nearly two months and must have listened to it fifty-plus times. The sole flaw is that its closing track doesn’t quite match the magic of its debut counterpart. Everything else is at least as good, and often better, with “Der Maulwurf,” “Lviv zu Lemberg,” and “Waffenbrüder” forming among the strongest three-track runs I’ve ever heard. The textures Kanonenfieber weaves into the sound, coupled with the subtle tempo and stylistic shifts, give this album an almost languid fluidity and make it a heart-wrenching joy to listen to. The skill and attention to detail that went into crafting this record are outstanding, while the one-man performances by Noise are phenomenal. What makes this record truly iconic, however, is the storytelling and Noise’s ability to tailor his chosen sound to each horror he is conveying, be it the insanity of the war as a whole (“Menschenmühle”), suicidal desperation (“Der Maulwurf”) or otherwise.3
In a review of Non Est Deus, I said that I would, reluctantly, have to pass on the reviewing baton for Noise’s projects. I lied. Obviously.4
Rating: 5.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: noisebringer-records.bandcamp.com | noisebringer.de | facebook.com/Kanonenfieber
Releases Worldwide: September 20th, 2024#1914 #2024 #50 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BoltThrower #CenturyMediaRecords #DeathMetal #DieUrkatastrophe #GermanMetal #Kanonenfieber #Kvaen #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Opeth #Panzerfaust #Review #Reviews #Sep24 #Skeletonwitch