#suiciderecords — Public Fediverse posts

Kazea – I. Ancestral Review

By Iceberg

Kazea hail from Sweden, home of the Björiff and the chainsaw song of the HM2. But on their debut album, I. Ancestral, the Gothenburg trio promise to blend “the power of post-rock, the haunting melodies of neo-folk, and the crushing weight of sludge.” If the mere mention of sludge hasn’t sent you screaming from the room, good, because you’re in for a treat today. I dealt with posty sludge from labelmates Besra in my n00b days, but throwing neo-folk into the mix puts an unusual spin on the situation. While both styles revel in their simplicity of content, the open soundscapes of folk could provide much-needed contrast against sludge’s distorted chugging. Or it could devolve into a mishmash of styles that don’t share any common language. Whatever the musical case, there’s no denying the gorgeous poetry of Frederico Garcia Lorca in opener “With A Knife:” “Green, how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches. The ship out on the sea. The horse on the mountain.” Color me intrigued.

Kazea choose to separate and highlight, rather than amalgamate, their stylistic influences, a gamble that pays off more often than not. Dusky acoustic guitars reminiscent of Gustavo Santaolalla or A Romance With Violence-era Wayfarer lead the folk-inspired sections, evoking untamed, pagan wilderness (“With A Knife,” “A Strange Burial”). The sludge, which forms the backbone of Kazea’s sound, is more Melvins than Mastodon, and a lot of American Scrap-era Huntsmen, with fuzzy guitars and stomping drum patterns (“Whispering Hand,” “Wailing Blood”). Jonas Mattsson’s vocals may be a bit controversial here, with their Billy Corgan-esque nasal quality, but the more I listened to I. Ancestral the more Mattsson’s performance stuck with me. I hear shades of Layne Staley in his scrawling delivery, and while I wasn’t always able to discern the lyrics, his dynamic croon forms the beating heart of the album’s post-metal tunes (“Trenches,” “Seamlessly Woven”).

For a band handing in their debut record, Kazea slither and wind their way around 37 minutes with the hallmarks of seasoned songwriters. An air of storytelling pervades the album, with memorable spoken word fragments (“A Little Knife,” “A Strange Burial”) and ambient soundscapes (“The North Passage,” “Seamlessly Woven”) delivering post-metal’s cinematics within a sludge framework. Post-metal swells and crashes à la This Will Destroy You and Isis are found on “Trenches” and “Seamlessly Woven,” and while these are unsurprisingly the longest tracks on the record they handle their duration well, with the latter providing one of the strongest, heart-wrenching choruses I’ve heard all year long. Even “Whispering Hand,” which is something akin to pop sludge, is a radio-ready anthem full of earworms that evokes the better moments of Them Crooked Vultures.

I. Ancestral is a promising opening for Kazea’s proposed musical series, and its flaws are few and far between. Daniel Olsson’s drums are powerful, and the groove laid down in “The North Passage” marches in mammoth lockstep with Rasmus Lindbolm’s bass, but the minimalist tribal kick/toms/snare pattern begins to feel a bit overused the longer one listens to the record. “Pale City Skin” and “Wailing Blood” both start strongly but spin their riff wheels a touch too long, giving in to the tendency of both sludge and post-metal to utilize repetition for content. And while a master by Cult of Luna’s Magnus Lindberg is roomy and darkly colorful, the vocal mix does get buried in the busier sections of the album, which is a shame because these constitute some of the best music I. Ancestral has to offer (“Trenches,” “Seamlessly Woven”). But the overall impression of Kazea’s debut beats its blemishes, presenting a stark and unique voice formed from disparate influences.

“…with a knife. With a little knife that just fits into the palm.” The chilling denouement of “With A Knife” has stuck with me as I’ve ruminated over I. Ancestral. It neatly encapsulates the album, weaving shadowy, wooded energy into an unlikely combination of post-metal and sludge. The album is smartly edited and easy to pore over multiple times, with repeat listens revealing some standout moments: “Whispering Hand” is a shamelessly fun sludge anthem, and “Seamlessly Woven” is the most emotionally packed closer I’ve heard since The Drowning’s “Blood Marks My Grave.” I think Kazea have knocked it out of the park with this debut, and are on the verge of coalescing their sound into something truly remarkable. Don’t sleep on these guys.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Suicide Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025

#2025 #35 #GustavoSantaolalla #Hunstmen #IAncestral #Isis #Kazea #Mar25 #Melvins #NeoFolk #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #Sludge #SuicideRecords #SwedishMetal #ThemCrookedVultures #ThisWillDestroyYou #Wayfarer

Novarupta – Astral Sands Review

By Carcharodon

Novarupta’s Astral Sands is the fourth and final part of a tetralogy based on the elements fire, water, air, and earth. Covering the ‘earth’ part of that equation, Astral Sands follows ‘air,’ which came in the form of 2022’s Carrion Movements. A departure from previous outings, that album was an instrumental piece, comprising just two sprawling compositions but was executed so well that I couldn’t help but award it a 4.0. Astral Sands sees Novarupta not only reintroduce the vocals but return to the model seen on the series’ first two installments, Disillusioned Fire and Marine Snow, respectively, working with a different vocalist for each track on the album. Despite this choice having the potential to sap cohesion, to date Novarupta has somehow made it work. Can the band see out its ambitious series on a high?

Compared to the ethereal grandeur and restraint of Carrion Movements, there is an instant sense of presence and immediacy to Astral Sands from the off, even on instrumental intro “Ensamstående: Enastående.” The whole record combines a heavily distorted sound, that borders on sludge in the atmosphere it generates, without actually delivering sludge in the music (opening of “Seven Collides” or the back half of “Terraforming Celestial Bodies,” for example). In that sense, there’s something of Bossk’s Migration about it. Paired with upbeat drumming that borders on d-beat in places (closer “Now We are Here (at the Inevitable End)” or “The Clay Keeps”), Novarupta has a propulsive energy throughout that is at odds with much of their previous output, which is often ponderous and slow build. Even as Novarupta descend into morose trad doom a la Tiamat (“Breathe Breathe,” with vocals from Patrik Wirén of Misery Loves Co.) there’s a shimmering lightness to the guitars, enhanced by the synths, which slide from left to right and back again in the mix, that keeps the whole surprisingly vibrant.

Inevitably, with an album that changes vocalist on eight of its nine tracks (with one instrumental number), your enjoyment of Astral Sands will vary somewhat track by track, according to whose voice you like best. The indisputable highlight of the piece—at least for me and it’s my review, so it’s indisputable for present purposes—is closer, “Now We are Here (at the Inevitable End),” which finds Martin Wegeland of Domkraft on mic duties. Initially airy, vulnerable, and breathy in his delivery, by the end of the track and, therefore, the album, Wegeland hits the sort of manic intensity and urgency that I look for in the likes of Julie Christmas. Other standouts include the almost poppy “Endless Joy” and “Terraforming Celestial Bodies,” with the latter (featuring Greanleaf’s Arvid Hällagård on vox) nodding towards The Cure.1

Throughout the shifts in pacing and mood on Astral Sands, driven principally by the ever-changing vocal line-up, there’s a consistency in the sound, which knits together Novarupta’s songwriting. Whether it’s the lush post-metal guitars and bass groove (“Cosmographia”), or the spangly, fizzing synths, there’s a through line to the record that holds it together. It also helps that the various singers adopt a broadly comparable approach, with no harsh vocals on show and most taking a slightly distant, almost 80s-synthwave approach to their delivery. The production throughout, presumably to deliver that earthy feel, leans heavily into fuzz and distortion at the front of the soundstage, even though there’s an almost crystalline quality to some of the soundscapes and melodies behind that.

To be honest, I had no idea what to expect from Astral Sands. I had been tipped off in advance that the vocals were back but had resolutely resisted listening to the singles. And I’ll admit I was nervous. While I enjoyed Marine Snow, for me the highlight of Novarupta’s catalogue was Carrion Movements, where the abandonment of ever-shifting vocalists allowed mainmen Alex Stjernfeldt and Arjen Kunnen to focus on their compositions, which were huge in scope and delicately executed. On Astral Sands, the pair have reverted to their previous model, while learning from what they delivered on Carrion Movements. Although the album is structured as nine tracks, there is flow and a sense of grandeur to it, which builds on Carrion Movements. Even the bookending of the album, with reflected similarities between the start of sonorous opener “Ensamstående: Enastående” and more intense closer “Now We are Here (at the Inevitable End),” highlights this. More than a worthy closing movement in Novarupta’s tetralogy, Astral Sands is the pick of the series.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Suicide Records
Website: facebook.com/novaruptaband
Releases Worldwide: February 14th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AlternativeMetal #AmbientMetal #AstralSands #Bossk #Domkraft #Feb25 #Geenleaf #JulieChristmas #MiseryLovesCo_ #Novarupta #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SuicideRecords #SwedishMetal #TheCure #Tiamat

Novarupta – Astral Sands Review

By Carcharodon

Novarupta’s Astral Sands is the fourth and final part of a tetralogy based on the elements fire, water, air, and earth. Covering the ‘earth’ part of that equation, Astral Sands follows ‘air,’ which came in the form of 2022’s Carrion Movements. A departure from previous outings, that album was an instrumental piece, comprising just two sprawling compositions but was executed so well that I couldn’t help but award it a 4.0. Astral Sands sees Novarupta not only reintroduce the vocals but return to the model seen on the series’ first two installments, Disillusioned Fire and Marine Snow, respectively, working with a different vocalist for each track on the album. Despite this choice having the potential to sap cohesion, to date Novarupta has somehow made it work. Can the band see out its ambitious series on a high?

Compared to the ethereal grandeur and restraint of Carrion Movements, there is an instant sense of presence and immediacy to Astral Sands from the off, even on instrumental intro “Ensamstående: Enastående.” The whole record combines a heavily distorted sound, that borders on sludge in the atmosphere it generates, without actually delivering sludge in the music (opening of “Seven Collides” or the back half of “Terraforming Celestial Bodies,” for example). In that sense, there’s something of Bossk’s Migration about it. Paired with upbeat drumming that borders on d-beat in places (closer “Now We are Here (at the Inevitable End)” or “The Clay Keeps”), Novarupta has a propulsive energy throughout that is at odds with much of their previous output, which is often ponderous and slow build. Even as Novarupta descend into morose trad doom a la Tiamat (“Breathe Breathe,” with vocals from Patrik Wirén of Misery Loves Co.) there’s a shimmering lightness to the guitars, enhanced by the synths, which slide from left to right and back again in the mix, that keeps the whole surprisingly vibrant.

Inevitably, with an album that changes vocalist on eight of its nine tracks (with one instrumental number), your enjoyment of Astral Sands will vary somewhat track by track, according to whose voice you like best. The indisputable highlight of the piece—at least for me and it’s my review, so it’s indisputable for present purposes—is closer, “Now We are Here (at the Inevitable End),” which finds Martin Wegeland of Domkraft on mic duties. Initially airy, vulnerable, and breathy in his delivery, by the end of the track and, therefore, the album, Wegeland hits the sort of manic intensity and urgency that I look for in the likes of Julie Christmas. Other standouts include the almost poppy “Endless Joy” and “Terraforming Celestial Bodies,” with the latter (featuring Greanleaf’s Arvid Hällagård on vox) nodding towards The Cure.1

Throughout the shifts in pacing and mood on Astral Sands, driven principally by the ever-changing vocal line-up, there’s a consistency in the sound, which knits together Novarupta’s songwriting. Whether it’s the lush post-metal guitars and bass groove (“Cosmographia”), or the spangly, fizzing synths, there’s a through line to the record that holds it together. It also helps that the various singers adopt a broadly comparable approach, with no harsh vocals on show and most taking a slightly distant, almost 80s-synthwave approach to their delivery. The production throughout, presumably to deliver that earthy feel, leans heavily into fuzz and distortion at the front of the soundstage, even though there’s an almost crystalline quality to some of the soundscapes and melodies behind that.

To be honest, I had no idea what to expect from Astral Sands. I had been tipped off in advance that the vocals were back but had resolutely resisted listening to the singles. And I’ll admit I was nervous. While I enjoyed Marine Snow, for me the highlight of Novarupta’s catalogue was Carrion Movements, where the abandonment of ever-shifting vocalists allowed mainmen Alex Stjernfeldt and Arjen Kunnen to focus on their compositions, which were huge in scope and delicately executed. On Astral Sands, the pair have reverted to their previous model, while learning from what they delivered on Carrion Movements. Although the album is structured as nine tracks, there is flow and a sense of grandeur to it, which builds on Carrion Movements. Even the bookending of the album, with reflected similarities between the start of sonorous opener “Ensamstående: Enastående” and more intense closer “Now We are Here (at the Inevitable End),” highlights this. More than a worthy closing movement in Novarupta’s tetralogy, Astral Sands is the pick of the series.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Suicide Records
Website: facebook.com/novaruptaband
Releases Worldwide: February 14th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AlternativeMetal #AmbientMetal #AstralSands #Bossk #Domkraft #Feb25 #Geenleaf #JulieChristmas #MiseryLovesCo_ #Novarupta #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SuicideRecords #SwedishMetal #TheCure #Tiamat

Novarupta – Astral Sands Review

By Carcharodon

Novarupta’s Astral Sands is the fourth and final part of a tetralogy based on the elements fire, water, air, and earth. Covering the ‘earth’ part of that equation, Astral Sands follows ‘air,’ which came in the form of 2022’s Carrion Movements. A departure from previous outings, that album was an instrumental piece, comprising just two sprawling compositions but was executed so well that I couldn’t help but award it a 4.0. Astral Sands sees Novarupta not only reintroduce the vocals but return to the model seen on the series’ first two installments, Disillusioned Fire and Marine Snow, respectively, working with a different vocalist for each track on the album. Despite this choice having the potential to sap cohesion, to date Novarupta has somehow made it work. Can the band see out its ambitious series on a high?

Compared to the ethereal grandeur and restraint of Carrion Movements, there is an instant sense of presence and immediacy to Astral Sands from the off, even on instrumental intro “Ensamstående: Enastående.” The whole record combines a heavily distorted sound, that borders on sludge in the atmosphere it generates, without actually delivering sludge in the music (opening of “Seven Collides” or the back half of “Terraforming Celestial Bodies,” for example). In that sense, there’s something of Bossk’s Migration about it. Paired with upbeat drumming that borders on d-beat in places (closer “Now We are Here (at the Inevitable End)” or “The Clay Keeps”), Novarupta has a propulsive energy throughout that is at odds with much of their previous output, which is often ponderous and slow build. Even as Novarupta descend into morose trad doom a la Tiamat (“Breathe Breathe,” with vocals from Patrik Wirén of Misery Loves Co.) there’s a shimmering lightness to the guitars, enhanced by the synths, which slide from left to right and back again in the mix, that keeps the whole surprisingly vibrant.

Inevitably, with an album that changes vocalist on eight of its nine tracks (with one instrumental number), your enjoyment of Astral Sands will vary somewhat track by track, according to whose voice you like best. The indisputable highlight of the piece—at least for me and it’s my review, so it’s indisputable for present purposes—is closer, “Now We are Here (at the Inevitable End),” which finds Martin Wegeland of Domkraft on mic duties. Initially airy, vulnerable, and breathy in his delivery, by the end of the track and, therefore, the album, Wegeland hits the sort of manic intensity and urgency that I look for in the likes of Julie Christmas. Other standouts include the almost poppy “Endless Joy” and “Terraforming Celestial Bodies,” with the latter (featuring Greanleaf’s Arvid Hällagård on vox) nodding towards The Cure.1

Throughout the shifts in pacing and mood on Astral Sands, driven principally by the ever-changing vocal line-up, there’s a consistency in the sound, which knits together Novarupta’s songwriting. Whether it’s the lush post-metal guitars and bass groove (“Cosmographia”), or the spangly, fizzing synths, there’s a through line to the record that holds it together. It also helps that the various singers adopt a broadly comparable approach, with no harsh vocals on show and most taking a slightly distant, almost 80s-synthwave approach to their delivery. The production throughout, presumably to deliver that earthy feel, leans heavily into fuzz and distortion at the front of the soundstage, even though there’s an almost crystalline quality to some of the soundscapes and melodies behind that.

To be honest, I had no idea what to expect from Astral Sands. I had been tipped off in advance that the vocals were back but had resolutely resisted listening to the singles. And I’ll admit I was nervous. While I enjoyed Marine Snow, for me the highlight of Novarupta’s catalogue was Carrion Movements, where the abandonment of ever-shifting vocalists allowed mainmen Alex Stjernfeldt and Arjen Kunnen to focus on their compositions, which were huge in scope and delicately executed. On Astral Sands, the pair have reverted to their previous model, while learning from what they delivered on Carrion Movements. Although the album is structured as nine tracks, there is flow and a sense of grandeur to it, which builds on Carrion Movements. Even the bookending of the album, with reflected similarities between the start of sonorous opener “Ensamstående: Enastående” and more intense closer “Now We are Here (at the Inevitable End),” highlights this. More than a worthy closing movement in Novarupta’s tetralogy, Astral Sands is the pick of the series.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Suicide Records
Website: facebook.com/novaruptaband
Releases Worldwide: February 14th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AlternativeMetal #AmbientMetal #AstralSands #Bossk #Domkraft #Feb25 #Geenleaf #JulieChristmas #MiseryLovesCo_ #Novarupta #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SuicideRecords #SwedishMetal #TheCure #Tiamat