#godflesh — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #godflesh, aggregated by home.social.
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If you like old Godflesh, very old Pitch shifter, Old Ministry, M-pheral
Check out PEASANT GOD from Sweden:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGeoVuwHHIo -
If you like old Godflesh, very old Pitch shifter, Old Ministry, M-pheral
Check out PEASANT GOD from Sweden:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGeoVuwHHIo -
If you like old Godflesh, very old Pitch shifter, Old Ministry, M-pheral
Check out PEASANT GOD from Sweden:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGeoVuwHHIo -
If you like old Godflesh, very old Pitch shifter, Old Ministry, M-pheral
Check out PEASANT GOD from Sweden:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGeoVuwHHIo -
Author & Punisher – Nocturnal Birding Review
By Dear Hollow
Contrary to the plethora of one-man metal projects out there, Author & Punisher’s mastermind Tristan Shone, has always stayed on this side of innovative, consistently riding the line between apocalyptic/dystopian atmospheres and the heaviest electronics since Godflesh. Much like Igorrr’s Gautiere Serre, Shone’s genius has been just as much in song construction as instrument construction, having put his experience as a mechanical engineer to the configuration of his “drone machines” and “dub machines.” This skill has allowed Shone a flexibility in his compositions, with albums like Ursus Americanus and Beastland boasting formidable anthemic brutality, while the more subdued Melk en Honig and Krüller rely on sprawling atmospheres that feel as fiery as they are dense. Nocturnal Birding takes a unique concept and spins it for a trip down Riff Lane.
A leaner and more concise album than even Beastland, Nocturnal Birding is another step from the transhumanism of Author & Punisher’s pedigree into more organic territory – although undoubtedly owing its success to its history. It steps outside Shone’s comfort zone, the composition of Nocturnal Birding revolving around the literal birdsongs of the tracks’ respective namesakes – in a metaphorical homage to the migrants crossing from Mexico to the US and the dangers they face. The album sees Krüller contributor and A Life Once Lost alum Doug Sabolick inducted as full-time guitarist, offering riffs and humanity alike throughout the album’s thirty-four-minute runtime. Revolving around a unique concept that never overstays its welcome, Nocturnal Birding is a romp through everything that makes Author & Punisher unique – and more.
Shone’s dynamics have always been a force to be reckoned with, elevating his already crushing drone/doom/industrial attack to colossal proportions, and Nocturnal Birding is no exception. The introduction of the birdsong adds an intriguing texture to this dynamic, quirky melodics morphing into devastating waves of noise. Author & Punisher offers some of its most accessible content since Ursus Americanus, mammoth dub techno beats guiding the movement between these two extremes. Lulling listeners into a false sense of surreal melody only to blast out the speakers with intense sound, punishing tracks will get your head moving in slow motion weight (“Titanis,” “Black Storm Petrel”), more thoughtful compositions bathe you in off-kilter rhythms and reverb-laden pulses (“Titmouse,” “Titmice”), and crawling brooding flocks offer eerie environs of darkness with Shone’s Reznor- and Peter Steele-influenced cleans (“Meadowlark,” “Mute Swans,” “Thrush”).
It would be tempting to say that if you’ve heard an Author & Punisher album before, you’ve probably heard what Nocturnal Birding has to offer – but 2025 finds the act sounding the most human they’ve ever been. While he exists as mainly supplemental, an added layer to the textured weight of the electronics, Doug Sabolick’s guitar shines as a razor-sharp counterweight to the sludgy downtuned electronic pulses (“Titmouse,” “Rook”) as well as a riffy force to be reckoned with (“Meadowlark,” “Thrush”). Furthermore, the live drums and simmering samples of Indonesian noise artist Kuntari in “Titanis” inject energy, the spoken word of Couch Slut’s Megan Oztrosits takes the creepy mood to haunting lows in “Mute Swans,” and the appearance of French industrial/sludge/death metal band Fange makes “Black Storm Petrel” one of the densest and most brutal tracks. Ultimately, while the synthetic and mechanical hallmarks are very much intact, the inclusion of live instruments adds a genuine feel to the proceedings – a trend that has likewise benefited Igorrr’s latest as the emphasis on solo machine-mongering has faltered.
In his review for Krüller, the illustrious Kronos observed that Author & Punisher albums seem to alternate between anthemic and ambitious. Aside from the foundational birdsong incorporation, Nocturnal Birding finds Shone and company firmly embracing the former – but with a uniquely human touch. This album will mercilessly crush you in the same way Beastland and Ursus Americanus did, as well as the likes of influences Godflesh, Neurosis, and Nine Inch Nails have done for years, and in a way that proposes new avenues for Shone and Sabolick moving forward. Nocturnal Birding is a fist raised to the sky, a poetic eye cast to the wings above, and one hell of a statement.
Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: STREAM
Label: Relapse Records
Websites: authorandpunisher.bandcamp.com | authorandpunisher.com | facebook.com/authorandpunisher
Releases Worldwide: October 3rd, 2025#2025 #40 #ALifeOnceLost #AmericanMetal #AuthorPunisher #CouchSlut #DoomMetal #Drone #ElectronicMetal #Fange #Godflesh #Igorrr #IndustrialMetal #Kuntari #Neurosis #NineInchNails #NocturnalBirding #Noise #Oct25 #RelapseRecords #Review #Reviews #TypeONegative
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Skinwalker – Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
Alaska bears the honor of being the largest landmass of freedom—larger than even Texas—and also the most sparsely populated space in the union. Separated both geographically from the country and communally within its borders, living in the frozen frontiers can create a profound sense of isolation. Hailing from Anchorage, the industrial hardcore two-man assault of Skinwalker seems to find inspiration (or rather spite) in the kind of loneliness and frustration that a great, open land can bring. Having released only nuggets of their downcast wisdom over the past couple years, Skinwalker has been fine-tuning their hissing, howling, and malformed tunes for maximum impact, ready to enter the realm of full-length fury.
Paranoia surrounds both the sounds of Skinwalker and the folklore from which their namesake originates. As a manifested character of evil and witchcraft, the skinwalker, in American Indigenous traditions, represents a pure and real phenomenon of negative, chaotic intent. And reflecting that, Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean through shattered industrial pulse and scream-walled breakdown forces its way through fifteen tracks of disconnected vignettes of disaster and dissociation. As with much industrial music, a heavy layer of cringe-inducing narrative plows unsubtly over its crackling beats, with tracks like “Witch”1 and “Under the Veil” letting loose dead-eyed spoken word lamentations in a manner that fits with the late-night doom-scrolling aesthetic that Skinwalker chases.
One hand holding Godflesh-toned, brutalist rhythms and the other releasing Racetraitor-lit metalcore lashings, Skinwalker wears a robust shroud of intensity. And with most tracks throughout hanging around the two-and-a-half-minute mark, it’s rare that any individual moment overstays its door-kicking welcome. Blowout intro “Finding Solitude in Suffering” drops mutilated chords against an urgent percussive build that falls face-down into a mangled throat tirade. Early burner “Eighty Six Thirty One” melts break-inspired cyber-kicks against riffs made by a guitar that shouldn’t have survived its output. Late album pick-me-up “A Deconstruction of Tragedy” sees Skinwalker launching a Nails-spikedsprint into an unholy breakdown that should lead any lover of flipping tables down a path of relentless stank. Distortion, of course, is the key to Skinwalker’s success, and with noise as a backbone to their hardcore spirit, not a moment exists without frying or collapsing its electronic nature.
Ambitious in output, Man Walks doesn’t always land as well as this act’s talent would suggest. Skinwalker does lean into many higher frequency squeaks, blips, and other electronic squeals that break of the mire of broken amp tones and full volume drum blasts that smear a static black about this debut, but not often in a way that breaks up the landscape. More often, the kinds of flippant and flittering noise signals that sear and tickle the canals like a pleasurable irritant find position to fizzle and fade away with conclusions—exclamation marks to statements that lack differentiation prior (“An Avocation for Pain,” “Bastard Son of God,” “Under the Veil”). It’s frustrating because when these kinds of scurries find a place in breakdown or bridge (“Below,” “What We Do Is Not Art,” “To Detest a Nameless Grave”), they find a welcome home and amplify the already ceiling pushing sounds that Skinwalker has built up to that point. But as it is, Man Walks lands in a sound design that feels hollow in its crushed layering that do no benefits to longer and shorter numbers alike—especially plaguing the instrumental break “The Five and a Half Minute Hallway.”
Yet in a rare feat, Skinwalker has managed to arrive at an industrial, metalcore, and noise-fused sound via the path of electronics first, which doesn’t often feel to be the case for acts who might appear as sound cousins. Occasionally, a throbbing wall of distortion or fret-rattling plonk will resemble something that you could believe rendered from a traditional guitar or bass. And, though abusive toward a standard throat’s life, the vocals decayed through carefully chosen methods of capture render as human—tortured, pleading, confused, but human all the same. Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean, as a first foot forward for Skinwalker, has a certain polish, a certain earnestness that leads me to believe that this sound will develop and grow and explode—tricky rhythmic exercises like “Dancing on the End of a Pen” and “Eighty Six Thirty One” come naturally to their brand of anger. But as it stands, Skinwalker shows only glimmers of what their true power holds.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: PCM2
Label: Self Release
Websites: skinwalkernoise.com | skinwalkernoise.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 16th, 2024#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #Aug24 #Godflesh #Hardcore #IndependentRelease #Industrial #IndustrialMetal #ManWalksBackwardsIntoTheOcean #Metalcore #Nails #Noise #PowerElectronics #Racetraitor #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Skinwalker
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Skinwalker – Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
Alaska bears the honor of being the largest landmass of freedom—larger than even Texas—and also the most sparsely populated space in the union. Separated both geographically from the country and communally within its borders, living in the frozen frontiers can create a profound sense of isolation. Hailing from Anchorage, the industrial hardcore two-man assault of Skinwalker seems to find inspiration (or rather spite) in the kind of loneliness and frustration that a great, open land can bring. Having released only nuggets of their downcast wisdom over the past couple years, Skinwalker has been fine-tuning their hissing, howling, and malformed tunes for maximum impact, ready to enter the realm of full-length fury.
Paranoia surrounds both the sounds of Skinwalker and the folklore from which their namesake originates. As a manifested character of evil and witchcraft, the skinwalker, in American Indigenous traditions, represents a pure and real phenomenon of negative, chaotic intent. And reflecting that, Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean through shattered industrial pulse and scream-walled breakdown forces its way through fifteen tracks of disconnected vignettes of disaster and dissociation. As with much industrial music, a heavy layer of cringe-inducing narrative plows unsubtly over its crackling beats, with tracks like “Witch”1 and “Under the Veil” letting loose dead-eyed spoken word lamentations in a manner that fits with the late-night doom-scrolling aesthetic that Skinwalker chases.
One hand holding Godflesh-toned, brutalist rhythms and the other releasing Racetraitor-lit metalcore lashings, Skinwalker wears a robust shroud of intensity. And with most tracks throughout hanging around the two-and-a-half-minute mark, it’s rare that any individual moment overstays its door-kicking welcome. Blowout intro “Finding Solitude in Suffering” drops mutilated chords against an urgent percussive build that falls face-down into a mangled throat tirade. Early burner “Eighty Six Thirty One” melts break-inspired cyber-kicks against riffs made by a guitar that shouldn’t have survived its output. Late album pick-me-up “A Deconstruction of Tragedy” sees Skinwalker launching a Nails-spikedsprint into an unholy breakdown that should lead any lover of flipping tables down a path of relentless stank. Distortion, of course, is the key to Skinwalker’s success, and with noise as a backbone to their hardcore spirit, not a moment exists without frying or collapsing its electronic nature.
Ambitious in output, Man Walks doesn’t always land as well as this act’s talent would suggest. Skinwalker does lean into many higher frequency squeaks, blips, and other electronic squeals that break of the mire of broken amp tones and full volume drum blasts that smear a static black about this debut, but not often in a way that breaks up the landscape. More often, the kinds of flippant and flittering noise signals that sear and tickle the canals like a pleasurable irritant find position to fizzle and fade away with conclusions—exclamation marks to statements that lack differentiation prior (“An Avocation for Pain,” “Bastard Son of God,” “Under the Veil”). It’s frustrating because when these kinds of scurries find a place in breakdown or bridge (“Below,” “What We Do Is Not Art,” “To Detest a Nameless Grave”), they find a welcome home and amplify the already ceiling pushing sounds that Skinwalker has built up to that point. But as it is, Man Walks lands in a sound design that feels hollow in its crushed layering that do no benefits to longer and shorter numbers alike—especially plaguing the instrumental break “The Five and a Half Minute Hallway.”
Yet in a rare feat, Skinwalker has managed to arrive at an industrial, metalcore, and noise-fused sound via the path of electronics first, which doesn’t often feel to be the case for acts who might appear as sound cousins. Occasionally, a throbbing wall of distortion or fret-rattling plonk will resemble something that you could believe rendered from a traditional guitar or bass. And, though abusive toward a standard throat’s life, the vocals decayed through carefully chosen methods of capture render as human—tortured, pleading, confused, but human all the same. Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean, as a first foot forward for Skinwalker, has a certain polish, a certain earnestness that leads me to believe that this sound will develop and grow and explode—tricky rhythmic exercises like “Dancing on the End of a Pen” and “Eighty Six Thirty One” come naturally to their brand of anger. But as it stands, Skinwalker shows only glimmers of what their true power holds.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: PCM2
Label: Self Release
Websites: skinwalkernoise.com | skinwalkernoise.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 16th, 2024#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #Aug24 #Godflesh #Hardcore #IndependentRelease #Industrial #IndustrialMetal #ManWalksBackwardsIntoTheOcean #Metalcore #Nails #Noise #PowerElectronics #Racetraitor #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Skinwalker
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Skinwalker – Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
Alaska bears the honor of being the largest landmass of freedom—larger than even Texas—and also the most sparsely populated space in the union. Separated both geographically from the country and communally within its borders, living in the frozen frontiers can create a profound sense of isolation. Hailing from Anchorage, the industrial hardcore two-man assault of Skinwalker seems to find inspiration (or rather spite) in the kind of loneliness and frustration that a great, open land can bring. Having released only nuggets of their downcast wisdom over the past couple years, Skinwalker has been fine-tuning their hissing, howling, and malformed tunes for maximum impact, ready to enter the realm of full-length fury.
Paranoia surrounds both the sounds of Skinwalker and the folklore from which their namesake originates. As a manifested character of evil and witchcraft, the skinwalker, in American Indigenous traditions, represents a pure and real phenomenon of negative, chaotic intent. And reflecting that, Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean through shattered industrial pulse and scream-walled breakdown forces its way through fifteen tracks of disconnected vignettes of disaster and dissociation. As with much industrial music, a heavy layer of cringe-inducing narrative plows unsubtly over its crackling beats, with tracks like “Witch”1 and “Under the Veil” letting loose dead-eyed spoken word lamentations in a manner that fits with the late-night doom-scrolling aesthetic that Skinwalker chases.
One hand holding Godflesh-toned, brutalist rhythms and the other releasing Racetraitor-lit metalcore lashings, Skinwalker wears a robust shroud of intensity. And with most tracks throughout hanging around the two-and-a-half-minute mark, it’s rare that any individual moment overstays its door-kicking welcome. Blowout intro “Finding Solitude in Suffering” drops mutilated chords against an urgent percussive build that falls face-down into a mangled throat tirade. Early burner “Eighty Six Thirty One” melts break-inspired cyber-kicks against riffs made by a guitar that shouldn’t have survived its output. Late album pick-me-up “A Deconstruction of Tragedy” sees Skinwalker launching a Nails-spikedsprint into an unholy breakdown that should lead any lover of flipping tables down a path of relentless stank. Distortion, of course, is the key to Skinwalker’s success, and with noise as a backbone to their hardcore spirit, not a moment exists without frying or collapsing its electronic nature.
Ambitious in output, Man Walks doesn’t always land as well as this act’s talent would suggest. Skinwalker does lean into many higher frequency squeaks, blips, and other electronic squeals that break of the mire of broken amp tones and full volume drum blasts that smear a static black about this debut, but not often in a way that breaks up the landscape. More often, the kinds of flippant and flittering noise signals that sear and tickle the canals like a pleasurable irritant find position to fizzle and fade away with conclusions—exclamation marks to statements that lack differentiation prior (“An Avocation for Pain,” “Bastard Son of God,” “Under the Veil”). It’s frustrating because when these kinds of scurries find a place in breakdown or bridge (“Below,” “What We Do Is Not Art,” “To Detest a Nameless Grave”), they find a welcome home and amplify the already ceiling pushing sounds that Skinwalker has built up to that point. But as it is, Man Walks lands in a sound design that feels hollow in its crushed layering that do no benefits to longer and shorter numbers alike—especially plaguing the instrumental break “The Five and a Half Minute Hallway.”
Yet in a rare feat, Skinwalker has managed to arrive at an industrial, metalcore, and noise-fused sound via the path of electronics first, which doesn’t often feel to be the case for acts who might appear as sound cousins. Occasionally, a throbbing wall of distortion or fret-rattling plonk will resemble something that you could believe rendered from a traditional guitar or bass. And, though abusive toward a standard throat’s life, the vocals decayed through carefully chosen methods of capture render as human—tortured, pleading, confused, but human all the same. Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean, as a first foot forward for Skinwalker, has a certain polish, a certain earnestness that leads me to believe that this sound will develop and grow and explode—tricky rhythmic exercises like “Dancing on the End of a Pen” and “Eighty Six Thirty One” come naturally to their brand of anger. But as it stands, Skinwalker shows only glimmers of what their true power holds.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: PCM2
Label: Self Release
Websites: skinwalkernoise.com | skinwalkernoise.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 16th, 2024#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #Aug24 #Godflesh #Hardcore #IndependentRelease #Industrial #IndustrialMetal #ManWalksBackwardsIntoTheOcean #Metalcore #Nails #Noise #PowerElectronics #Racetraitor #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Skinwalker