#dec23 — Public Fediverse posts

Why You Feel This Today 🕯️ Feeling the "Holy Pause" of December 23rd? This is the day of the Great Waiting. While the world rushes, your soul is being asked to find stillness before the miracle. #InnerPeace #Dec23 #Meditation #SpiritualRest

Why You Feel This Today 🕯️ Feeling the "Holy Pause" of December 23rd? This is the day of the Great Waiting. While the world rushes, your soul is being asked to find stillness before the miracle. #InnerPeace #Dec23 #Meditation #SpiritualRest

Why You Feel This Today 🕯️ Feeling the "Holy Pause" of December 23rd? This is the day of the Great Waiting. While the world rushes, your soul is being asked to find stillness before the miracle. #InnerPeace #Dec23 #Meditation #SpiritualRest

Why You Feel This Today 🕯️ Feeling the "Holy Pause" of December 23rd? This is the day of the Great Waiting. While the world rushes, your soul is being asked to find stillness before the miracle. #InnerPeace #Dec23 #Meditation #SpiritualRest

Why You Feel This Today 🕯️ Feeling the "Holy Pause" of December 23rd? This is the day of the Great Waiting. While the world rushes, your soul is being asked to find stillness before the miracle. #InnerPeace #Dec23 #Meditation #SpiritualRest

Frostbite Orckings – The Orcish Eclipse Review

By Twelve

Frostbite Orckings may have claim to the most interesting premise in metal, at least in 2023. Based on recordings from hired session musicians,1 the project is a work of purely AI-generated power metal. The Orcish Eclipse is the project’s debut full-length release, and heralds itself as “the world’s first AI-generated heavy metal album.” For my part, I am resolved to not really care about that. I do not think AI in art is inherently a good or bad thing, nor do I believe that AI is incapable of creating something beautiful. So I will listen to the album in full, several times at least, and decide if I enjoy it based on the exact same factors as I have every other review I’ve ever written.

Unfortunately, my first listen through The Orcish Eclipse immediately challenged that resolution, because the album sounds so weird that you’re almost forced to remind yourself that most of its decisions weren’t made by humans. At first glance, it’s standard power metal, with chugging riffs and harsh vocals, and opener “When I Fall” sounds fairly straightforward. Then “Orcs Don’t Cry” opens with three seconds of synths before diving into a gritty riff that’s completely at odds with the song’s whimsical/nonsensical title and theme. It has one of the best choruses on the album, but the lyrics are so absurd that it’s hard to enjoy it. Then there’s “Beauty of the Night,” which opts to use a tremolo guitar that sounds so much like burbling2 I’m not fully convinced it’s really a guitar. This kind of thing keeps happening. Again and again, Frostbite Orckings makes bizarre, unexpected, off-putting choices that make it hard to ignore the fact that no humans were harmed in the making of this album.

The most unforgivable thing about The Orcish Eclipse, however, is its utter tepidity, its absolute lack of emotion, and its entirely unsuccessful attempts to make up for it. I have never listened to an album that made me feel nothing before this. It has all the right things in all the right places to emulate an energetic power metal experience—choral vocals layered over choruses, shouted ear-worm phrases, keyboard flourishes in all the right spots, all done with all the elegance of a paint-by-numbers kit. “Coming Home” is the worst offender, opening with robotic clean chanting (none of the clean singing on this album sounds natural) and replaying it every time the title phrase is shouted. It tries so hard to emulate folk metal, but it fails, because folk metal is sung and played with feeling. There’s a good song in there, but the actual performance does not live up.

An offshoot of this issue is the sterile songwriting and production choices that further rob the album of its energy. The drumming may as well have been done by MIDI for all the power it adds to the music, and the guitar chugs are little more than background noise. Meanwhile, the songs are predictable to a fault; each one ends on a chorus, sometimes modulated from the last one, and nearly every chorus ends with the name of the song. After a while, you get really good at predicting what’s going to happen next… until the curveball conclusion that is “Endless Love.” Here, we have a song that is so clearly AI-generated and so stylistically out-of-place from the rest of the album that it breaks through the tepidity of the whole in the worst way possible.

The Orcish Eclipse is fascinating. Played in the background, you wouldn’t notice anything odd about it. It hits all the right notes and emulates power metal well. The more you pay attention to it, the more you notice the cracks. You notice the basically-missing bass, the near-absent guitar leads,3 the weak drumming, and the fact that the lyrics rarely make any sense at all.4.= I believe that no one dreamed of making this album; it seems to exist only as an experiment, a premise, and for that, I am left extremely disappointed.

Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metalverse5
Websites: frostbiteorckings.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/frostbiteorckings
Releases Worldwide: December 22nd, 2023

#10 #2023 #Dec23 #FrostbiteOrckings #Metalverse #NorwegianMetal #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #TheOrcishEclipse

Frostbite Orckings – The Orcish Eclipse Review

By Twelve

Frostbite Orckings may have claim to the most interesting premise in metal, at least in 2023. Based on recordings from hired session musicians,1 the project is a work of purely AI-generated power metal. The Orcish Eclipse is the project’s debut full-length release, and heralds itself as “the world’s first AI-generated heavy metal album.” For my part, I am resolved to not really care about that. I do not think AI in art is inherently a good or bad thing, nor do I believe that AI is incapable of creating something beautiful. So I will listen to the album in full, several times at least, and decide if I enjoy it based on the exact same factors as I have every other review I’ve ever written.

Unfortunately, my first listen through The Orcish Eclipse immediately challenged that resolution, because the album sounds so weird that you’re almost forced to remind yourself that most of its decisions weren’t made by humans. At first glance, it’s standard power metal, with chugging riffs and harsh vocals, and opener “When I Fall” sounds fairly straightforward. Then “Orcs Don’t Cry” opens with three seconds of synths before diving into a gritty riff that’s completely at odds with the song’s whimsical/nonsensical title and theme. It has one of the best choruses on the album, but the lyrics are so absurd that it’s hard to enjoy it. Then there’s “Beauty of the Night,” which opts to use a tremolo guitar that sounds so much like burbling2 I’m not fully convinced it’s really a guitar. This kind of thing keeps happening. Again and again, Frostbite Orckings makes bizarre, unexpected, off-putting choices that make it hard to ignore the fact that no humans were harmed in the making of this album.

The most unforgivable thing about The Orcish Eclipse, however, is its utter tepidity, its absolute lack of emotion, and its entirely unsuccessful attempts to make up for it. I have never listened to an album that made me feel nothing before this. It has all the right things in all the right places to emulate an energetic power metal experience—choral vocals layered over choruses, shouted ear-worm phrases, keyboard flourishes in all the right spots, all done with all the elegance of a paint-by-numbers kit. “Coming Home” is the worst offender, opening with robotic clean chanting (none of the clean singing on this album sounds natural) and replaying it every time the title phrase is shouted. It tries so hard to emulate folk metal, but it fails, because folk metal is sung and played with feeling. There’s a good song in there, but the actual performance does not live up.

An offshoot of this issue is the sterile songwriting and production choices that further rob the album of its energy. The drumming may as well have been done by MIDI for all the power it adds to the music, and the guitar chugs are little more than background noise. Meanwhile, the songs are predictable to a fault; each one ends on a chorus, sometimes modulated from the last one, and nearly every chorus ends with the name of the song. After a while, you get really good at predicting what’s going to happen next… until the curveball conclusion that is “Endless Love.” Here, we have a song that is so clearly AI-generated and so stylistically out-of-place from the rest of the album that it breaks through the tepidity of the whole in the worst way possible.

The Orcish Eclipse is fascinating. Played in the background, you wouldn’t notice anything odd about it. It hits all the right notes and emulates power metal well. The more you pay attention to it, the more you notice the cracks. You notice the basically-missing bass, the near-absent guitar leads,3 the weak drumming, and the fact that the lyrics rarely make any sense at all.4.= I believe that no one dreamed of making this album; it seems to exist only as an experiment, a premise, and for that, I am left extremely disappointed.

Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metalverse5
Websites: frostbiteorckings.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/frostbiteorckings
Releases Worldwide: December 22nd, 2023

#10 #2023 #Dec23 #FrostbiteOrckings #Metalverse #NorwegianMetal #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #TheOrcishEclipse

Stuck in the Filter – November/December’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

It is time for the new year, and yet we spend its initial moments reflecting on works of the past. That’s because the works of the past are clogging up our damn Filter, and we need that to breathe in this hellhole we call a headquarters. We toil in the snow and the slush, freezing as the gunk clings to our definitely OSHA compliant protective suits and face masks. All so that you can maybe like but more likely dunk on the nuggets of treasure we find here.

Regardless of whether you enjoy what we find, we expect payment for our services. You can submit tithes via Venmo, Paypal, Bitcoin, hobo wine, unicorns, and/or goat sacrifices. Anything less will result in summary dismissal from the Hall!

Kenstrosity’s Heaving Husks

Void // Jadjow [December 8th, 2023 – Brucia Records]

Weird shit is my shit. Challenging albums that dare to subvert my expectations of the music held therein will always garner my respect. Enter UK avant-garde black metal outfit Void and their fourth LP Jadjow. A bizarrely short window spanned between this release and their previous record—only two years compared to eight years between albums one and two, ten between albums two and three. Despite the tight turnaround, the quality of the writing here is nothing to dismiss offhand. Opening duo “Fables From a Post-Truth Era” and “Interdaementional” showcase twisted songwriting dynamics, haunting vocals, squealing black metal riffs, woody blasts, and funky transitions. Consequently, they remind me of Ved Buens Ende, DHG, and Khôra. Yet, Void prove that the art of the riff is not lost in a sea of weirdness, throwing in headbangable themes and windmill-worthy whirlwinds left and right (“Only For You,” “Self Isolation,” “Swamp Dog”). Striking this balance between engaging hooks (“Fables From a Post-Truth Era,” “Swamp Dog”), danceable grooves (“Oduduwa’s Chain”), and intelligent songwriting dynamics (“When Lucifer Dies,” “Iniquitous Owl”) is tricky business, and yet Void take on the task with effortless grace and poise. In turn, fifty-six minutes of oddball progressive black metal fly by in a flash. You blink, you miss it. Don’t blink!

Irityll // Schlafes Bruder [November 23rd, 2023 – Self Release]

Do you ever wonder what melodic black metal would sound like if it had the same HM-2 tone as the filthiest Swedeath around? I sure never have. Yet, Vienna, Austria’s Irityll chose that exact combination to craft their debut LP, Schlafes Bruder. Comprising of two musicians with notable experience in the deathcore and brutal death metal worlds (Spire of Lazarus, Monument of Misanthropy), Irityll unexpectedly nail the icy black metal sound which defines Schlafes Bruder, but enhanced by the novel twist of an HM-2 buzzsaw tone. Ominous melodies and vicious blasting abound, as choice cuts like “Leichnam aus Überzeugung,” “Deppade Leit,” and “Sternengeiβel” all demonstrate with aplomb. Written in the same epic style of bands like Immortal or Dark Funeral, Schlafes Bruder succeeds primarily thanks to a tasty combination of minimalist drama and riff-focused intensity. The way it ebbs and flows between soft passages and ripping black metal, blistering speed and militant marches, all feels natural, effortless, and leads to satisfying payoffs across the forty-four-minute runtime (“Schlafes Bruder,” “Reiter des Sturmes,” “Epitaphion”). And yet, it feels like just the beginning for Irityll. With more refinement and tightening of the screws, the duo could take even greater advantage of their novel sound profile with more distinct, individualized songwriting. I’m excited by that prospect, and you should be too.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Unparalleled Uncoverings

Closet Witch // Chiaroscuro [November 3rd, 2023 – Zegema Beach Records]

If you’re familiar with Closet Witch already, or the closely related in sound and style Cloud Rat, then you’ll know that the brand of caustically-styled, emotionally-chiseled grind that they represent wastes no moment. Equally weighted by the slowing churns of powerviolence and piercing tones of screamo, Chiaroscuro, a name taken from the classical art technique of shadow-use/darkness contrast that creates wholeness, depth, and tone in a piece, uses each of its identities to drill eighteen minutes of caustic music to your memory. Unfortunately for newcomers or passerbys to the sonic assault that Closet Witch embodies, either the fuzz-rattled and blackened riffage, the clanging and splashing kit abuse, or the shrill and shrieking throat sacrifice build like a wall of bleeding noise. But in practice, Chiaroscuro contains an uncanny ebb and flow, finding footing in rhythmic refocusing (“My Words Are Sacred,” “Well-Fed Machine”), noise-assisted tip-offs (“You, Me, and the Venus in Decay,” “To the Cauldron”), and pedal-down thrusts (“Haunting,” “Arlington Cemetary”) to dog ear its shifts and landmarks. In this case, a horror-synth “Intro” and de-escalating, crinkled found-sound “Outro” are necessary to respectively set the stage and close the curtains. You don’t want to go into this cold, but Chiaroscuro burns so hot that you need a cooldown.

Exulansis // Overtures of Uprising [November 17th, 2023 – Bindrune Recordings]

You ever sit there and wonder when you’re finally gonna find a melodic black metal album that’s actually cool? No? How about one that at least incorporates vibrant violin melodies, guitar identities outside of tremolo progressions, and actual growling bass presence? Well, if so, look no further than Exulansis, a folk-inspired four-piece who finds just as much home in the creeping doom of the string work that you’d hear in an old SubRosa jam as they do in the forested black metal of Wolves in the Throne Room. But in this case, Overtures of Uprising’s four tracks will require only thirty-two minutes (it’s not enough!!) of your hard-to-earn time, a healthy balance of two standard-length numbers against two longer explorations. Whereas their previous album, 2019’s Sequestered Symphony attempted to meld a lot more gothic folk into their sound, Exulansis went and trimmed that into a whole separate album (Hymns of Collapse) this go, which has left absolutely nothing to stand in the way of the bell-hammering drive of “Of Nature & Hatred” or the eerie and screeching “A Movement in Silence”.1 And when they do slow it down for the fanciful, classical violin melodies that signal the triumphant title track or the lurching doom of “Dawning,” Exulansis finds a way to capture the beat of an anxious heart. Unified by a melodic dread, Overtures of Uprising pushes this act closer to record that’ll grab me by the hand and never let go. Fortunately, I know these strong voices have more to say.

Saunders’ Slippery Subjects

Deathcode Society // Unlightenment [November 24th, 2023 – Osmose Productions]

My end-of-year filter was badly clogged amidst the rush to finalize Listurnalia and absorb the mammoth number of releases that either flooded through late or had been backlogged. Nevertheless, in the end-of-year wash-up, I stumbled across the sophomore platter from French symphonic black metal act Deathcode Society, and their powerful, bombastic LP, Unlightenment. Traditionally, I am incredibly picky with my modern black metal, and much of the overly symphonic variety tends to fall flat or overdo the cheese. Comprised of seasoned players, Deathcode Society balances the elements deftly to craft an intriguing platter, with modern sheen and orchestral flair roughened up by second-wave influences and whiffs of later-era Emperor. The sympho-black formula can sometimes veer too drastically into melodramatic territory, adding too much fluff to soften the black metal bite. Thankfully, Deathcode Society generally nail things just right. Within the style, Deathcode Society exhibit a versatile and confident approach, as their epic, carefully layered sound ebbs and flows through diverse pastures. A technical edge permeates material that blisters and tears with speed and aggression, contrasting these pleasingly vicious assaults with mostly tasteful symphonic layers, a varied vocal palette, and long, twisty arrangements. Highlights include the potent, blasty one-two opening punch of “Scolopendra” and “Shards” dominate with sheer scope, ferocity and memorability, while the stellar “Mazed Interior” and “Scales” offer in-your-face aggression and more ambitious, head-spinning turns with maximum impact.

#2023 #AvantGarde #AvantGardeBlackMetal #BindruneRecordings #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BruciaRecords #Chiaroscuro #ClosetWitch #CloudRat #DarkFuneral #DeathMetal #DeathcodeSociety #Dec23 #DHG #Emperor #Exulansis #Grind #Immortal #Irityll #Jadjow #Khôra #MelodicBlackMetal #MonumentOfMisanthropy #Nov23 #OrchestralBlackMetal #OsmoseProductions #OverturesOfUprising #ProgressiveBlackMetal #SchlafesBruder #SelfRelease #SpireOfLazarus #StuckInTheFilter #Subrosa #SymphonicBlackMetal #SymphonicMetal #Unlightenment #VedBuensEnde #Vøid #WolvesInTheThroneRoom #ZegemaBeachRecords

Stuck in the Filter – November/December’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

It is time for the new year, and yet we spend its initial moments reflecting on works of the past. That’s because the works of the past are clogging up our damn Filter, and we need that to breathe in this hellhole we call a headquarters. We toil in the snow and the slush, freezing as the gunk clings to our definitely OSHA compliant protective suits and face masks. All so that you can maybe like but more likely dunk on the nuggets of treasure we find here.

Regardless of whether you enjoy what we find, we expect payment for our services. You can submit tithes via Venmo, Paypal, Bitcoin, hobo wine, unicorns, and/or goat sacrifices. Anything less will result in summary dismissal from the Hall!

Kenstrosity’s Heaving Husks

Void // Jadjow [December 8th, 2023 – Brucia Records]

Weird shit is my shit. Challenging albums that dare to subvert my expectations of the music held therein will always garner my respect. Enter UK avant-garde black metal outfit Void and their fourth LP Jadjow. A bizarrely short window spanned between this release and their previous record—only two years compared to eight years between albums one and two, ten between albums two and three. Despite the tight turnaround, the quality of the writing here is nothing to dismiss offhand. Opening duo “Fables From a Post-Truth Era” and “Interdaementional” showcase twisted songwriting dynamics, haunting vocals, squealing black metal riffs, woody blasts, and funky transitions. Consequently, they remind me of Ved Buens Ende, DHG, and Khôra. Yet, Void prove that the art of the riff is not lost in a sea of weirdness, throwing in headbangable themes and windmill-worthy whirlwinds left and right (“Only For You,” “Self Isolation,” “Swamp Dog”). Striking this balance between engaging hooks (“Fables From a Post-Truth Era,” “Swamp Dog”), danceable grooves (“Oduduwa’s Chain”), and intelligent songwriting dynamics (“When Lucifer Dies,” “Iniquitous Owl”) is tricky business, and yet Void take on the task with effortless grace and poise. In turn, fifty-six minutes of oddball progressive black metal fly by in a flash. You blink, you miss it. Don’t blink!

Irityll // Schlafes Bruder [November 23rd, 2023 – Self Release]

Do you ever wonder what melodic black metal would sound like if it had the same HM-2 tone as the filthiest Swedeath around? I sure never have. Yet, Vienna, Austria’s Irityll chose that exact combination to craft their debut LP, Schlafes Bruder. Comprising of two musicians with notable experience in the deathcore and brutal death metal worlds (Spire of Lazarus, Monument of Misanthropy), Irityll unexpectedly nail the icy black metal sound which defines Schlafes Bruder, but enhanced by the novel twist of an HM-2 buzzsaw tone. Ominous melodies and vicious blasting abound, as choice cuts like “Leichnam aus Überzeugung,” “Deppade Leit,” and “Sternengeiβel” all demonstrate with aplomb. Written in the same epic style of bands like Immortal or Dark Funeral, Schlafes Bruder succeeds primarily thanks to a tasty combination of minimalist drama and riff-focused intensity. The way it ebbs and flows between soft passages and ripping black metal, blistering speed and militant marches, all feels natural, effortless, and leads to satisfying payoffs across the forty-four-minute runtime (“Schlafes Bruder,” “Reiter des Sturmes,” “Epitaphion”). And yet, it feels like just the beginning for Irityll. With more refinement and tightening of the screws, the duo could take even greater advantage of their novel sound profile with more distinct, individualized songwriting. I’m excited by that prospect, and you should be too.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Unparalleled Uncoverings

Closet Witch // Chiaroscuro [November 3rd, 2023 – Zegema Beach Records]

If you’re familiar with Closet Witch already, or the closely related in sound and style Cloud Rat, then you’ll know that the brand of caustically-styled, emotionally-chiseled grind that they represent wastes no moment. Equally weighted by the slowing churns of powerviolence and piercing tones of screamo, Chiaroscuro, a name taken from the classical art technique of shadow-use/darkness contrast that creates wholeness, depth, and tone in a piece, uses each of its identities to drill eighteen minutes of caustic music to your memory. Unfortunately for newcomers or passerbys to the sonic assault that Closet Witch embodies, either the fuzz-rattled and blackened riffage, the clanging and splashing kit abuse, or the shrill and shrieking throat sacrifice build like a wall of bleeding noise. But in practice, Chiaroscuro contains an uncanny ebb and flow, finding footing in rhythmic refocusing (“My Words Are Sacred,” “Well-Fed Machine”), noise-assisted tip-offs (“You, Me, and the Venus in Decay,” “To the Cauldron”), and pedal-down thrusts (“Haunting,” “Arlington Cemetary”) to dog ear its shifts and landmarks. In this case, a horror-synth “Intro” and de-escalating, crinkled found-sound “Outro” are necessary to respectively set the stage and close the curtains. You don’t want to go into this cold, but Chiaroscuro burns so hot that you need a cooldown.

Exulansis // Overtures of Uprising [November 17th, 2023 – Bindrune Recordings]

You ever sit there and wonder when you’re finally gonna find a melodic black metal album that’s actually cool? No? How about one that at least incorporates vibrant violin melodies, guitar identities outside of tremolo progressions, and actual growling bass presence? Well, if so, look no further than Exulansis, a folk-inspired four-piece who finds just as much home in the creeping doom of the string work that you’d hear in an old SubRosa jam as they do in the forested black metal of Wolves in the Throne Room. But in this case, Overtures of Uprising’s four tracks will require only thirty-two minutes (it’s not enough!!) of your hard-to-earn time, a healthy balance of two standard-length numbers against two longer explorations. Whereas their previous album, 2019’s Sequestered Symphony attempted to meld a lot more gothic folk into their sound, Exulansis went and trimmed that into a whole separate album (Hymns of Collapse) this go, which has left absolutely nothing to stand in the way of the bell-hammering drive of “Of Nature & Hatred” or the eerie and screeching “A Movement in Silence”.1 And when they do slow it down for the fanciful, classical violin melodies that signal the triumphant title track or the lurching doom of “Dawning,” Exulansis finds a way to capture the beat of an anxious heart. Unified by a melodic dread, Overtures of Uprising pushes this act closer to record that’ll grab me by the hand and never let go. Fortunately, I know these strong voices have more to say.

Saunders’ Slippery Subjects

Deathcode Society // Unlightenment [November 24th, 2023 – Osmose Productions]

My end-of-year filter was badly clogged amidst the rush to finalize Listurnalia and absorb the mammoth number of releases that either flooded through late or had been backlogged. Nevertheless, in the end-of-year wash-up, I stumbled across the sophomore platter from French symphonic black metal act Deathcode Society, and their powerful, bombastic LP, Unlightenment. Traditionally, I am incredibly picky with my modern black metal, and much of the overly symphonic variety tends to fall flat or overdo the cheese. Comprised of seasoned players, Deathcode Society balances the elements deftly to craft an intriguing platter, with modern sheen and orchestral flair roughened up by second-wave influences and whiffs of later-era Emperor. The sympho-black formula can sometimes veer too drastically into melodramatic territory, adding too much fluff to soften the black metal bite. Thankfully, Deathcode Society generally nail things just right. Within the style, Deathcode Society exhibit a versatile and confident approach, as their epic, carefully layered sound ebbs and flows through diverse pastures. A technical edge permeates material that blisters and tears with speed and aggression, contrasting these pleasingly vicious assaults with mostly tasteful symphonic layers, a varied vocal palette, and long, twisty arrangements. Highlights include the potent, blasty one-two opening punch of “Scolopendra” and “Shards” dominate with sheer scope, ferocity and memorability, while the stellar “Mazed Interior” and “Scales” offer in-your-face aggression and more ambitious, head-spinning turns with maximum impact.

#2023 #AvantGarde #AvantGardeBlackMetal #BindruneRecordings #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BruciaRecords #Chiaroscuro #ClosetWitch #CloudRat #DarkFuneral #DeathMetal #DeathcodeSociety #Dec23 #DHG #Emperor #Exulansis #Grind #Immortal #Irityll #Jadjow #Khôra #MelodicBlackMetal #MonumentOfMisanthropy #Nov23 #OrchestralBlackMetal #OsmoseProductions #OverturesOfUprising #ProgressiveBlackMetal #SchlafesBruder #SelfRelease #SpireOfLazarus #StuckInTheFilter #Subrosa #SymphonicBlackMetal #SymphonicMetal #Unlightenment #VedBuensEnde #Vøid #WolvesInTheThroneRoom #ZegemaBeachRecords

Spider God – The Killing Room Review

By Doom_et_Al

Some metal bands are, by their nature, divisive. This divisiveness can take many forms (a gross name, misanthropic actions, controversial statements) and may be intentional (as a way of garnering attention) or just part of who the band are. Spider God, a UK-based black metal outfit, fall into the latter category. They exploded on the scene in 2022 with Black Renditions, which took classic pop tracks, blackened ‘em up, and released them on an unsuspecting metal scene. It was audacious, it was confrontational, it was antithetical to what many consider one of the sacred tenets of black metal: namely that this is not saccharine music for the masses in general, and teenage girls in particular. Our own SpongeFren fell in love immediately. If you know him, you’ll know that nothing tickles his fancy quite like bold genre-splicing, so, unsurprisingly, he gushed like a fanboi. The follow-up, Fly in the Trap, was controversial for different reasons. Maintaining the debut’s hyper-melodic tone, this original material was based on a true crime, namely the mysterious death of a young woman found submerged in a hotel roof tank. The combination of overly clean production, weird tone, and the question of exploitation of real-life tragedy left me (and others) with mixed feelings. Now we have the third album. Will the divisiveness continue?

I’ve often felt that small changes can make a big difference, especially in music. The Killing Room, ostensibly, is very similar to Fly in the Trap, even down to its eerie and unsettling cover. Same hyper (and I mean hyper) melodicism, same “true crime” theme (we’ll get to that), same aesthetic… The concept this time is that ex-band member “Faustus” has gone missing under mysterious circumstances after becoming embroiled in a deadly online game known as “Possess the Devil.” The album features his lyrics before he disappeared, promising a mystery for the listener to solve. It is, in keeping with the trend of 2023, Part 1 of 2. Now, at this stage, you’re either intrigued or rolling your eyes hard. If you couldn’t handle the previous offerings, there’s nothing here that will bring you round. Similarly, if you loved the older material, this will continue to appeal. The interesting group are the unconvinced. The good news is that there are just enough tinkers and changes to perhaps persuade you.

The first major tweak is the band continuing to evolve away from black metal, and embracing either a more “black ‘n’ roll” aesthetic (“s.p.i.d.e.r.g.o.d.,” “The Black Web”) or going full pop on many of the tracks. If you removed the vocals from “Silicon Witch,” or “The Cloud of Unknowing,” both would fit nicely into any indie band’s repertoire. Crucially, Spider God hang onto the component that drew attention to them in the first place: their ability to marry insanely catchy hooks with harsh metal elements. This reaches its apotheosis on album centerpiece, and most impressive Spider God song to date, the 10-minute-long “The Killing Room.” It’s compelling, interesting, baffling, and confusing. In other words, Spider God is in musical form.

The second tweak is that moving away from real-life tragedy to artificial mystery removes the “ick” exploitation factor that pervaded the last album, making The Killing Room much easier to enjoy. It also eliminates some of the tonal mismatch of Fly in the Trap (nerdy mystery is fun, which suits the music). I still find it odd that Spider God want us to embrace an almost total pop aesthetic and a creepy and potentially violent story, but this is their schtick, and they cling to it. The overly clean production of its predecessor has been grimed up, which suits the material hugely, although I would love them to open it up a bit more and let the material breathe. The band has also wisely decided to push the vocals back and beef up the bass. All these small tweaks may be minor individually, but the improvement is notable.

Both The Killing Room and Spider God have grown on me enormously in the 2 weeks I’ve been listening to them. The band likes metal. It also likes pop. It takes a while to wrap your head around this combo, but it certainly is unique, especially when the band is as committed as Spider God. In addition, the band has tinkered and adjusted itself in response to the criticisms of Fly in the Trap. This will not appeal to everyone, and there will be the usual gatekeeping nonsense from some quarters. But if you’re willing to open your mind, you’ll find much reward in The Killing Room.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Repose Records
Website: spider-god.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/spidergodband/
Releases Worldwide: December 25th, 2023

#2023 #35 #BlackMetal #Dec23 #ReposeRecords #Review #Reviews #SpiderGod #UKMetal

Spider God – The Killing Room Review

By Doom_et_Al

Some metal bands are, by their nature, divisive. This divisiveness can take many forms (a gross name, misanthropic actions, controversial statements) and may be intentional (as a way of garnering attention) or just part of who the band are. Spider God, a UK-based black metal outfit, fall into the latter category. They exploded on the scene in 2022 with Black Renditions, which took classic pop tracks, blackened ‘em up, and released them on an unsuspecting metal scene. It was audacious, it was confrontational, it was antithetical to what many consider one of the sacred tenets of black metal: namely that this is not saccharine music for the masses in general, and teenage girls in particular. Our own SpongeFren fell in love immediately. If you know him, you’ll know that nothing tickles his fancy quite like bold genre-splicing, so, unsurprisingly, he gushed like a fanboi. The follow-up, Fly in the Trap, was controversial for different reasons. Maintaining the debut’s hyper-melodic tone, this original material was based on a true crime, namely the mysterious death of a young woman found submerged in a hotel roof tank. The combination of overly clean production, weird tone, and the question of exploitation of real-life tragedy left me (and others) with mixed feelings. Now we have the third album. Will the divisiveness continue?

I’ve often felt that small changes can make a big difference, especially in music. The Killing Room, ostensibly, is very similar to Fly in the Trap, even down to its eerie and unsettling cover. Same hyper (and I mean hyper) melodicism, same “true crime” theme (we’ll get to that), same aesthetic… The concept this time is that ex-band member “Faustus” has gone missing under mysterious circumstances after becoming embroiled in a deadly online game known as “Possess the Devil.” The album features his lyrics before he disappeared, promising a mystery for the listener to solve. It is, in keeping with the trend of 2023, Part 1 of 2. Now, at this stage, you’re either intrigued or rolling your eyes hard. If you couldn’t handle the previous offerings, there’s nothing here that will bring you round. Similarly, if you loved the older material, this will continue to appeal. The interesting group are the unconvinced. The good news is that there are just enough tinkers and changes to perhaps persuade you.

The first major tweak is the band continuing to evolve away from black metal, and embracing either a more “black ‘n’ roll” aesthetic (“s.p.i.d.e.r.g.o.d.,” “The Black Web”) or going full pop on many of the tracks. If you removed the vocals from “Silicon Witch,” or “The Cloud of Unknowing,” both would fit nicely into any indie band’s repertoire. Crucially, Spider God hang onto the component that drew attention to them in the first place: their ability to marry insanely catchy hooks with harsh metal elements. This reaches its apotheosis on album centerpiece, and most impressive Spider God song to date, the 10-minute-long “The Killing Room.” It’s compelling, interesting, baffling, and confusing. In other words, Spider God is in musical form.

The second tweak is that moving away from real-life tragedy to artificial mystery removes the “ick” exploitation factor that pervaded the last album, making The Killing Room much easier to enjoy. It also eliminates some of the tonal mismatch of Fly in the Trap (nerdy mystery is fun, which suits the music). I still find it odd that Spider God want us to embrace an almost total pop aesthetic and a creepy and potentially violent story, but this is their schtick, and they cling to it. The overly clean production of its predecessor has been grimed up, which suits the material hugely, although I would love them to open it up a bit more and let the material breathe. The band has also wisely decided to push the vocals back and beef up the bass. All these small tweaks may be minor individually, but the improvement is notable.

Both The Killing Room and Spider God have grown on me enormously in the 2 weeks I’ve been listening to them. The band likes metal. It also likes pop. It takes a while to wrap your head around this combo, but it certainly is unique, especially when the band is as committed as Spider God. In addition, the band has tinkered and adjusted itself in response to the criticisms of Fly in the Trap. This will not appeal to everyone, and there will be the usual gatekeeping nonsense from some quarters. But if you’re willing to open your mind, you’ll find much reward in The Killing Room.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Repose Records
Website: spider-god.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/spidergodband/
Releases Worldwide: December 25th, 2023

#2023 #35 #BlackMetal #Dec23 #ReposeRecords #Review #Reviews #SpiderGod #UKMetal

Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze – The Fractal Ouroboros [Things You Might Have Missed 2023]

By Dear Hollow

Last we encountered Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze, they dwelt in relative obscurity, creating a dark marriage of ritualistic atmospheric black metal and unabashed social platforms – anti-fascist and anti-capitalist – in the Colorado trio’s debut Offerings of Flesh and Gold. The trio has since sharpened and solidified their stance, that the act exists “as a knife pointed to the throat of any who seek to maintain oppressive systems of white supremacy and fascism that continue to fester in our societies.” Lyrics are layered with the occult, furthermore enhancing the obscure sound they proffer. Pulsing percussion, patient ambiance, thunderous doom, and cathartic explosions of vicious black metal are all fed through the jaws of ritualism in sophomore effort The Fractal Ouroboros – even more so than its predecessor.

Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze manages to create a mammoth hour-and-fifteen length that takes its precious time before crushing your soul with calculated second-wave intensity. The swell and lull of its atmosphere has its time and place, thus lending The Fractal Ouroboros its immense but supremely organic feel, each track moving fluidly among its influences and giving each track a unique identity to fuse into the tapestry of the album’s pitch-black palette and atmosphere – dark and unholy places constructed under godlike suns. Tracks like opener “Trophy,” “Suffocate O Earthen Lungs; They Now Lungs of Ash,” and closer “Ekstasis, Enstasis, and The Fractal Ouroboros” feature pummeling black metal passages, sinister atmosphere, and minimalist passages of plucking and thunderous percussion, giving climax and violence to the dense ambiance.

Because the album takes its time at well over an hour, the atmosphere must be front and center. Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze does not disappoint in this regard, weaponizing an array of synth tricks to concoct such a relentlessly dark aura throughout. “A History of Cages and Broken Bones” and “Our Overt Apocalypse” are mammoth tracks of jolting doom and scathing tremolo that crash through the thick ambiance, while fiery vocals guide the movements. The quiet climaxes of “Annihilation” and “Liberation Ritual” showcase the stolen weight of the darkness, dwelling heavy and dense smoke-filled atmosphere, existential dread coursing through every fiber of the slow-burning movements. The ambient swell of the latter transitions neatly into the shamanistic drumming of the latter, constructing a darkened tabernacle that feels more authentic and human, a whisper, than its explosive tendencies.

While Offerings of Flesh and Gold was an immensely promising offering, Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze becomes another beast entirely with The Fractal Ouroboros. The trio previously dwelt in dark atmospheres, pulsing percussion, and second-wave expressions – a powerful but relatively predictable album of atmospheric black metal. However, tracks like “Suffocate O Earthen Lungs; They Now Lungs of Ash” and “Annihilation” blindside listeners with an animalistic ferocity and shimmering fury that contrasts with the tidy spiritual trademark of shamanism that pervaded their last album. While its message is anything but obscure, the dichotomy of its activism and its maddening take on black metal ensures that inequality and injustice will not be left unpunished. Had The Fractal Ouroboros been given an earlier release date, it would have listed everywhere, because it cements Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze as one of the most dangerous acts in contemporary black metal.

Tracks to Check Out: ”Suffocate O Earthen Lungs; They Now Lungs of Ash,” “Annihilation,” “A History of Cages and Broken Bones”

#2023 #BullOfApisBullOfBronze #Dec23 #FiadhProductions #TheFractalOuroboros #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2023 #VitaDetestabilisRecords

Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze – The Fractal Ouroboros [Things You Might Have Missed 2023]

By Dear Hollow

Last we encountered Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze, they dwelt in relative obscurity, creating a dark marriage of ritualistic atmospheric black metal and unabashed social platforms – anti-fascist and anti-capitalist – in the Colorado trio’s debut Offerings of Flesh and Gold. The trio has since sharpened and solidified their stance, that the act exists “as a knife pointed to the throat of any who seek to maintain oppressive systems of white supremacy and fascism that continue to fester in our societies.” Lyrics are layered with the occult, furthermore enhancing the obscure sound they proffer. Pulsing percussion, patient ambiance, thunderous doom, and cathartic explosions of vicious black metal are all fed through the jaws of ritualism in sophomore effort The Fractal Ouroboros – even more so than its predecessor.

Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze manages to create a mammoth hour-and-fifteen length that takes its precious time before crushing your soul with calculated second-wave intensity. The swell and lull of its atmosphere has its time and place, thus lending The Fractal Ouroboros its immense but supremely organic feel, each track moving fluidly among its influences and giving each track a unique identity to fuse into the tapestry of the album’s pitch-black palette and atmosphere – dark and unholy places constructed under godlike suns. Tracks like opener “Trophy,” “Suffocate O Earthen Lungs; They Now Lungs of Ash,” and closer “Ekstasis, Enstasis, and The Fractal Ouroboros” feature pummeling black metal passages, sinister atmosphere, and minimalist passages of plucking and thunderous percussion, giving climax and violence to the dense ambiance.

Because the album takes its time at well over an hour, the atmosphere must be front and center. Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze does not disappoint in this regard, weaponizing an array of synth tricks to concoct such a relentlessly dark aura throughout. “A History of Cages and Broken Bones” and “Our Overt Apocalypse” are mammoth tracks of jolting doom and scathing tremolo that crash through the thick ambiance, while fiery vocals guide the movements. The quiet climaxes of “Annihilation” and “Liberation Ritual” showcase the stolen weight of the darkness, dwelling heavy and dense smoke-filled atmosphere, existential dread coursing through every fiber of the slow-burning movements. The ambient swell of the latter transitions neatly into the shamanistic drumming of the latter, constructing a darkened tabernacle that feels more authentic and human, a whisper, than its explosive tendencies.

While Offerings of Flesh and Gold was an immensely promising offering, Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze becomes another beast entirely with The Fractal Ouroboros. The trio previously dwelt in dark atmospheres, pulsing percussion, and second-wave expressions – a powerful but relatively predictable album of atmospheric black metal. However, tracks like “Suffocate O Earthen Lungs; They Now Lungs of Ash” and “Annihilation” blindside listeners with an animalistic ferocity and shimmering fury that contrasts with the tidy spiritual trademark of shamanism that pervaded their last album. While its message is anything but obscure, the dichotomy of its activism and its maddening take on black metal ensures that inequality and injustice will not be left unpunished. Had The Fractal Ouroboros been given an earlier release date, it would have listed everywhere, because it cements Bull of Apis Bull of Bronze as one of the most dangerous acts in contemporary black metal.

Tracks to Check Out: ”Suffocate O Earthen Lungs; They Now Lungs of Ash,” “Annihilation,” “A History of Cages and Broken Bones”

#2023 #BullOfApisBullOfBronze #Dec23 #FiadhProductions #TheFractalOuroboros #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2023 #VitaDetestabilisRecords

Memo an mich selbst: Künftig die #Lichterkette für den #Tannenbaum vor dem 23.12. Testen :blobpats:

#xmasfail #lichterketten #dec23 #Keinachtsbaum

Memo an mich selbst: Künftig die #Lichterkette für den #Tannenbaum vor dem 23.12. Testen :blobpats:

#xmasfail #lichterketten #dec23 #Keinachtsbaum

Memo an mich selbst: Künftig die #Lichterkette für den #Tannenbaum vor dem 23.12. Testen :blobpats:

#xmasfail #lichterketten #dec23 #Keinachtsbaum

Memo an mich selbst: Künftig die #Lichterkette für den #Tannenbaum vor dem 23.12. Testen :blobpats:

#xmasfail #lichterketten #dec23 #Keinachtsbaum

Megaton Leviathan – Magick Helmet Review

By Dear Hollow

Look, I love drone. I love getting lost in the swaths of noise and soundscapes that pervade its classics, as albums like Earth’s Earth 2, Sunn O)))’s Black One, and Boris’ Flood offer otherworldly and mammoth wilderness to explore. Riffs don’t offer adrenaline, but mountains instead, while vocals and percussion, if there are any, are the last semblance of humanity amid the utter saturation of sound. Its utter overwhelm of sound makes it controversial, its void of relatability offers little reprieve, and its slow depiction of devastation is hypnotic. All that to say, while I was maybe hoping for the next Holy Fawn with Megaton Leviathan’s talk of shoegaze, drone, and doom, I don’t know what the fuck to make of Magick Helmet.

While the gone-but-unforgotten Huck offered an optimistic 2.5 for the act’s third full-length 2018’s Mage, praising the song “Within the Threshold” for its ability to fuse sprawling drone with psychedelic soundscapes, things change in five years. Most notably, Megaton Leviathan is now a solo project of mastermind Andrew James Costa Reuscher (credited as Reuscher), responsible for every aspect of the hour-long monstrosity of Magick Helmet. As such, gone are the vocals and drone entirely in favor of an instrumental psychedelic rock session, comprised of fuzzed-out bass, wailing guitars, and pounding drums, attempting to channel “a maximum Doomgaze and minimalist approach embracing change and employing [Reuscher’s] love for things gritty, CVLT, and mind-altering.” It’s a minimalist approach to be sure, but the only thing conjured here is a maximalist headache.

Megaton Leviathan still manages to be drone, but to be frank, it’s in the bad way your parents describe your favorite music. Four tracks, over an hour long, with two tracks comprising over forty-six minutes of the runtime – it all sounds like something Sunn O))) would do. But if mammoth waves of drone is what you’re after, you will be sorely disappointed. Megaton Leviathan’s songwriting is comprised of a single fuzzed-out bassline and drum pattern that courses through the entirety of a song, while scathingly bright guitar wails comprise the melody. Magick Hammer is minimalist and rooted in vintage tones of psychedelic rock, which is Reuscher’s intention – I love that for him. Its only real highlight consists of centerpiece “The Belly of the Beast,” which departs the formula in favor of a Swans– or Merzbow-esque descent into noise and madness, which feels darker and more intense than anything Reuscher has accomplished. The flipside of this highlight, however, is that while Swans’ song “The Seer,” for instance, layered performances atop itself with an intense collusion of vocals, guitar, bass, drums, and noise, Megaton Leviathan’s noisy tendencies sound more like a new guitar player trying out a pedal at a Guitar Center – only guitar trilling away, feeling random and directionless.

The two sides of Magick Helmet are damning, because one sees the bass and drums locked into an unwavering and wearisome sequence, while the other is psychedelic upper fretboard brain-scorching randomness that is supposed to be the main attraction. While this certainly achieves a drug-fueled psychedelia, it also is derailed by a bad combination of boredom and tinnitus. The bulk of Magick Helmet consists of the aforementioned dully repeated basslines and scathing Jimi Hendrix-esque upper fretboard gymnastics interpretive dancing, making the nearly thirty-minute long “Helios Creed Magick Helmet” and openers “The Final Form of Nothing is Final” and its utterly unnecessary sequel “The Final Form of Nothing is Final (A Slight Reprise)” unbearable. While many more atmospheric or post-rock acts rely on a single motif to build a dynamic or crescendo upon, it is a building process. Megaton Leviathan’s is not: just repetition in hopes the guitar does the heavy lifting. Psychedelia is also a worthy aspiration, but other adjacent acts like Dark Buddha Rising or Space Coke do it better.

Megaton Leviathan talks a big game, with talk of “doomgaze” and “industrial drone” spilling out of previous releases. While often misguided, previous releases capitalized upon this ambition with sprawling compositions with many players’ formidable talents. While I understand the minimalist ambition, simple songwriting techniques need to be employed beyond “playing this shrill psychedelia until I get tired of it.” The Magick Helmet refers to the throbbing that covers my entire head upon listening, so maybe Megaton Leviathan should provide a dose of Tylenol with each purchase.

Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 61 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Volatile Rock Recordings
Websites: megatonleviathan.bandcamp.com | megatonleviathan.com | facebook.com/MegatonLeviathan
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#10 #2023 #AmericanMetal #Boris #DarkBuddhaRising #Dec23 #DoomMetal #DroneMetal #Earth #MagickHelmet #MegatonLeviathan #Merzbow #Noise #Psychedelic #PsychedelicDoomMetal #PsychedelicRock #Review #Reviews #SpaceCoke #SunnO_ #Swans #VolatileRockRecordings

Megaton Leviathan – Magick Helmet Review

By Dear Hollow

Look, I love drone. I love getting lost in the swaths of noise and soundscapes that pervade its classics, as albums like Earth’s Earth 2, Sunn O)))’s Black One, and Boris’ Flood offer otherworldly and mammoth wilderness to explore. Riffs don’t offer adrenaline, but mountains instead, while vocals and percussion, if there are any, are the last semblance of humanity amid the utter saturation of sound. Its utter overwhelm of sound makes it controversial, its void of relatability offers little reprieve, and its slow depiction of devastation is hypnotic. All that to say, while I was maybe hoping for the next Holy Fawn with Megaton Leviathan’s talk of shoegaze, drone, and doom, I don’t know what the fuck to make of Magick Helmet.

While the gone-but-unforgotten Huck offered an optimistic 2.5 for the act’s third full-length 2018’s Mage, praising the song “Within the Threshold” for its ability to fuse sprawling drone with psychedelic soundscapes, things change in five years. Most notably, Megaton Leviathan is now a solo project of mastermind Andrew James Costa Reuscher (credited as Reuscher), responsible for every aspect of the hour-long monstrosity of Magick Helmet. As such, gone are the vocals and drone entirely in favor of an instrumental psychedelic rock session, comprised of fuzzed-out bass, wailing guitars, and pounding drums, attempting to channel “a maximum Doomgaze and minimalist approach embracing change and employing [Reuscher’s] love for things gritty, CVLT, and mind-altering.” It’s a minimalist approach to be sure, but the only thing conjured here is a maximalist headache.

Megaton Leviathan still manages to be drone, but to be frank, it’s in the bad way your parents describe your favorite music. Four tracks, over an hour long, with two tracks comprising over forty-six minutes of the runtime – it all sounds like something Sunn O))) would do. But if mammoth waves of drone is what you’re after, you will be sorely disappointed. Megaton Leviathan’s songwriting is comprised of a single fuzzed-out bassline and drum pattern that courses through the entirety of a song, while scathingly bright guitar wails comprise the melody. Magick Hammer is minimalist and rooted in vintage tones of psychedelic rock, which is Reuscher’s intention – I love that for him. Its only real highlight consists of centerpiece “The Belly of the Beast,” which departs the formula in favor of a Swans– or Merzbow-esque descent into noise and madness, which feels darker and more intense than anything Reuscher has accomplished. The flipside of this highlight, however, is that while Swans’ song “The Seer,” for instance, layered performances atop itself with an intense collusion of vocals, guitar, bass, drums, and noise, Megaton Leviathan’s noisy tendencies sound more like a new guitar player trying out a pedal at a Guitar Center – only guitar trilling away, feeling random and directionless.

The two sides of Magick Helmet are damning, because one sees the bass and drums locked into an unwavering and wearisome sequence, while the other is psychedelic upper fretboard brain-scorching randomness that is supposed to be the main attraction. While this certainly achieves a drug-fueled psychedelia, it also is derailed by a bad combination of boredom and tinnitus. The bulk of Magick Helmet consists of the aforementioned dully repeated basslines and scathing Jimi Hendrix-esque upper fretboard gymnastics interpretive dancing, making the nearly thirty-minute long “Helios Creed Magick Helmet” and openers “The Final Form of Nothing is Final” and its utterly unnecessary sequel “The Final Form of Nothing is Final (A Slight Reprise)” unbearable. While many more atmospheric or post-rock acts rely on a single motif to build a dynamic or crescendo upon, it is a building process. Megaton Leviathan’s is not: just repetition in hopes the guitar does the heavy lifting. Psychedelia is also a worthy aspiration, but other adjacent acts like Dark Buddha Rising or Space Coke do it better.

Megaton Leviathan talks a big game, with talk of “doomgaze” and “industrial drone” spilling out of previous releases. While often misguided, previous releases capitalized upon this ambition with sprawling compositions with many players’ formidable talents. While I understand the minimalist ambition, simple songwriting techniques need to be employed beyond “playing this shrill psychedelia until I get tired of it.” The Magick Helmet refers to the throbbing that covers my entire head upon listening, so maybe Megaton Leviathan should provide a dose of Tylenol with each purchase.

Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 61 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Volatile Rock Recordings
Websites: megatonleviathan.bandcamp.com | megatonleviathan.com | facebook.com/MegatonLeviathan
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#10 #2023 #AmericanMetal #Boris #DarkBuddhaRising #Dec23 #DoomMetal #DroneMetal #Earth #MagickHelmet #MegatonLeviathan #Merzbow #Noise #Psychedelic #PsychedelicDoomMetal #PsychedelicRock #Review #Reviews #SpaceCoke #SunnO_ #Swans #VolatileRockRecordings

Genus Ordinis Dei – The Beginning Review

By GardensTale

One can’t credibly accuse Genus Ordinis Dei of a lack of ambition. Predecessor Glare of Deliverance used bombastic symphonic death metal to weave a tale of religious prosecution and witchcraft. The entire storyline was accompanied by a series of self-produced music videos. A big project, but the album itself was undercut by bloat and failed to impress me as much as 2017’s Great Olden Dynasty had done. Now, as the year draws to a close, the Biblical story-weavers bring us The Beginning, another religion-themed concept album accompanied by videos, but with only 4 videos and a pared-down running time, I felt hopeful the Italians would not be making the same mistake twice.

And I’m happy that this hope wasn’t for naught. Genus Ordinis Dei continues its musical evolution, the peculiar blend of genres now including everything from symphonic death metal to deathcore to gothic metal to folk to progressive to groove metal. The main ingredient remains symphonic death, especially the compact, catchy kind espoused by Septicflesh, especially audible on “The Divine Order” and “The Dragon and the Sword.” But “Changing Star” and “Genesis” add layered clean vocals that hearken more toward Borknagar and sound like they should be chanted through the abandoned wilderness. A Gojira style of riff pops up on opener “Aeternus” and the more syncopation-heavy battle-ready “Blackstone,” the latter a particularly strong track with many tight turns and some top-class drumming from Nicola Pedrali. It’s easy enough to keep listing bands; what makes The Beginning a resounding success is its ability to glue such a wide array of moods and influences together into a coherent yet versatile album.

Genus Ordinis Dei uses a host of tools that ensure the album’s continuing unity. The concept is but one aspect of this, though it is a compelling one. Leaving the Bible behind for a much older setting, the album explores the concept of prehistoric tribal religions and what happens when people leave one such tribe. Sketched with plenty of caveman hoo-hah chants, hand drumming and marching rhythms, the band manages to portray the story with more than just lyrics. But that does not mean the vocals are anything to sneeze at, their extensive stylistic range remaining a core fixture in G.O.D.’s arsenal. The narrative would not be nearly as compelling without a vocalist whose talents encompass both technique and storytelling. “For A New God” is a prime example of this. The emotional climax of the album, its structure is fairly simple, but the pain in Niccolò Cadrigari’s coarse screams is evident long before it dissolves into sobs by the song’s end. It’s melodramatic, certainly, often over the threshold of cheesy. But damn if it’s not done so well to be deeply compelling anyway.

Despite still nearing a full hour, The Beginning feels much less bloated than Glare of Deliverance. For one, there is no 16-minute track, only one crossing 7 minutes. For two, it’s a far more multifaceted affair, the majority of songs possessing their own face and identity. A few aspects could be tightened still; for instance, the largely instrumental “Shaman” doesn’t add much value to the album, and opener “Aeternus” wallows in its outro a bit too long. But overall it feels like a remarkably brisk album for its heft. The only real demerit I can levy is the production, which needs more breathing room. Though the DR5 (with most songs hitting DR4) looks worse than it sounds, in part thanks to a solid mix, the orchestral arrangements and drums would benefit a ton from more available depth in the master.

It’s a lone blemish on one of the finest symphonic albums of the year and the pinnacle of Genus Ordinis Dei’s discography so far. December is known to be the pit where shitty albums are buried to not embarrass the labels while blogs and magazines are busy with their top 10s, but The Beginning bucks the trend and delivers front to back. I’ve seen plenty of bands lay claim to a cinematic experience that don’t live up to the hype, while G.O.D. has made this its modus operandi without breaking a sweat, composing an absorbing soundtrack to a narrative of its own invention. When sizing up the year-end candidates, don’t skip this excellent bombastic tale of converted cavemen.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Eclipse Records
Websites: genusordinisdei.com | facebook.com/genusordinisdei
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#2023 #40 #Borknagar #DeathMetal #Dec23 #EclipseRecords #GenusOrdinisDei #Gojira #ItalianMetal #Review #Reviews #SepticFlesh #SymphonicMetal #TheBeginning

Genus Ordinis Dei – The Beginning Review

By GardensTale

One can’t credibly accuse Genus Ordinis Dei of a lack of ambition. Predecessor Glare of Deliverance used bombastic symphonic death metal to weave a tale of religious prosecution and witchcraft. The entire storyline was accompanied by a series of self-produced music videos. A big project, but the album itself was undercut by bloat and failed to impress me as much as 2017’s Great Olden Dynasty had done. Now, as the year draws to a close, the Biblical story-weavers bring us The Beginning, another religion-themed concept album accompanied by videos, but with only 4 videos and a pared-down running time, I felt hopeful the Italians would not be making the same mistake twice.

And I’m happy that this hope wasn’t for naught. Genus Ordinis Dei continues its musical evolution, the peculiar blend of genres now including everything from symphonic death metal to deathcore to gothic metal to folk to progressive to groove metal. The main ingredient remains symphonic death, especially the compact, catchy kind espoused by Septicflesh, especially audible on “The Divine Order” and “The Dragon and the Sword.” But “Changing Star” and “Genesis” add layered clean vocals that hearken more toward Borknagar and sound like they should be chanted through the abandoned wilderness. A Gojira style of riff pops up on opener “Aeternus” and the more syncopation-heavy battle-ready “Blackstone,” the latter a particularly strong track with many tight turns and some top-class drumming from Nicola Pedrali. It’s easy enough to keep listing bands; what makes The Beginning a resounding success is its ability to glue such a wide array of moods and influences together into a coherent yet versatile album.

Genus Ordinis Dei uses a host of tools that ensure the album’s continuing unity. The concept is but one aspect of this, though it is a compelling one. Leaving the Bible behind for a much older setting, the album explores the concept of prehistoric tribal religions and what happens when people leave one such tribe. Sketched with plenty of caveman hoo-hah chants, hand drumming and marching rhythms, the band manages to portray the story with more than just lyrics. But that does not mean the vocals are anything to sneeze at, their extensive stylistic range remaining a core fixture in G.O.D.’s arsenal. The narrative would not be nearly as compelling without a vocalist whose talents encompass both technique and storytelling. “For A New God” is a prime example of this. The emotional climax of the album, its structure is fairly simple, but the pain in Niccolò Cadrigari’s coarse screams is evident long before it dissolves into sobs by the song’s end. It’s melodramatic, certainly, often over the threshold of cheesy. But damn if it’s not done so well to be deeply compelling anyway.

Despite still nearing a full hour, The Beginning feels much less bloated than Glare of Deliverance. For one, there is no 16-minute track, only one crossing 7 minutes. For two, it’s a far more multifaceted affair, the majority of songs possessing their own face and identity. A few aspects could be tightened still; for instance, the largely instrumental “Shaman” doesn’t add much value to the album, and opener “Aeternus” wallows in its outro a bit too long. But overall it feels like a remarkably brisk album for its heft. The only real demerit I can levy is the production, which needs more breathing room. Though the DR5 (with most songs hitting DR4) looks worse than it sounds, in part thanks to a solid mix, the orchestral arrangements and drums would benefit a ton from more available depth in the master.

It’s a lone blemish on one of the finest symphonic albums of the year and the pinnacle of Genus Ordinis Dei’s discography so far. December is known to be the pit where shitty albums are buried to not embarrass the labels while blogs and magazines are busy with their top 10s, but The Beginning bucks the trend and delivers front to back. I’ve seen plenty of bands lay claim to a cinematic experience that don’t live up to the hype, while G.O.D. has made this its modus operandi without breaking a sweat, composing an absorbing soundtrack to a narrative of its own invention. When sizing up the year-end candidates, don’t skip this excellent bombastic tale of converted cavemen.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Eclipse Records
Websites: genusordinisdei.com | facebook.com/genusordinisdei
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#2023 #40 #Borknagar #DeathMetal #Dec23 #EclipseRecords #GenusOrdinisDei #Gojira #ItalianMetal #Review #Reviews #SepticFlesh #SymphonicMetal #TheBeginning

Revulsed – Cerebral Contamination Review

By Kenstrosity

Eight years ago, Australian brutal death duo Revulsed dropped one of the most overlooked slabs of quality murderizing, Infernal Atrocity. Dripping with grimy licks, slithering riffs, and enough pinch harmonics to pop your nipples right off your torso, Infernal Atrocity demanded the attention of all who would encounter it. The fact that it was the band’s debut outing makes it only that much more impressive. Now it’s 2023, going on 2024. Revulsed found their way into Everlasting Spew’s roster, and at long last sophomore follow-up Cerebral Contamination prepares for ultimate unleashment.

Extreme guttural evisceration is the name of Revulsed’s game, and in the eight years spanning between releases, nothing about that changed even one itty bitty bit. Their slimy Suffocation meets Defeated Sanity meets Unfathomable Ruination style remains as intact as ever, boasting deceptively hooky riffs wrapped around gnarled compositions that will challenge the mind as much as they will destroy the spine. At a tight and trim thirty-five minutes spread out over ten songs (and one superfluous intro), Cerebral Contamination makes quick work of flaying your flesh with the sound of music brutal death metal, all narrated by a battalion of subterranean gurgles. On the production side of things, Cerebral Contamination takes a minor hit compared to Infernal Atrocity. While the latter sounded suitably rough and gritty, this new outing suffers from relatively high gloss, vocals that present a bit too far forward in the mix, and some plastic-sounding bass triggers. Nonetheless, most listeners won’t be offended so long as they remain focused on crushing riffs, undulating song structures, and ugly vox—just as they ought to be.

Cerebral Contamination may be brutal, complex, and bludgeoning, but it somehow lacks the same feral vitality of Infernal Atrocity. Surely this issue doesn’t originate from a dearth of pure, murderous energy, as opener proper “Equitable Sufferance” clearly demonstrates with its serrated riffs and vicious blasts. “Asomatous Existence” similarly grooves and swerves just as hard as Revulsed’s prior highlights like “Transmutational Craniotomy,” so the problem does not lie in the band’s sense of rhythm. Rather, my reservations about Cerebral Contamination come from a place of memorability and distinction. This material, while incredibly heavy and suitably dense for the style, lacks the same palpable, animalistic ferocity that helped distinguish the band’s unstoppable debut. As a result of this shortcoming, most deeply felt in Cerebral Contamination’s first three and last two tracks, Revulsed’s latest treads a little too close to the term “generic” a little too often for my tastes.

That being said, there’s no denying that Revulsed are pros, unreasonably talented, and fully capable of razing the ground without mercy. “Delusional Servitude” serves as the first example of the band firing on all cylinders, blisteringly fast while remaining coherent and deliriously hooky. In fact, Cerebral Contamination’s entire midsection—spanning from track four all the way through track nine—houses Revulsed’s absolute best material. “Beyond the Depths of the Subconscious” riffs and noodles like the most vicious Suffocation track on speed and bath salts. “Perditional Enslavement” boasts its Defeated Sanity and Afterbirth heritage proudly, squealing with all of the wonderfully pinched, wriggling glee that you’d expect from a brutal band with such inspirations. Album highlights “Nefarious Devourment” and “Inconceivable Hallucinations” push even further, taking that heritage and shoving past it through excellent use of cymbal trickery, novel songwriting twists, and excessively groovy riffs that remind me only vaguely of Unbirth. Ultimately, these two tracks not only represent pure, untainted Revulsed, but also their current career best.

If Revulsed stuffed Cerebral Contaminations with songs of the same elevated caliber as the aforementioned “Nefarious Devourment,” the rating you see below would be higher. However, because this material sometimes lacks the same indelible zing that made Infernal Atrocity feel special—and because Revulsed clings too closely to their colleagues to truly stand-alone—my recommendation comes with small caveats. While not quite the barnstormer that is Infernal Atrocity, Cerebral Contamination remains a very good brutal death metal record that solidifies Revulsed as a major contender in the scene.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 51 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Websites: revulsed.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/RevulsedDM
Releases Worldwide: December 15th, 2023

#2023 #35 #Afterbirth #AustralianMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #CerebralContamination #DeathMetal #Dec23 #DefeatedSanity #EverlastingSpewRecords #Review #Reviews #Revulsed #Suffocation #TechnicalDeathMetal #Unbirth #UnfathomableRuination

Revulsed – Cerebral Contamination Review

By Kenstrosity

Eight years ago, Australian brutal death duo Revulsed dropped one of the most overlooked slabs of quality murderizing, Infernal Atrocity. Dripping with grimy licks, slithering riffs, and enough pinch harmonics to pop your nipples right off your torso, Infernal Atrocity demanded the attention of all who would encounter it. The fact that it was the band’s debut outing makes it only that much more impressive. Now it’s 2023, going on 2024. Revulsed found their way into Everlasting Spew’s roster, and at long last sophomore follow-up Cerebral Contamination prepares for ultimate unleashment.

Extreme guttural evisceration is the name of Revulsed’s game, and in the eight years spanning between releases, nothing about that changed even one itty bitty bit. Their slimy Suffocation meets Defeated Sanity meets Unfathomable Ruination style remains as intact as ever, boasting deceptively hooky riffs wrapped around gnarled compositions that will challenge the mind as much as they will destroy the spine. At a tight and trim thirty-five minutes spread out over ten songs (and one superfluous intro), Cerebral Contamination makes quick work of flaying your flesh with the sound of music brutal death metal, all narrated by a battalion of subterranean gurgles. On the production side of things, Cerebral Contamination takes a minor hit compared to Infernal Atrocity. While the latter sounded suitably rough and gritty, this new outing suffers from relatively high gloss, vocals that present a bit too far forward in the mix, and some plastic-sounding bass triggers. Nonetheless, most listeners won’t be offended so long as they remain focused on crushing riffs, undulating song structures, and ugly vox—just as they ought to be.

Cerebral Contamination may be brutal, complex, and bludgeoning, but it somehow lacks the same feral vitality of Infernal Atrocity. Surely this issue doesn’t originate from a dearth of pure, murderous energy, as opener proper “Equitable Sufferance” clearly demonstrates with its serrated riffs and vicious blasts. “Asomatous Existence” similarly grooves and swerves just as hard as Revulsed’s prior highlights like “Transmutational Craniotomy,” so the problem does not lie in the band’s sense of rhythm. Rather, my reservations about Cerebral Contamination come from a place of memorability and distinction. This material, while incredibly heavy and suitably dense for the style, lacks the same palpable, animalistic ferocity that helped distinguish the band’s unstoppable debut. As a result of this shortcoming, most deeply felt in Cerebral Contamination’s first three and last two tracks, Revulsed’s latest treads a little too close to the term “generic” a little too often for my tastes.

That being said, there’s no denying that Revulsed are pros, unreasonably talented, and fully capable of razing the ground without mercy. “Delusional Servitude” serves as the first example of the band firing on all cylinders, blisteringly fast while remaining coherent and deliriously hooky. In fact, Cerebral Contamination’s entire midsection—spanning from track four all the way through track nine—houses Revulsed’s absolute best material. “Beyond the Depths of the Subconscious” riffs and noodles like the most vicious Suffocation track on speed and bath salts. “Perditional Enslavement” boasts its Defeated Sanity and Afterbirth heritage proudly, squealing with all of the wonderfully pinched, wriggling glee that you’d expect from a brutal band with such inspirations. Album highlights “Nefarious Devourment” and “Inconceivable Hallucinations” push even further, taking that heritage and shoving past it through excellent use of cymbal trickery, novel songwriting twists, and excessively groovy riffs that remind me only vaguely of Unbirth. Ultimately, these two tracks not only represent pure, untainted Revulsed, but also their current career best.

If Revulsed stuffed Cerebral Contaminations with songs of the same elevated caliber as the aforementioned “Nefarious Devourment,” the rating you see below would be higher. However, because this material sometimes lacks the same indelible zing that made Infernal Atrocity feel special—and because Revulsed clings too closely to their colleagues to truly stand-alone—my recommendation comes with small caveats. While not quite the barnstormer that is Infernal Atrocity, Cerebral Contamination remains a very good brutal death metal record that solidifies Revulsed as a major contender in the scene.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 51 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Websites: revulsed.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/RevulsedDM
Releases Worldwide: December 15th, 2023

#2023 #35 #Afterbirth #AustralianMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #CerebralContamination #DeathMetal #Dec23 #DefeatedSanity #EverlastingSpewRecords #Review #Reviews #Revulsed #Suffocation #TechnicalDeathMetal #Unbirth #UnfathomableRuination

Cryptworm – Oozing Radioactive Vomition Review

By Steel Druhm

Cryptworm’s 2022 Spewing Mephitic Putridity debut completely satisfied my shameful desires for a death metal album sounding like someone vomiting gut slime and mega-maggots for 33 minutes. It was repulsive, obnoxious, stupid, and fun. It was also really heavy, borrowing key chapters from Autopsy and early Carcass. I go back to it regularly, so the UK-based blokes did something right. Now hot on the heels of this grisly triumph, we get a brand new splatter platter called Oozing Radioactive Vomition, featuring cover art depicting a pack of n00bs having their first AMG promo sump excursion. They’re so cute! There have been some changes at Camp Crypt since last time, and instead of operating as a gruesome twosome, now it’s Tibor Hanyi with a new bassist and drummer in support. You know these tomb moldy fucks haven’t evolved in the scant time between releases, so you can expect more of the same bloody glop and scuzzy gunk heard last time, full of moist and pasty sub-sub-basement vocals and heavy caveman grooves thick enough to resist tank munitions. But can you rely on this to meet your intrinsic vomitcore needs?

The same things that made Spewing so refreshing are still interred here. Tibor’s insane death croaks and gurgles are still a total blast and since he’s completely incomprehensible, sometimes he sounds like the Swedish Chef from The Muppet Show, and that’s just awesome. The opening title track is d-beaty, dumb, and fugly, with a loud, pongy snare that will annoy the fook outta most normal music lovers. People like us will love it though, along with the borderline slam tendencies, and wish they played this kind of stuff at the local mall and in office elevators. Huge chugs and fat, greasy grooves proliferate and over the top of it all lays Tibor’s repellant and infectious death gibberish. It’s a winning recipe here as it was on the debut. That said, the song feels like it runs too long at 5:45. This becomes a theme across Oozing, with every track in the 5-6 minute window. “Organ Snatcher” does quite a bit with its extended runtime, dabbling in Autopsy murder smut and Carcass gore with a jaunty, upbeat energy that makes the nastiness seem ironic, but it too feels too long in the end. “Necrophagous” fares fairly well despite the elongated lifespan, with a relentlessly vile, disgusting vibe full of slithering leads, bunker-busting grooves, and scuzzy, wet vocals.

The tendency to stretch out these highly toxic concoctions doesn’t work in the album’s favor. No selection is bad, but some tracks suffer more for their bloat than others, and nearly every cut feels like it should end before it finally does. At a slim 35 minutes, Oozing feels longer than it should due to the bloat, and that diminishes some good and very good death metal moments. The writing feels more formulaic this time as well, with certain tropes reoccurring across different tracks, giving the album a bit of a one-note vibe. The drum sound is another issue, with the snare set to “Pong Master Series.” It will work for some way more than others. Ultimately, it’s the combination of poor editing and homogenous writing that limits the impact Oozing has, though it remains an entertainingly raucous dose of Neanderthal death metal dipped in fresh poo-crust.

As with the last album, Tibor Hanyi absolutely kills it as a death metal vocalist, providing some of the most godawful, garbage disposal-esque vocalizing you’ll hear this year. I can’t get enough of his “garbage monster with Covid” style and hearing him regurgitate his guts makes me smile every time. He’s more than a capable guitarist as well and there are some notably cool, sticky riffs splashed across the album. He has a real knack for sick grooves and mammoth chugs and these serve the material well. It does seem like he fell back on generic d-beat leads too often this time though, making the songs bleed together into soupy shit-Jello. New drummer Jamie Wintle (Seprevation) does a fine job despite the merciless pong assault and he lays in some interesting fills and rolls amid the chugging and brutish d-beating.

I had some misgivings seeing a new Cryptworm platter so soon after the last one, and maybe the rush to follow up Spewing is why Oozing Radioactive Vomition feels less impactful. Still, I love what Cryptworm are all about so I’ll have a goodly amount of fun with this regardless. You will too if you’re a cellar-dwelling death metal scum leech. Test your Worm tolerance and self-diagnosis immediately.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo
Websites: cryptworm.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cryptworm
Releases Worldwide: December 15th, 2023

#2023 #30 #Autopsy #Carcass #Cryptworm #DeathMetal #Dec23 #MeSacoUnOjoRecords #OoozingRadioactiveVomition #Review #Reviews #SpewingMephiticPutridity #UKMetal

Cryptworm – Oozing Radioactive Vomition Review

By Steel Druhm

Cryptworm’s 2022 Spewing Mephitic Putridity debut completely satisfied my shameful desires for a death metal album sounding like someone vomiting gut slime and mega-maggots for 33 minutes. It was repulsive, obnoxious, stupid, and fun. It was also really heavy, borrowing key chapters from Autopsy and early Carcass. I go back to it regularly, so the UK-based blokes did something right. Now hot on the heels of this grisly triumph, we get a brand new splatter platter called Oozing Radioactive Vomition, featuring cover art depicting a pack of n00bs having their first AMG promo sump excursion. They’re so cute! There have been some changes at Camp Crypt since last time, and instead of operating as a gruesome twosome, now it’s Tibor Hanyi with a new bassist and drummer in support. You know these tomb moldy fucks haven’t evolved in the scant time between releases, so you can expect more of the same bloody glop and scuzzy gunk heard last time, full of moist and pasty sub-sub-basement vocals and heavy caveman grooves thick enough to resist tank munitions. But can you rely on this to meet your intrinsic vomitcore needs?

The same things that made Spewing so refreshing are still interred here. Tibor’s insane death croaks and gurgles are still a total blast and since he’s completely incomprehensible, sometimes he sounds like the Swedish Chef from The Muppet Show, and that’s just awesome. The opening title track is d-beaty, dumb, and fugly, with a loud, pongy snare that will annoy the fook outta most normal music lovers. People like us will love it though, along with the borderline slam tendencies, and wish they played this kind of stuff at the local mall and in office elevators. Huge chugs and fat, greasy grooves proliferate and over the top of it all lays Tibor’s repellant and infectious death gibberish. It’s a winning recipe here as it was on the debut. That said, the song feels like it runs too long at 5:45. This becomes a theme across Oozing, with every track in the 5-6 minute window. “Organ Snatcher” does quite a bit with its extended runtime, dabbling in Autopsy murder smut and Carcass gore with a jaunty, upbeat energy that makes the nastiness seem ironic, but it too feels too long in the end. “Necrophagous” fares fairly well despite the elongated lifespan, with a relentlessly vile, disgusting vibe full of slithering leads, bunker-busting grooves, and scuzzy, wet vocals.

The tendency to stretch out these highly toxic concoctions doesn’t work in the album’s favor. No selection is bad, but some tracks suffer more for their bloat than others, and nearly every cut feels like it should end before it finally does. At a slim 35 minutes, Oozing feels longer than it should due to the bloat, and that diminishes some good and very good death metal moments. The writing feels more formulaic this time as well, with certain tropes reoccurring across different tracks, giving the album a bit of a one-note vibe. The drum sound is another issue, with the snare set to “Pong Master Series.” It will work for some way more than others. Ultimately, it’s the combination of poor editing and homogenous writing that limits the impact Oozing has, though it remains an entertainingly raucous dose of Neanderthal death metal dipped in fresh poo-crust.

As with the last album, Tibor Hanyi absolutely kills it as a death metal vocalist, providing some of the most godawful, garbage disposal-esque vocalizing you’ll hear this year. I can’t get enough of his “garbage monster with Covid” style and hearing him regurgitate his guts makes me smile every time. He’s more than a capable guitarist as well and there are some notably cool, sticky riffs splashed across the album. He has a real knack for sick grooves and mammoth chugs and these serve the material well. It does seem like he fell back on generic d-beat leads too often this time though, making the songs bleed together into soupy shit-Jello. New drummer Jamie Wintle (Seprevation) does a fine job despite the merciless pong assault and he lays in some interesting fills and rolls amid the chugging and brutish d-beating.

I had some misgivings seeing a new Cryptworm platter so soon after the last one, and maybe the rush to follow up Spewing is why Oozing Radioactive Vomition feels less impactful. Still, I love what Cryptworm are all about so I’ll have a goodly amount of fun with this regardless. You will too if you’re a cellar-dwelling death metal scum leech. Test your Worm tolerance and self-diagnosis immediately.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo
Websites: cryptworm.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cryptworm
Releases Worldwide: December 15th, 2023

#2023 #30 #Autopsy #Carcass #Cryptworm #DeathMetal #Dec23 #MeSacoUnOjoRecords #OoozingRadioactiveVomition #Review #Reviews #SpewingMephiticPutridity #UKMetal

Jarhead Fertilizer – Carceral Warfare Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

There’s disgusting death metal, there’s brutal death metal, then there’s death metal that walks into a room and makes you wonder if anyone else in that room has a restraining order against it. Autopsy may have pioneered this brand of whiplash, burner phone grooves against parole-violating subject matter, but Jarhead Fertilizer—featuring mostly current or former members of grinders Full of Hell—has taken the campy idea of that putrid stance and added to it a real-world violence. What do you expect when their namesake (and logo style) comes from Dystopia and the track “Jarhead Fertilizer,” a crusty anthem that holds a decidedly anti-military stance. Jarhead’s weapons are different though, imbuing their partner act’s trudging and noisy powerviolence tendencies with heavier-weight, death-addled grooves that set the stage not for cartoon skeletons or zombies but for a rusty-edged ambush in a skeezy back alley. A circle pit would be too comfortable.

Performance is the heart of heavy metal, and death metal is no different. But sometimes that hard-to-grasp heft that defines the brutality of extreme escapades can take a moment to latch. That level of base aggression and simple appearance blew a little by me the first couple times I heard 2021’s Product of My Environment. But over time, hooked by morbid curiosity to its intensity, the incendiary sample choices,1 feverish dips into stone-fisted breakdowns, and reckless drum expression that thunders as both murderous skanks and reluctantly controlled freeform fills, Jarhead won my heart over. Or, rather, they ripped it out, threw it down, and stomped it until it got the message. Acts in similar hardcore/slam space like Snuffed on Sight or Bodybox possess this same skill of maneuvering through remedial rhythms with an elevated stumble, but Jarhead wears it with a harrowing death-aligned roar.

The hammering yet natural flow throughout Carceral Warfare owes its shiv-like precision to smartly timed bursts of heaving death metal. Deep and vibrating animalistic snarls tee-up riffs the way you might hear in a prime Autopsy cut but with a different kind of mania—the voices of beings who grew up in the world that an act like that spat at (“Cell Warrior,” “Mark of the Beast,” “Hysteria”). Despite the viciousness and anger that a straining throat can manifest, Jarhead allows their mangled manifests to run through flush filters and other hazy modulations to denounce the humanity that the world around them tries to present (“Blood of the Lamb,” “Parasitic Pathology”). The landscape built by these primal chugs and carnal hisses oppresses.

A diverse array of media references and sound inclusions offer a unique atmosphere with layers of enjoyment. Opening Carceral Warfare with beats fit for an El-P rager and recalling that grimy, urban malaise in “Torture Cage” infuse an industrial hip-hop edge that’s as threatening as it is unconventional. Continuing to capture the tension of a downcast life, Jarhead pulls samples that highlight the inhumanity of war (“Wrath of Judas”) and call out the many vices (“Carceral Warfare”) of human behavior, even calling upon a tripped-out reading of Revelation 14:9-11 (“Parasitic Pathology”). None of these clips read straight, though, each receiving pitch-shifting, wonky panning, fizzled fades—anything to help these snippets devolve into the grumbling bass and jagged low-end runs that await them.

No matter how far away Carceral Warfare steps away from the traditional oompa bounce and piercing, feral leads of deathgrind, a thuggish tremolo and riff lurk in the shadows. And no matter how far into a societally disgusted message that Jarhead Fertilizer steps, a catastrophic tom barrage and demonic gurgle conjure a crooked-lipped, missing-tooth visage of nihilism. I haven’t a footing for any lyrics across beatdown—this worldview rests in action not speech. It’s not elevated. It’s diverse enough for its sub-30-minute run. Carceral Warfare’s only question is whether you accept Jarhead Fertilizer in all their scummy glory. And if you don’t? Well, you better learn to sleep with one eye open.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Closed Casket Activities | Bandcamp
Website: jarheadfertilizeroc.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#2023 #40 #AmericanMetal #Autopsy #Bodybox #CarceralWarfare #ClosedCasketActivities #DeathMetal #Deathgrind #Dec23 #Dystopia #ElP #FullOfHell #Grind #Grindcore #Hardcore #JarheadFertilizer #Powerviolence #Review #Reviews #SnuffedOnSight

Jarhead Fertilizer – Carceral Warfare Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

There’s disgusting death metal, there’s brutal death metal, then there’s death metal that walks into a room and makes you wonder if anyone else in that room has a restraining order against it. Autopsy may have pioneered this brand of whiplash, burner phone grooves against parole-violating subject matter, but Jarhead Fertilizer—featuring mostly current or former members of grinders Full of Hell—has taken the campy idea of that putrid stance and added to it a real-world violence. What do you expect when their namesake (and logo style) comes from Dystopia and the track “Jarhead Fertilizer,” a crusty anthem that holds a decidedly anti-military stance. Jarhead’s weapons are different though, imbuing their partner act’s trudging and noisy powerviolence tendencies with heavier-weight, death-addled grooves that set the stage not for cartoon skeletons or zombies but for a rusty-edged ambush in a skeezy back alley. A circle pit would be too comfortable.

Performance is the heart of heavy metal, and death metal is no different. But sometimes that hard-to-grasp heft that defines the brutality of extreme escapades can take a moment to latch. That level of base aggression and simple appearance blew a little by me the first couple times I heard 2021’s Product of My Environment. But over time, hooked by morbid curiosity to its intensity, the incendiary sample choices,1 feverish dips into stone-fisted breakdowns, and reckless drum expression that thunders as both murderous skanks and reluctantly controlled freeform fills, Jarhead won my heart over. Or, rather, they ripped it out, threw it down, and stomped it until it got the message. Acts in similar hardcore/slam space like Snuffed on Sight or Bodybox possess this same skill of maneuvering through remedial rhythms with an elevated stumble, but Jarhead wears it with a harrowing death-aligned roar.

The hammering yet natural flow throughout Carceral Warfare owes its shiv-like precision to smartly timed bursts of heaving death metal. Deep and vibrating animalistic snarls tee-up riffs the way you might hear in a prime Autopsy cut but with a different kind of mania—the voices of beings who grew up in the world that an act like that spat at (“Cell Warrior,” “Mark of the Beast,” “Hysteria”). Despite the viciousness and anger that a straining throat can manifest, Jarhead allows their mangled manifests to run through flush filters and other hazy modulations to denounce the humanity that the world around them tries to present (“Blood of the Lamb,” “Parasitic Pathology”). The landscape built by these primal chugs and carnal hisses oppresses.

A diverse array of media references and sound inclusions offer a unique atmosphere with layers of enjoyment. Opening Carceral Warfare with beats fit for an El-P rager and recalling that grimy, urban malaise in “Torture Cage” infuse an industrial hip-hop edge that’s as threatening as it is unconventional. Continuing to capture the tension of a downcast life, Jarhead pulls samples that highlight the inhumanity of war (“Wrath of Judas”) and call out the many vices (“Carceral Warfare”) of human behavior, even calling upon a tripped-out reading of Revelation 14:9-11 (“Parasitic Pathology”). None of these clips read straight, though, each receiving pitch-shifting, wonky panning, fizzled fades—anything to help these snippets devolve into the grumbling bass and jagged low-end runs that await them.

No matter how far away Carceral Warfare steps away from the traditional oompa bounce and piercing, feral leads of deathgrind, a thuggish tremolo and riff lurk in the shadows. And no matter how far into a societally disgusted message that Jarhead Fertilizer steps, a catastrophic tom barrage and demonic gurgle conjure a crooked-lipped, missing-tooth visage of nihilism. I haven’t a footing for any lyrics across beatdown—this worldview rests in action not speech. It’s not elevated. It’s diverse enough for its sub-30-minute run. Carceral Warfare’s only question is whether you accept Jarhead Fertilizer in all their scummy glory. And if you don’t? Well, you better learn to sleep with one eye open.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Closed Casket Activities | Bandcamp
Website: jarheadfertilizeroc.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#2023 #40 #AmericanMetal #Autopsy #Bodybox #CarceralWarfare #ClosedCasketActivities #DeathMetal #Deathgrind #Dec23 #Dystopia #ElP #FullOfHell #Grind #Grindcore #Hardcore #JarheadFertilizer #Powerviolence #Review #Reviews #SnuffedOnSight

Grau – Abseits des Lichts Review

By Twelve

I appreciate modern black metal. The original stuff is not for me at all, but there’s something about a well-polished flame of rage that just works for me. Stepping away from pure, often theatrical, hatred and into such things as emptiness, suffering, frustration—that stuff speaks to me. So when I read that Abseits des Lichts (“Outside of the Light”), the sophomore full-length from the German black metal Grau, lyrically focuses on “pain, emptiness, and the animalistic aspect of the human mind,” well, I was, to put it lightly, intrigued. Proposing a “more modern and complex approach” that mixes black, death, and doom metal, the band has lined up everything I could ask for in my black metal. Do they deliver the goods?

As the aforementioned promo material alludes, Grau does a very good job of blending black and death metal on Abseits des Lichts, incorporating touches of doom here and there to tie the whole together. Two tracks into the album, this dichotomy is on full display. “Einnerung” is the album opener, and, after a brief but effective intro, descends upon the listener with huge tremolos, blast beats, and M.K.’s vicious vocal assault. It works well, but so does the follower. “Niemy” opens with a sudden drop in tempo; the song feels closer to death-doom than black metal, despite the absolute assault M.B’s drums launch midway through. It’s a slower, more measured track that maintains the backdrop of black metal in a more immediate way. At first glance, these tracks may feel out of place next to each other, but there’s a beauty in Abseits des Lichts in that it all works anyway.

That beauty really lies in the atmosphere of the album; throughout, Grau craft bleak, angry, and, rarely, moving melodies that link each song together to form a cohesive album regardless of the stylistic shifts from song to song. It’s everywhere—in the adventurous black metal feast of “Fiebertraum,” the moody death metal ravaging of “Ohnmacht,” and the aforementioned assault of “Einnerung.” Everywhere you look, there’s a familiarity to Abseits des Lichts, a clear sense that this is one album, crafted under one idea, and everything is working together to perpetuate it. In this sense, the album performs extremely well; cathartic, familiar, and strong.

The main trouble I have with the album is really that the atmosphere, production, and mood are so prevalent that it winds up feeling overlong at 51 minutes. There are clear attempts to mitigate this, in the distant cleans in “Fraß,” the existence of interlude track “Wildnis,” and the album’s beautiful outro (“Outro”)—but in addition to being largely in the back half of the album, these moments also appear infrequently. The album’s production does a great job at emphasizing each instrument, but the songwriting is both too varied and not varied enough at once. There’s always a lot going on, but by the end of the album, despite the strength of “Fraß” as an individual song, it feels like more of the same. The feeling never fully shifts or wavers—as I said earlier, Grau does an excellent job of blending styles!

So on Abseits des Lichts, Grau come across as experts of their own music; this is an album that chiefly does one thing very well. Across the album, Grau crafts a thick, oppressive blanket of angry, bleak, and ferocious black metal. If, like me, that sounds like your thing, there is a lot to like here. I’ll look forward to the follow-up, and if I’m hoping now that there’ll be a little more nuance on it, that isn’t likely to stop me from returning to this release for some catharsis on a frustrating day.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Tragedy Productions
Websites: grau-band.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grau.blackmetal
Releases Worldwide: December 1st, 2023

#2023 #30 #AbseitsDesLichts #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #Dec23 #GermanMetal #Grau #Review #Reviews #TragedyProductions

Grau – Abseits des Lichts Review

By Twelve

I appreciate modern black metal. The original stuff is not for me at all, but there’s something about a well-polished flame of rage that just works for me. Stepping away from pure, often theatrical, hatred and into such things as emptiness, suffering, frustration—that stuff speaks to me. So when I read that Abseits des Lichts (“Outside of the Light”), the sophomore full-length from the German black metal Grau, lyrically focuses on “pain, emptiness, and the animalistic aspect of the human mind,” well, I was, to put it lightly, intrigued. Proposing a “more modern and complex approach” that mixes black, death, and doom metal, the band has lined up everything I could ask for in my black metal. Do they deliver the goods?

As the aforementioned promo material alludes, Grau does a very good job of blending black and death metal on Abseits des Lichts, incorporating touches of doom here and there to tie the whole together. Two tracks into the album, this dichotomy is on full display. “Einnerung” is the album opener, and, after a brief but effective intro, descends upon the listener with huge tremolos, blast beats, and M.K.’s vicious vocal assault. It works well, but so does the follower. “Niemy” opens with a sudden drop in tempo; the song feels closer to death-doom than black metal, despite the absolute assault M.B’s drums launch midway through. It’s a slower, more measured track that maintains the backdrop of black metal in a more immediate way. At first glance, these tracks may feel out of place next to each other, but there’s a beauty in Abseits des Lichts in that it all works anyway.

That beauty really lies in the atmosphere of the album; throughout, Grau craft bleak, angry, and, rarely, moving melodies that link each song together to form a cohesive album regardless of the stylistic shifts from song to song. It’s everywhere—in the adventurous black metal feast of “Fiebertraum,” the moody death metal ravaging of “Ohnmacht,” and the aforementioned assault of “Einnerung.” Everywhere you look, there’s a familiarity to Abseits des Lichts, a clear sense that this is one album, crafted under one idea, and everything is working together to perpetuate it. In this sense, the album performs extremely well; cathartic, familiar, and strong.

The main trouble I have with the album is really that the atmosphere, production, and mood are so prevalent that it winds up feeling overlong at 51 minutes. There are clear attempts to mitigate this, in the distant cleans in “Fraß,” the existence of interlude track “Wildnis,” and the album’s beautiful outro (“Outro”)—but in addition to being largely in the back half of the album, these moments also appear infrequently. The album’s production does a great job at emphasizing each instrument, but the songwriting is both too varied and not varied enough at once. There’s always a lot going on, but by the end of the album, despite the strength of “Fraß” as an individual song, it feels like more of the same. The feeling never fully shifts or wavers—as I said earlier, Grau does an excellent job of blending styles!

So on Abseits des Lichts, Grau come across as experts of their own music; this is an album that chiefly does one thing very well. Across the album, Grau crafts a thick, oppressive blanket of angry, bleak, and ferocious black metal. If, like me, that sounds like your thing, there is a lot to like here. I’ll look forward to the follow-up, and if I’m hoping now that there’ll be a little more nuance on it, that isn’t likely to stop me from returning to this release for some catharsis on a frustrating day.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Tragedy Productions
Websites: grau-band.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grau.blackmetal
Releases Worldwide: December 1st, 2023

#2023 #30 #AbseitsDesLichts #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #Dec23 #GermanMetal #Grau #Review #Reviews #TragedyProductions

Among the Rocks and Roots – Pariah Review

By Carcharodon

Some albums need a particular reviewer to get the appreciation they deserve. A reviewer who connects with, and is able to extol virtues of, the record, like a preacher patiently explaining some of the finer tenets of an obscure religion to the untrve masses. Roquentin was the man that Richmond duo Among the Rocks and Roots’ sophomore album, Raga, deserved. And needed, frankly. On other occasions, an album lands itself a reviewer who is spectacularly ill-equipped to deal with it. AtRaR’s third album, Pariah, is that record and I am that man. Knowing only that Raga scored a 4.0 and that Roqqy is on a permanent, entirely non-suspicious sabbatical, I stepped up, feeling that Pariah needed reviewing. I still feel that but I also now feel that it should have been reviewed by someone else. I expect AtRaR may feel the same if they read this.

The first thing to understand about Pariah1 is that it comprises only four compositions and yet clocks in at just over an hour and a half in length. Like its predecessors, with which I belatedly acquainted myself, this is an album for which structure is an abstract and distant concept. Drawing on post-hardcore, noise, drone, elements of jazz, and more, AtRaR explore semi-free form compositions, relying as heavily on hypnotic repetition as they do shifts in style and tempo. The concluding part of a trilogy that has explored the battle to conquer addiction, Pariah fairly seethes with an unstable anger. Far from coming to terms with life or reaching inner peace, AtRaR seems to glare at the world, baring its teeth.

Mesmerizing percussion and distorted bass lines form the spine of the record, over which rage the bellowed post-hardcore vox. A grimy, gritty blend of early Swans and Primitive Man, with some of the harsh unpredictability of Duma, Pariah rails against racism, white supremacy, and inequality (“Triumph”), as much as it paints the self-loathing of, and inner strength needed to beat, addiction (“III”). Passages of relative calm, like the contemplative, almost mournful strings introduced around 14 minutes into the title track, serve both to give much-needed breathing space and to enhance the stripped-back noise that bookends them. Devoid of breathers, mercy, or respite, “III” sees AtRaR at their rawest. The dual vocals, operating almost in call-and-response style in places, are propelled forward by d-beat drumming and thudding bass, which reaches a weird kind of groove around the 9-minute mark, feeling unstoppable. Although quieter musically, “Triumph” is by far the most uncomfortable thing on Pariah. Relying as much on unsettling static-laden electronica, and mesmerizing drumming as it does anything else, “Triumph” is built around the increasingly fraught audio from a police stop, which arrives at about the halfway point, with the balance of music and samples each serving to heighten the tension of the other.

Closing track “Love” initially offers up a sense of peace and melody not seen anywhere else on Pariah, with acoustic guitar work that could have come straight off ROSK’s Remnants, to which synths and strings are added, alongside clean female vocals. However, the layers gradually build, as more and more percussion is added, alongside squealing synths, electronica, and deliberately disharmonious vocals, making for a half-hour-plus aural soundscape that is very hard to put into words. Unusually for an album like Pariah, it is Abdul Hakim Bilal’s bass which, for me, is the star of the show. When it’s there, it gives energy, groove, drive, and a semblance of structure to the record, when it’s not there, I want it back. AtRaR has a raw, vitriolic feel to it, which the vocals, a joint effort between Hakim Bilal and co-conspirator Samuel Goff, play to, even in the slower, insistent passages of “Love” and “Pariah.” This sense is deliberately enhanced by the production, which feels claustrophobic and oppressive: each time closer “Love” crashes to its conclusion, I feel like a weight is lifted off.

Roquentin described Raga as a “manifestly real album.” The same can be said of Pariah. Exhausting and often deeply uncomfortable listening, you feel AtRaR. However, unless you are willing to focus and dedicate yourself to this record, there is absolutely no point in listening to Pariah. While I got a lot more out of this record than I expected, I cannot sustain the concentration (nor slip into a receptive catatonic state) long enough to take in everything this record is in a single sitting. Whether this is my fault or the record’s (I can’t help but feel the latter), others can decide. How then to score, or even describe, Among the Rocks and Roots’ Pariah … a deeply unsettling, chaotically emotive, exhaustingly overlong triumph? Maybe?

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Cacophonous Revival Recordings
Websites: amongtherocksandroots.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/amongtherocksandroots
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#2023 #30 #AmericanMetal #AmongTheRocksAndRoots #AvantGarde #CacophonousRevivalRecordings #Dec23 #Drone #Duma #Noise #Pariah #PostHardcore #PrimitiveMan #Remnants #Review #Reviews #ROSK #Swans

Among the Rocks and Roots – Pariah Review

By Carcharodon

Some albums need a particular reviewer to get the appreciation they deserve. A reviewer who connects with, and is able to extol virtues of, the record, like a preacher patiently explaining some of the finer tenets of an obscure religion to the untrve masses. Roquentin was the man that Richmond duo Among the Rocks and Roots’ sophomore album, Raga, deserved. And needed, frankly. On other occasions, an album lands itself a reviewer who is spectacularly ill-equipped to deal with it. AtRaR’s third album, Pariah, is that record and I am that man. Knowing only that Raga scored a 4.0 and that Roqqy is on a permanent, entirely non-suspicious sabbatical, I stepped up, feeling that Pariah needed reviewing. I still feel that but I also now feel that it should have been reviewed by someone else. I expect AtRaR may feel the same if they read this.

The first thing to understand about Pariah1 is that it comprises only four compositions and yet clocks in at just over an hour and a half in length. Like its predecessors, with which I belatedly acquainted myself, this is an album for which structure is an abstract and distant concept. Drawing on post-hardcore, noise, drone, elements of jazz, and more, AtRaR explore semi-free form compositions, relying as heavily on hypnotic repetition as they do shifts in style and tempo. The concluding part of a trilogy that has explored the battle to conquer addiction, Pariah fairly seethes with an unstable anger. Far from coming to terms with life or reaching inner peace, AtRaR seems to glare at the world, baring its teeth.

Mesmerizing percussion and distorted bass lines form the spine of the record, over which rage the bellowed post-hardcore vox. A grimy, gritty blend of early Swans and Primitive Man, with some of the harsh unpredictability of Duma, Pariah rails against racism, white supremacy, and inequality (“Triumph”), as much as it paints the self-loathing of, and inner strength needed to beat, addiction (“III”). Passages of relative calm, like the contemplative, almost mournful strings introduced around 14 minutes into the title track, serve both to give much-needed breathing space and to enhance the stripped-back noise that bookends them. Devoid of breathers, mercy, or respite, “III” sees AtRaR at their rawest. The dual vocals, operating almost in call-and-response style in places, are propelled forward by d-beat drumming and thudding bass, which reaches a weird kind of groove around the 9-minute mark, feeling unstoppable. Although quieter musically, “Triumph” is by far the most uncomfortable thing on Pariah. Relying as much on unsettling static-laden electronica, and mesmerizing drumming as it does anything else, “Triumph” is built around the increasingly fraught audio from a police stop, which arrives at about the halfway point, with the balance of music and samples each serving to heighten the tension of the other.

Closing track “Love” initially offers up a sense of peace and melody not seen anywhere else on Pariah, with acoustic guitar work that could have come straight off ROSK’s Remnants, to which synths and strings are added, alongside clean female vocals. However, the layers gradually build, as more and more percussion is added, alongside squealing synths, electronica, and deliberately disharmonious vocals, making for a half-hour-plus aural soundscape that is very hard to put into words. Unusually for an album like Pariah, it is Abdul Hakim Bilal’s bass which, for me, is the star of the show. When it’s there, it gives energy, groove, drive, and a semblance of structure to the record, when it’s not there, I want it back. AtRaR has a raw, vitriolic feel to it, which the vocals, a joint effort between Hakim Bilal and co-conspirator Samuel Goff, play to, even in the slower, insistent passages of “Love” and “Pariah.” This sense is deliberately enhanced by the production, which feels claustrophobic and oppressive: each time closer “Love” crashes to its conclusion, I feel like a weight is lifted off.

Roquentin described Raga as a “manifestly real album.” The same can be said of Pariah. Exhausting and often deeply uncomfortable listening, you feel AtRaR. However, unless you are willing to focus and dedicate yourself to this record, there is absolutely no point in listening to Pariah. While I got a lot more out of this record than I expected, I cannot sustain the concentration (nor slip into a receptive catatonic state) long enough to take in everything this record is in a single sitting. Whether this is my fault or the record’s (I can’t help but feel the latter), others can decide. How then to score, or even describe, Among the Rocks and Roots’ Pariah … a deeply unsettling, chaotically emotive, exhaustingly overlong triumph? Maybe?

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Cacophonous Revival Recordings
Websites: amongtherocksandroots.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/amongtherocksandroots
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#2023 #30 #AmericanMetal #AmongTheRocksAndRoots #AvantGarde #CacophonousRevivalRecordings #Dec23 #Drone #Duma #Noise #Pariah #PostHardcore #PrimitiveMan #Remnants #Review #Reviews #ROSK #Swans

Slow – Ab​î​mes I Review

By Kenstrosity

There was a time, not long ago, when I would’ve proclaimed myself an avid Slow fan. That was before I claimed the rights to cover the Belgian funeral doom duo’s ninth album, Ab​î​mes I. All this time, I had no idea Slow was so productive. In retrospect I don’t know why this surprised me, considering the prolific multi-instrumentalist Déhà is the project’s mastermind. Furthermore, I had no idea Slow spawned all the way back in 2007. My complete negligence regarding Slow’s origins and extensive back catalog qualifies me as the quintessential “false fan.” But rest assured, once I’m done with this write-up for Ab​î​mes I, I’m catching up post haste.

Funeral doom is one of metal’s dark arts. Incredibly difficult to write and play well, few artists dare to attempt. Moreover, selling fun-doom to the masses is often a futile effort, as its crawling pace and depressive tonality make for a difficult listen for many who are accustomed to breakneck speeds and blistering fury in their metal. However, if there was any act that could seal the deal, it’s Slow. Déhà’s flagship project reliably provides deep emotional charge, monumental scale, lush drama, and affecting musicality of similar caliber to genre stalwarts Convocation, Eye of Solitude, Clouds, and Un. Slow’s particular application of the style strikes at the heart, and Ab​î​mes I is no exception. More stripped down than the opulent VI – Dantalion yet more musical than V – Oceans, Slow’s first installment in their latest arc focuses on the metallic core of their sound more than ever. Propping Déhà’s bleeding heart lead guitars, tight drumming, and monstrous roars with Lore’s brobdingnagian bass on a well-deserved pedestal, Ab​î​mes I progresses Slow’s funereal doom forward with a subtle, but effective shift.

At a remarkably tight forty-four minutes across four songs, Ab​î​mes I is a testament to the power of editing, even in funeral doom. Song by song, Slow’s retains their trademarked sense of scale in full force, with its shortest track clocking in at eight-and-a-half minutes (“Abyss”), while its longest pushes a bit past fourteen (“Collapse”). However, Ab​î​mes I’s songwriting is so smooth and well-paced that it moves with the inexorable momentum of a tidal wave. Before I know it, the closing notes of the weeping “Collapse” ring with all of the affecting mournfulness my soul could ask for. Along the way, minimalist but clever bits of detailing penetrate deeply inside my memory—the awesome, and unexpectedly shreddy, solos in both “Barren” and “Abyss”; the incredibly catchy, roaring refrain of “I CLAWED MY WAY OUT” in “Abyss”; Déhà’s especially mammoth vocal performance and lush atmosphere in both “Implode” and “Collapse”—allowing each of these four death marches to stand out with their own respective voices, elevating a cohesive whole. As a result, not only is Ab​î​mes I unreasonably easy to spin on repeat for indeterminate amounts of time, but it is a joy to do so to despite the record’s woeful nature.

Ab​î​mes I offers much to the listener willing to give it the proper time to bloom, but it lacks the counterintuitive immediacy and devastating meteor impact of its predecessor—and its direct competitor this year, Convocation’s No Dawn for the Caliginous Night. Unfortunate as it is, there’s no avoiding the comparison and, in that light, Ab​î​mes I falls a bit short. Simple, minimalist songwriting works well for Slow more often than not, but in this case, the record’s restrained composition gives it a slightly underdeveloped feel. Compounding this issue, a few lead guitar lines in “Implode” and “Collapse” sound oddly similar to material found in Slow’s previous works. Of course, this may simply be a byproduct of Déhà’s frankly intimidating productivity diluting some of his trademark themes. Regardless, Ab​î​mes I could only be improved by massaging those areas which threaten self-plagiarism and including just a few more finishing details on the final product.

As an aside, I applaud Slow’s mixing and mastering of Ab​î​mes I. Proof that you can construct a disastrously heavy sound that’s impressively layered and pleasant to hear without unnecessary compression, this production may very well be one of the best I’ve heard all year. But I digress. The bottom line is that Ab​î​mes I is another rock-solid installment in a long-standing, reliable discography of quality funeral doom. It may not convert any newcomers, and it isn’t the top of its class this year, but it is still damn good and well worth my time.

Rating: Good!
DR: 13 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Aural Music
Websites: slowdooom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/slowdooom
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#2023 #30 #AbîMesI #AtmosphericMetal #AuralMusic #BelgianMetal #Clouds #Convocation #DeathDoom #Dec23 #Déhà #Doom #DoomMetal #EyeOfSolitude #FuneralDoom #Review #Reviews #Slow #Un

Slow – Ab​î​mes I Review

By Kenstrosity

There was a time, not long ago, when I would’ve proclaimed myself an avid Slow fan. That was before I claimed the rights to cover the Belgian funeral doom duo’s ninth album, Ab​î​mes I. All this time, I had no idea Slow was so productive. In retrospect I don’t know why this surprised me, considering the prolific multi-instrumentalist Déhà is the project’s mastermind. Furthermore, I had no idea Slow spawned all the way back in 2007. My complete negligence regarding Slow’s origins and extensive back catalog qualifies me as the quintessential “false fan.” But rest assured, once I’m done with this write-up for Ab​î​mes I, I’m catching up post haste.

Funeral doom is one of metal’s dark arts. Incredibly difficult to write and play well, few artists dare to attempt. Moreover, selling fun-doom to the masses is often a futile effort, as its crawling pace and depressive tonality make for a difficult listen for many who are accustomed to breakneck speeds and blistering fury in their metal. However, if there was any act that could seal the deal, it’s Slow. Déhà’s flagship project reliably provides deep emotional charge, monumental scale, lush drama, and affecting musicality of similar caliber to genre stalwarts Convocation, Eye of Solitude, Clouds, and Un. Slow’s particular application of the style strikes at the heart, and Ab​î​mes I is no exception. More stripped down than the opulent VI – Dantalion yet more musical than V – Oceans, Slow’s first installment in their latest arc focuses on the metallic core of their sound more than ever. Propping Déhà’s bleeding heart lead guitars, tight drumming, and monstrous roars with Lore’s brobdingnagian bass on a well-deserved pedestal, Ab​î​mes I progresses Slow’s funereal doom forward with a subtle, but effective shift.

At a remarkably tight forty-four minutes across four songs, Ab​î​mes I is a testament to the power of editing, even in funeral doom. Song by song, Slow’s retains their trademarked sense of scale in full force, with its shortest track clocking in at eight-and-a-half minutes (“Abyss”), while its longest pushes a bit past fourteen (“Collapse”). However, Ab​î​mes I’s songwriting is so smooth and well-paced that it moves with the inexorable momentum of a tidal wave. Before I know it, the closing notes of the weeping “Collapse” ring with all of the affecting mournfulness my soul could ask for. Along the way, minimalist but clever bits of detailing penetrate deeply inside my memory—the awesome, and unexpectedly shreddy, solos in both “Barren” and “Abyss”; the incredibly catchy, roaring refrain of “I CLAWED MY WAY OUT” in “Abyss”; Déhà’s especially mammoth vocal performance and lush atmosphere in both “Implode” and “Collapse”—allowing each of these four death marches to stand out with their own respective voices, elevating a cohesive whole. As a result, not only is Ab​î​mes I unreasonably easy to spin on repeat for indeterminate amounts of time, but it is a joy to do so to despite the record’s woeful nature.

Ab​î​mes I offers much to the listener willing to give it the proper time to bloom, but it lacks the counterintuitive immediacy and devastating meteor impact of its predecessor—and its direct competitor this year, Convocation’s No Dawn for the Caliginous Night. Unfortunate as it is, there’s no avoiding the comparison and, in that light, Ab​î​mes I falls a bit short. Simple, minimalist songwriting works well for Slow more often than not, but in this case, the record’s restrained composition gives it a slightly underdeveloped feel. Compounding this issue, a few lead guitar lines in “Implode” and “Collapse” sound oddly similar to material found in Slow’s previous works. Of course, this may simply be a byproduct of Déhà’s frankly intimidating productivity diluting some of his trademark themes. Regardless, Ab​î​mes I could only be improved by massaging those areas which threaten self-plagiarism and including just a few more finishing details on the final product.

As an aside, I applaud Slow’s mixing and mastering of Ab​î​mes I. Proof that you can construct a disastrously heavy sound that’s impressively layered and pleasant to hear without unnecessary compression, this production may very well be one of the best I’ve heard all year. But I digress. The bottom line is that Ab​î​mes I is another rock-solid installment in a long-standing, reliable discography of quality funeral doom. It may not convert any newcomers, and it isn’t the top of its class this year, but it is still damn good and well worth my time.

Rating: Good!
DR: 13 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Aural Music
Websites: slowdooom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/slowdooom
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#2023 #30 #AbîMesI #AtmosphericMetal #AuralMusic #BelgianMetal #Clouds #Convocation #DeathDoom #Dec23 #Déhà #Doom #DoomMetal #EyeOfSolitude #FuneralDoom #Review #Reviews #Slow #Un

Varathron – The Crimson Temple Review

By Doom_et_Al

“Always respect an old man still playing in a young man’s game,” the saying goes. “There’s a reason they’re still around.” With that in mind, it’s curious how little attention Greek black metal stalwarts, Varathon, generally receive. Formed 35 years ago in an era when many AMG staff had not been conceived, and Steel Druhm still had hair, Varathon were instrumental in establishing the famous “Hellenic black metal sound” alongside legends such as Rotting Christ and Macabre Omen. Perhaps it’s the frequent line-up changes, or the lengthy gap between albums (at 7 albums in 35 years, they’re no Rogga Johannson), or maybe it’s the long shadow cast by more famous contemporaries, but for whatever reason, these influential elders have long flown under the radar (only 2014’s Untrodden Corridors of Hades has been reviewed on this site). That’s a pity, because 2018’s Patriarchs of Evil was a fantastic slab of black metal goodness, crying out for TYMHM treatment. Now these legends are back with The Crimson Temple. Does the AMG Law of Diminishing ReturnsTM apply? Or does wisdom keep the inevitable at bay?

What’s always set Varathron apart from many pretenders is their willingness to incorporate elements of traditional metal into the black metal aesthetic. Yes, you’ve got the occult influences; yes, you’ve got the synths and the tremolos; but what you may not be expecting is the strong emphasis on riff-based melodies and a classic approach to songwriting. No long, pointless doodles or interludes… no, what we have here is verse-chorus-verse of the good stuff, with minimal bloat or drag. As their career has progressed, Varathon’s production have improved massively, with the music becoming more melodic and accessible. As we arrive at The Crimson Temple, we are, by black metal standards, in accessible territory, with Varathon continuing the trend of shinier production, catchier melodies, and a lighter approach. There’s also an embrace of slightly different styles (thrash, doom, and death metal all weave their way in). It’s with these explorations that things go slightly awry. While never unenjoyable, the new forays result in the band occasionally getting bogged down.

The Crimson Temple starts incredibly strongly, with three bangers right out of the gate. “Hegemony of Chaos,” “Crypts in the Mist,” and “Cimmerian Priesthood” highlight what makes Varathon such a potent outfit. There’s a perfect blend of evil atmosphere, catchy melodies, strong performances, and that uniquely Hellenic propulsion. These songs move, and they do so with purpose and momentum. I defy you not to tap your foot while listening to the chorus of “Crypts in the Mist.” Go on, just try it. If we’d had an album of these, we would all be rearranging our end-of-year lists. This approach isn’t completely abandoned in the second half, but only “Shrouds of the Miasmic Winds” comes close to capturing the early magic.

The Crimson Temple loses its footing when it marches gamely into realms Varathon aren’t as adept in. “Immortalis Regnum Diaboli,” with its emphasis on thrash, is only partially convincing, and that’s when the chorus steers back to black metal. “To the Gods of Yore” goes for a doomy, slower vibe that’s atmospheric, but boring. Varathon did this slow-song trick before, but whereas the more sedate parts on albums such as Patriarchs of Evil had gorgeous, melancholic synths, here we just have plodding guitars. It’s also a pity that most of the good material appears on the first half of the album, making it feel very unbalanced. There’s a noticeable loss of momentum as you head into the final quarter.

The Crimson Temple is incredibly frustrating to review. When it’s on fire, it’s excellent, highlighting what a potent and enjoyable band Varathron can be. I understand they wanted to experiment and avoid making an album of the same song repeated 10 times. But when that song is such a banger, I suppose I wanted them to do just that. The Crimson Temple shows that Varathon are not content to fly on autopilot in the twilight of their career. But sometimes, with age, comes wisdom. And wisdom is knowing what you’re good at and sticking with it. If there is another album in 6-7 years, I would love Varathon to consider that.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: varathron.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/varathron
Released Worldwide: December 1st, 2023

#2023 #30 #AgoniaRecords #BlackMetal #Dec23 #GreekMetal #MacabreOmen #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #Varathron

Varathron – The Crimson Temple Review

By Doom_et_Al

“Always respect an old man still playing in a young man’s game,” the saying goes. “There’s a reason they’re still around.” With that in mind, it’s curious how little attention Greek black metal stalwarts, Varathon, generally receive. Formed 35 years ago in an era when many AMG staff had not been conceived, and Steel Druhm still had hair, Varathon were instrumental in establishing the famous “Hellenic black metal sound” alongside legends such as Rotting Christ and Macabre Omen. Perhaps it’s the frequent line-up changes, or the lengthy gap between albums (at 7 albums in 35 years, they’re no Rogga Johannson), or maybe it’s the long shadow cast by more famous contemporaries, but for whatever reason, these influential elders have long flown under the radar (only 2014’s Untrodden Corridors of Hades has been reviewed on this site). That’s a pity, because 2018’s Patriarchs of Evil was a fantastic slab of black metal goodness, crying out for TYMHM treatment. Now these legends are back with The Crimson Temple. Does the AMG Law of Diminishing ReturnsTM apply? Or does wisdom keep the inevitable at bay?

What’s always set Varathron apart from many pretenders is their willingness to incorporate elements of traditional metal into the black metal aesthetic. Yes, you’ve got the occult influences; yes, you’ve got the synths and the tremolos; but what you may not be expecting is the strong emphasis on riff-based melodies and a classic approach to songwriting. No long, pointless doodles or interludes… no, what we have here is verse-chorus-verse of the good stuff, with minimal bloat or drag. As their career has progressed, Varathon’s production have improved massively, with the music becoming more melodic and accessible. As we arrive at The Crimson Temple, we are, by black metal standards, in accessible territory, with Varathon continuing the trend of shinier production, catchier melodies, and a lighter approach. There’s also an embrace of slightly different styles (thrash, doom, and death metal all weave their way in). It’s with these explorations that things go slightly awry. While never unenjoyable, the new forays result in the band occasionally getting bogged down.

The Crimson Temple starts incredibly strongly, with three bangers right out of the gate. “Hegemony of Chaos,” “Crypts in the Mist,” and “Cimmerian Priesthood” highlight what makes Varathon such a potent outfit. There’s a perfect blend of evil atmosphere, catchy melodies, strong performances, and that uniquely Hellenic propulsion. These songs move, and they do so with purpose and momentum. I defy you not to tap your foot while listening to the chorus of “Crypts in the Mist.” Go on, just try it. If we’d had an album of these, we would all be rearranging our end-of-year lists. This approach isn’t completely abandoned in the second half, but only “Shrouds of the Miasmic Winds” comes close to capturing the early magic.

The Crimson Temple loses its footing when it marches gamely into realms Varathon aren’t as adept in. “Immortalis Regnum Diaboli,” with its emphasis on thrash, is only partially convincing, and that’s when the chorus steers back to black metal. “To the Gods of Yore” goes for a doomy, slower vibe that’s atmospheric, but boring. Varathon did this slow-song trick before, but whereas the more sedate parts on albums such as Patriarchs of Evil had gorgeous, melancholic synths, here we just have plodding guitars. It’s also a pity that most of the good material appears on the first half of the album, making it feel very unbalanced. There’s a noticeable loss of momentum as you head into the final quarter.

The Crimson Temple is incredibly frustrating to review. When it’s on fire, it’s excellent, highlighting what a potent and enjoyable band Varathron can be. I understand they wanted to experiment and avoid making an album of the same song repeated 10 times. But when that song is such a banger, I suppose I wanted them to do just that. The Crimson Temple shows that Varathon are not content to fly on autopilot in the twilight of their career. But sometimes, with age, comes wisdom. And wisdom is knowing what you’re good at and sticking with it. If there is another album in 6-7 years, I would love Varathon to consider that.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records
Websites: varathron.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/varathron
Released Worldwide: December 1st, 2023

#2023 #30 #AgoniaRecords #BlackMetal #Dec23 #GreekMetal #MacabreOmen #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #Varathron

Dwelling Below -Dwelling Below Review

By Thus Spoke

I don’t know what exactly it is that’s Dwelling Below, but if it’s anything like whatever the cover art is depicting then I’m afraid. Beneath the surface, the music of this debut self-titled also lends itself to feelings of unease and apprehension. Formed from members of Acausal Intrusion, Hollowed Idols, and Sermon of Rot, Dwelling Below lurks in the dark and viscous slime of doomy blackened death. Where cavernous bellows resonate over slippery sinister riffage, whining guitar lines slide in and out of the gnashing, grinding chords, and bass drum rumbles with ominous severity. Combining the brutish sludginess of the ugliest of death-doom, and the hostile discordance of extreme metal’s dissonant side, Dwelling Below is about as heavy as it gets. Its mad art and pedigree calls, so let’s dive in.

Across just four songs, Dwelling Below makes good on its portentous promise. That weird synth that opens “Attraction Vulgarity” begins and I’m already afraid. And the repeating patterns of creeping scales and sudden descents from cacophonous blackened death into crawling doom that follow for the next 37 minutes continue this omnipresent feeling of unease. The particular style of gurgling bellows, cavernously echoing alongside lurching guitar, ringing with dissonance frequently recalls Defacement (“Attraction Vulgarity”), while the snakelike solos and general malevolent aura are reminiscent of Qrixkuor (“Swallowed,” “Sheltered Acceptance”). There’s also plenty of high-strung string manipulation and anxiety-inducing technicality you might expect from the affiliated Acausal Intrusion (“Emergence Sublimation”). These elements come together quite magnificently (by which I of course mean horrifyingly). Naturally slipping from speed to slowness, and from eerie—almost melodious—refrain to densely clustered mania.

Dwelling Below really succeed in crafting songs that feel coherent and parsable whilst still being chaotic, unconventional, and inaccessible. We’re not talking verse-chorus-verse here of course, but the songs each have a somewhat cyclical structure that gives you something to cling onto amidst the snafu. All songs revolve around several central patterns or theme, whether that’s a series of low panic chords (“Swallowed”); a chilling guitar descent (“Emergence Sublimation,” “Sheltered Acceptance”); or returning skids into a ringing, d-beat charge (“Attraction Vulgarity”). The music’s overall unfriendliness causes the rare moments of true melody to break the surface with thrilling immediacy. From the high, churning guitar gradually rising in “Swallowed,” to the mournful descending tremolos in “Emergence Sublimation,” and the genuinely beautiful refrain that arises in “Sheltered Acceptance.” When the guitar solos come, their high pitch, and warped, psychedelic wobble has the effect of a mad cosmic snake twisting over the churning, cavernous depths—mesmerizing (“Attraction Vulgarity,” “Swallowed,” “Sheltered Acceptance”). The whine of feedback and the echo that haunts the beginnings and ends of tracks, likewise adds closure and cohesion, as well as atmosphere, to each piece.

Extreme metal always treads the line between sufficiently intense and too overwhelming, and Dwelling Below gets this just right. It might be dissonant, and wonky, and creepy, but Dwelling Below know exactly when to pull out of the blastbeat spiral for some (equally unnerving) soloing (“Emergence Sublimation”), or haunting death-doom (“Sheltered Acceptance”). A slim 38 minutes, the album is a mad world you’ll gladly return to again and again. Yet while the whole is digestibly short, the songs feel just a bit too long than they ought to be, none dropping below eight minutes and three out of four exceeding nine. Their smooth internal transitions and gripping episodes make for a powerful force as a four. Divide the four songs into six, and these eerie specters would cast an even longer and darker shadow than they already do.

When extreme metal is good, it really makes you feel something. Dwelling Below makes me feel fear, which I believe may have been at least part of the intention. Dwelling Below’s practiced pasts are fully on display here. Its distorted themes, cavernous atmospheres, and satisfying, stomach-churning technicalities also make it very fun to listen to. Even if you are looking over your shoulder while you do so.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity
Website: dwellingbelow.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#2023 #35 #AcausalIntrusion #AmericanMetal #DeathDoom #Dec23 #Defacement #DissonantDeathMetal #DwellingBelow #Qrixkuor #Review #Reviews #TranscendingObscurityRecords

Dwelling Below -Dwelling Below Review

By Thus Spoke

I don’t know what exactly it is that’s Dwelling Below, but if it’s anything like whatever the cover art is depicting then I’m afraid. Beneath the surface, the music of this debut self-titled also lends itself to feelings of unease and apprehension. Formed from members of Acausal Intrusion, Hollowed Idols, and Sermon of Rot, Dwelling Below lurks in the dark and viscous slime of doomy blackened death. Where cavernous bellows resonate over slippery sinister riffage, whining guitar lines slide in and out of the gnashing, grinding chords, and bass drum rumbles with ominous severity. Combining the brutish sludginess of the ugliest of death-doom, and the hostile discordance of extreme metal’s dissonant side, Dwelling Below is about as heavy as it gets. Its mad art and pedigree calls, so let’s dive in.

Across just four songs, Dwelling Below makes good on its portentous promise. That weird synth that opens “Attraction Vulgarity” begins and I’m already afraid. And the repeating patterns of creeping scales and sudden descents from cacophonous blackened death into crawling doom that follow for the next 37 minutes continue this omnipresent feeling of unease. The particular style of gurgling bellows, cavernously echoing alongside lurching guitar, ringing with dissonance frequently recalls Defacement (“Attraction Vulgarity”), while the snakelike solos and general malevolent aura are reminiscent of Qrixkuor (“Swallowed,” “Sheltered Acceptance”). There’s also plenty of high-strung string manipulation and anxiety-inducing technicality you might expect from the affiliated Acausal Intrusion (“Emergence Sublimation”). These elements come together quite magnificently (by which I of course mean horrifyingly). Naturally slipping from speed to slowness, and from eerie—almost melodious—refrain to densely clustered mania.

Dwelling Below really succeed in crafting songs that feel coherent and parsable whilst still being chaotic, unconventional, and inaccessible. We’re not talking verse-chorus-verse here of course, but the songs each have a somewhat cyclical structure that gives you something to cling onto amidst the snafu. All songs revolve around several central patterns or theme, whether that’s a series of low panic chords (“Swallowed”); a chilling guitar descent (“Emergence Sublimation,” “Sheltered Acceptance”); or returning skids into a ringing, d-beat charge (“Attraction Vulgarity”). The music’s overall unfriendliness causes the rare moments of true melody to break the surface with thrilling immediacy. From the high, churning guitar gradually rising in “Swallowed,” to the mournful descending tremolos in “Emergence Sublimation,” and the genuinely beautiful refrain that arises in “Sheltered Acceptance.” When the guitar solos come, their high pitch, and warped, psychedelic wobble has the effect of a mad cosmic snake twisting over the churning, cavernous depths—mesmerizing (“Attraction Vulgarity,” “Swallowed,” “Sheltered Acceptance”). The whine of feedback and the echo that haunts the beginnings and ends of tracks, likewise adds closure and cohesion, as well as atmosphere, to each piece.

Extreme metal always treads the line between sufficiently intense and too overwhelming, and Dwelling Below gets this just right. It might be dissonant, and wonky, and creepy, but Dwelling Below know exactly when to pull out of the blastbeat spiral for some (equally unnerving) soloing (“Emergence Sublimation”), or haunting death-doom (“Sheltered Acceptance”). A slim 38 minutes, the album is a mad world you’ll gladly return to again and again. Yet while the whole is digestibly short, the songs feel just a bit too long than they ought to be, none dropping below eight minutes and three out of four exceeding nine. Their smooth internal transitions and gripping episodes make for a powerful force as a four. Divide the four songs into six, and these eerie specters would cast an even longer and darker shadow than they already do.

When extreme metal is good, it really makes you feel something. Dwelling Below makes me feel fear, which I believe may have been at least part of the intention. Dwelling Below’s practiced pasts are fully on display here. Its distorted themes, cavernous atmospheres, and satisfying, stomach-churning technicalities also make it very fun to listen to. Even if you are looking over your shoulder while you do so.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity
Website: dwellingbelow.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: December 8th, 2023

#2023 #35 #AcausalIntrusion #AmericanMetal #DeathDoom #Dec23 #Defacement #DissonantDeathMetal #DwellingBelow #Qrixkuor #Review #Reviews #TranscendingObscurityRecords

Skiltron – Bruadarach Review

By Dr. Wvrm

In my years not reviewing albums, I’ve learned execution trumps everything. No pet project, no kitsch, no absurdist or ill-advised concept is doomed from the start. Well, ain’t that aces for Skiltron, the premiere bagpipe-powered Celtic folk metal band originally from Buenos Aires (maybe!). Bruadarach is the sixth album with the Skiltron name attached, but the first since 2016. Significant turnover leaves only one original member in the band’s ranks, with the drummer and vocalist making their debut. Skiltron’s recent releases sported some fraying in the kilt, so maybe some new blood is for the best. After all, who knows Celtic folk better than two Argentinians, a Frenchman, a Finn, and an Italian?

Despite the turnover, Skiltron clearly know their way around the studio. Bruadarach is nothing if not polished, sporting a taut focus suggesting a veteran presence in the sound booth. The act’s heavy/power metal chops check the obvious boxes, swinging between fist-pumping rippers and mid-paced sing-alongs. The bagpipe is a tempestuous beast; your mileage with Bruadarach depends on your tolerance for it. Opener “As We Fight” establishes an uneasy, if passable dynamic between the pipes’ mainline melodies and Emilio Souto’s not-quite-backing heavy/power metal axework. The result is easy enough to latch onto, so long as you don’t mind shagging the haggis a bit. Unfortunately, that’s the ceiling.

I know it’s my job to pinpoint The Key Failing in Skiltron’s sound, but it’s too damn hard with so many options. The blame game power rankings stand as follows: 1. Low-ceiling songwriting, 2. Poor vocals, 3. Bagpipes. Yes, I too am surprised that the bagpipes aren’t higher, and they aren’t even on this list for being annoying! Instead, my main gripe with Bruadarach comes down to overplayed weaknesses. Relative to even Skiltron’s past material—to say nothing of metal writ large—very little of the record hits with any punch (with the exception of “Rob Roy”). Most up-pace songs are interchangeable, most ballads tiresome and cringeworthy. It’s at best uninspiring dad-metal, seemingly designed for a listenership barely paying attention at the local Scottish-Argentinian heritage pub, with lyrics to match.

Worse, new vocalist Paolo Ribaldini is flat-out bad. I’ll give it to him, he has a distinct vibe that many vocalists aim for and miss. However, he lacks any measure of excellence past that; his delivery is flat and one-note in a way that only works when the music is equally milquetoast. Remember what I said about overplayed weaknesses? There are three (to four!) ballads on this album! Not a great idea when your vocalist can’t sing! There’s a weird seesawing to the songwriting and the vocals, and when the songwriting is at its best, Ribaldini is at his worst (“A Treasure Beyond Imagination,” “Where the Heart Is”), and vice versa (“Proud to Defend,” “I Am What I Am”). As such, the record is never unbearable, but rarely without blemish. Only highlight “Rob Roy” and to an extent “As We Fight” strike a passable balance worth the spin.

This brings us to Pierre Delaporte’s omnipresent bagpipes. I don’t not like bagpipes, but I don’t not like them nearly enough for them to drone across what feels like every second of Bruadarach’s 44 minutes. While the curl of the skirl1 is quite clear, it isn’t suited to be the melodic output of music that wants you to play it more than once. It’s so tough to parse the instrument that I can’t say if the directions would be successful if given to the guitars. All I can say is that in those rare moments where the rest of the band has anything to do, the album is actually alright. The acoustic picking and folk flutery on “A Treasure Beyond Imagination” are the coolest pieces of the spin.

No one of these elements would damn the record if the others picked up the slack. A bad vocalist isn’t a death knell if you’ve got the riffs. Bad writing is passable if the performances stand out. The bagpipes would be… fine if they were applied logically instead of as an object of worship for which Skiltron shall haunt the Argentinian highlands until the Gathering. By their powers combined though, Bruadarach is less than the difference of its parts.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Trollzorn Records
Websites: skiltron.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/skiltron
Releases Worldwide: December 1st, 2023

#15 #2023 #Bruadarach #CelticFolkMetal #Dec23 #InternationalMetal #Review #Reviews #Skiltron #TrollzornRecords

Skiltron – Bruadarach Review

By Dr. Wvrm

In my years not reviewing albums, I’ve learned execution trumps everything. No pet project, no kitsch, no absurdist or ill-advised concept is doomed from the start. Well, ain’t that aces for Skiltron, the premiere bagpipe-powered Celtic folk metal band originally from Buenos Aires (maybe!). Bruadarach is the sixth album with the Skiltron name attached, but the first since 2016. Significant turnover leaves only one original member in the band’s ranks, with the drummer and vocalist making their debut. Skiltron’s recent releases sported some fraying in the kilt, so maybe some new blood is for the best. After all, who knows Celtic folk better than two Argentinians, a Frenchman, a Finn, and an Italian?

Despite the turnover, Skiltron clearly know their way around the studio. Bruadarach is nothing if not polished, sporting a taut focus suggesting a veteran presence in the sound booth. The act’s heavy/power metal chops check the obvious boxes, swinging between fist-pumping rippers and mid-paced sing-alongs. The bagpipe is a tempestuous beast; your mileage with Bruadarach depends on your tolerance for it. Opener “As We Fight” establishes an uneasy, if passable dynamic between the pipes’ mainline melodies and Emilio Souto’s not-quite-backing heavy/power metal axework. The result is easy enough to latch onto, so long as you don’t mind shagging the haggis a bit. Unfortunately, that’s the ceiling.

I know it’s my job to pinpoint The Key Failing in Skiltron’s sound, but it’s too damn hard with so many options. The blame game power rankings stand as follows: 1. Low-ceiling songwriting, 2. Poor vocals, 3. Bagpipes. Yes, I too am surprised that the bagpipes aren’t higher, and they aren’t even on this list for being annoying! Instead, my main gripe with Bruadarach comes down to overplayed weaknesses. Relative to even Skiltron’s past material—to say nothing of metal writ large—very little of the record hits with any punch (with the exception of “Rob Roy”). Most up-pace songs are interchangeable, most ballads tiresome and cringeworthy. It’s at best uninspiring dad-metal, seemingly designed for a listenership barely paying attention at the local Scottish-Argentinian heritage pub, with lyrics to match.

Worse, new vocalist Paolo Ribaldini is flat-out bad. I’ll give it to him, he has a distinct vibe that many vocalists aim for and miss. However, he lacks any measure of excellence past that; his delivery is flat and one-note in a way that only works when the music is equally milquetoast. Remember what I said about overplayed weaknesses? There are three (to four!) ballads on this album! Not a great idea when your vocalist can’t sing! There’s a weird seesawing to the songwriting and the vocals, and when the songwriting is at its best, Ribaldini is at his worst (“A Treasure Beyond Imagination,” “Where the Heart Is”), and vice versa (“Proud to Defend,” “I Am What I Am”). As such, the record is never unbearable, but rarely without blemish. Only highlight “Rob Roy” and to an extent “As We Fight” strike a passable balance worth the spin.

This brings us to Pierre Delaporte’s omnipresent bagpipes. I don’t not like bagpipes, but I don’t not like them nearly enough for them to drone across what feels like every second of Bruadarach’s 44 minutes. While the curl of the skirl1 is quite clear, it isn’t suited to be the melodic output of music that wants you to play it more than once. It’s so tough to parse the instrument that I can’t say if the directions would be successful if given to the guitars. All I can say is that in those rare moments where the rest of the band has anything to do, the album is actually alright. The acoustic picking and folk flutery on “A Treasure Beyond Imagination” are the coolest pieces of the spin.

No one of these elements would damn the record if the others picked up the slack. A bad vocalist isn’t a death knell if you’ve got the riffs. Bad writing is passable if the performances stand out. The bagpipes would be… fine if they were applied logically instead of as an object of worship for which Skiltron shall haunt the Argentinian highlands until the Gathering. By their powers combined though, Bruadarach is less than the difference of its parts.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Trollzorn Records
Websites: skiltron.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/skiltron
Releases Worldwide: December 1st, 2023

#15 #2023 #Bruadarach #CelticFolkMetal #Dec23 #InternationalMetal #Review #Reviews #Skiltron #TrollzornRecords

R.A Sánchez – L’Ottava Sfera Review

By Dear Hollow

The trouble with genre-bending avant-garde artists is the line between utter brilliance and foolhardy amateurishness. Like a sleeping bear of sonic putridity, artists poke it with their toes of jazz and ambiance and drone, and it largely is a matter of time before they’re greeted with the teeth, and consequently, our ears are bathed in confusion.1 R.A Sánchez, proprietor of the ambient weirdness of Black Baptist, offers this odd concoction in solo debut L’Ottava Sfera, a title which is translated to “the eighth sphere” in Corsican. Balancing crystalline and dark ambient soundscapes, jazzy chord progressions and spurts of brass, and a drone weight, all to a pace seen in funeral doom, it takes its sweet and pitch-black time oozing into the bones with sluggish precision.

L’Ottava Sfera does well in emulating the darkness of its cover art.2 Inspired by Catholic imagery, as well as sonic inspirations of experimental jazz, funeral doom, and avant-garde composers like Krzysztof Penderecki and Iannis Xenakis, R.A Sánchez offers a pitch-black sonic exploration into formality, death, illness, and madness, on paper penned like this year’s Swami Lateplate. While albeit merely hinting at metal through expansive soundscapes infected with cancerous doom, L’Ottava Sfera feels heavier and darker than some of metal’s more vicious offerings – as dread and dying course through every fiber of this beast. Undeniably divisive and jarringly stitched together at parts, R.A Sánchez offers a pitch-black descent into meditation and madness through its weaponized gloom.

R.A Sánchez essentially takes funeral doom and drone and strips them to their bare minimum: as atmospheric and unrelenting but its teeth are notably absent, pinpointing its potentially divided reception. Punishment is not his aim, but rather evocation. L’Ottava Sfera’s tracks range therefore from ambient sprawls touched by the crooked hand of drone to dense and unforgiving weight that tugs on the throat. Designed like an unassuming crescendo, the album opens up with the simple and overlong “Nimu,” which can simply feel like a warbling improvisation on a Roland synthesizer. Maneuvering between jazzy chords with underlying pitch shifts, there is little else to be impressed with, continuing into the piano-led “Forma,” whose pastoral chords are interrupted by a staccato break: again, a rather unassuming twist on an unassuming track. However, there dwells beneath the true monster of L’Ottava Sfera at its halfway point: a growing crescendo of drone that adds depth, darkness, and weight to the jazzier proceedings. Even then, the chord progressions stand at odds in “Forma,” with a dark minor scale dominating the drone clashing against the relatively lush major proceedings of the piano.

It isn’t until the full weight of the meticulously constructed and wildly mind-warping “Qutb” that R.A Sánchez reveals his hand. Beginning with a relatively toothless doom beat alongside a synth substitute for squealing feedback, the dirge warps into deep and dark drone slogs that feel the weight of eons, while narrowly skirting the “metal” tag. Balanced with a segment of wonky jazz spasms, a revenant of Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew, the drone hits as a welcome ton of bricks that suddenly dominates the track with a tastefully religious tone that pairs neatly with the ritualistic flavor. Colossal fifteen-minute closer “Gnosi” continues this trend in the mammoth climax of L’Ottava Sfera, where drums and drone approach an uncanny valley version of brutality (recalling this year’s Rorcal) while the ritualistic and shamanistic drone-inflected jazz drags listeners kicking and screaming into the darkness, recalling Neptunian Maximalism or Zaäar. A true test of patience, interlude “Sovranu” is a sprawling ambient track that slowly and methodically swells from near silence to suffocating density throughout its fourteen-minute ethereal march – although a masterclass in ambient dynamics.

R.A Sánchez toes the line between coyly amateurish and meticulously cunning across the album-long dynamic of L’Ottava Sfera, ultimately landing on a sound best described as soul-crushing – even if it takes a while to get there. The pitch-black tones that embody the destination “Gnosi” showcase the intention and care all along: an ultimate emptiness that scratches under the skin with a duality of both religious and primal weight. The road is bumpy and forlorn and your patience will be tested across its forty-four-minute runtime of divisive genres, but fans of jazz, drone, and dark ambient will find their journey well rewarded.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: STREAM
Label: Lost Tribe Sound
Websites: blackbaptist.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: December 1st, 2023

#2023 #30 #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericDoom #BlackBaptist #DarkAmbient #DarkJazz #Dec23 #Drone #FuneralDoomMetal #Jazz #LOttavaSfera #MilesDavis #Neoclassical #NeptunianMaximalism #NonMetal #RASánchez #Review #Reviews #Rorcal #SwamiLateplate #Zaäar

R.A Sánchez – L’Ottava Sfera Review

By Dear Hollow

The trouble with genre-bending avant-garde artists is the line between utter brilliance and foolhardy amateurishness. Like a sleeping bear of sonic putridity, artists poke it with their toes of jazz and ambiance and drone, and it largely is a matter of time before they’re greeted with the teeth, and consequently, our ears are bathed in confusion.1 R.A Sánchez, proprietor of the ambient weirdness of Black Baptist, offers this odd concoction in solo debut L’Ottava Sfera, a title which is translated to “the eighth sphere” in Corsican. Balancing crystalline and dark ambient soundscapes, jazzy chord progressions and spurts of brass, and a drone weight, all to a pace seen in funeral doom, it takes its sweet and pitch-black time oozing into the bones with sluggish precision.

L’Ottava Sfera does well in emulating the darkness of its cover art.2 Inspired by Catholic imagery, as well as sonic inspirations of experimental jazz, funeral doom, and avant-garde composers like Krzysztof Penderecki and Iannis Xenakis, R.A Sánchez offers a pitch-black sonic exploration into formality, death, illness, and madness, on paper penned like this year’s Swami Lateplate. While albeit merely hinting at metal through expansive soundscapes infected with cancerous doom, L’Ottava Sfera feels heavier and darker than some of metal’s more vicious offerings – as dread and dying course through every fiber of this beast. Undeniably divisive and jarringly stitched together at parts, R.A Sánchez offers a pitch-black descent into meditation and madness through its weaponized gloom.

R.A Sánchez essentially takes funeral doom and drone and strips them to their bare minimum: as atmospheric and unrelenting but its teeth are notably absent, pinpointing its potentially divided reception. Punishment is not his aim, but rather evocation. L’Ottava Sfera’s tracks range therefore from ambient sprawls touched by the crooked hand of drone to dense and unforgiving weight that tugs on the throat. Designed like an unassuming crescendo, the album opens up with the simple and overlong “Nimu,” which can simply feel like a warbling improvisation on a Roland synthesizer. Maneuvering between jazzy chords with underlying pitch shifts, there is little else to be impressed with, continuing into the piano-led “Forma,” whose pastoral chords are interrupted by a staccato break: again, a rather unassuming twist on an unassuming track. However, there dwells beneath the true monster of L’Ottava Sfera at its halfway point: a growing crescendo of drone that adds depth, darkness, and weight to the jazzier proceedings. Even then, the chord progressions stand at odds in “Forma,” with a dark minor scale dominating the drone clashing against the relatively lush major proceedings of the piano.

It isn’t until the full weight of the meticulously constructed and wildly mind-warping “Qutb” that R.A Sánchez reveals his hand. Beginning with a relatively toothless doom beat alongside a synth substitute for squealing feedback, the dirge warps into deep and dark drone slogs that feel the weight of eons, while narrowly skirting the “metal” tag. Balanced with a segment of wonky jazz spasms, a revenant of Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew, the drone hits as a welcome ton of bricks that suddenly dominates the track with a tastefully religious tone that pairs neatly with the ritualistic flavor. Colossal fifteen-minute closer “Gnosi” continues this trend in the mammoth climax of L’Ottava Sfera, where drums and drone approach an uncanny valley version of brutality (recalling this year’s Rorcal) while the ritualistic and shamanistic drone-inflected jazz drags listeners kicking and screaming into the darkness, recalling Neptunian Maximalism or Zaäar. A true test of patience, interlude “Sovranu” is a sprawling ambient track that slowly and methodically swells from near silence to suffocating density throughout its fourteen-minute ethereal march – although a masterclass in ambient dynamics.

R.A Sánchez toes the line between coyly amateurish and meticulously cunning across the album-long dynamic of L’Ottava Sfera, ultimately landing on a sound best described as soul-crushing – even if it takes a while to get there. The pitch-black tones that embody the destination “Gnosi” showcase the intention and care all along: an ultimate emptiness that scratches under the skin with a duality of both religious and primal weight. The road is bumpy and forlorn and your patience will be tested across its forty-four-minute runtime of divisive genres, but fans of jazz, drone, and dark ambient will find their journey well rewarded.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: STREAM
Label: Lost Tribe Sound
Websites: blackbaptist.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: December 1st, 2023

#2023 #30 #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericDoom #BlackBaptist #DarkAmbient #DarkJazz #Dec23 #Drone #FuneralDoomMetal #Jazz #LOttavaSfera #MilesDavis #Neoclassical #NeptunianMaximalism #NonMetal #RASánchez #Review #Reviews #Rorcal #SwamiLateplate #Zaäar