Happy #GlobalCloseYourRingsDay and thanks for the free pin, Apple 🏅

#CloseYourRings #Apple #PinBadge #Apr24

Verikalpa – Tuomio Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Tuomio is the fourth full-length LP from Finnish extreme folk metallers, Verikalpa. Back in ’20,1 I reviewed—and thoroughly enjoyed—Verikalpa’s sophomore platter Tuoppitannsi. The thing that stood out to me about the record, and its follow-up Tunturihauta, was how much it felt like the band was carrying forward the impeccable vibes from Finntroll’s earliest contributions, but without setting their stamp on it. Still, the writing popped and the sound satisfyingly scratched an extremely specific itch. As I wrote at the time, they bore “the accordion of tradition to the sauna of the metal gods, so that we might have something new to listen to while we drink.” But, let’s be honest, “competent but derivative” is not the praise anyone is looking for when they create music. And so one wonders, four years after my initial exposure, is that the only contribution Verikalpa had to make?

Like its predecessors, Tuomio has a familiar sound that’s easy to love. Verikalpa plays speedy, sometimes galloping or even blasty, melodeath with as much harmonic minor as the songwriters can pump into the riffs. The band, made up of two Jussis (guitars and keyboards), two Samis (guitars and bass), a Jari (drums), and a Jani (vocals) play tight, energetic metal that calls upon their Finnish brethren, but without the pretensions of a Wintersun or Turisas. Their compositions aren’t complex, they’re not borrowing sounds from Japanese instrumentation, and don’t require quantum computing to play on a computer. And their scope is not one with epic aspirations. Instead, Tuomio works almost exclusively in simple time but does so with loads of pathos, driven on by majestic and sticky melodies carried on guitar or keys reminiscent of Turisas’ debut album. This makes it easy to drop into comfortable grooves, with the snare on two and four and machine gun kicks whipping at the Jussis’ and Samis’ backs.

And firmly planted in that familiar Finnish sound, Tuomio delivers the bangers in spades. Verikalpa vacillates primarily between speedier, driven passages that will annihilate unsuspecting crowds live (“Arvon tuomari,” “Noijan sauna”), and the kind of mid-paced tracks (“Laulava vainaja,” “Hakkaa hakkaa,” or the bridge on “Sammalsynti”) that can so often get sleepy if not perfectly executed. But Tuomio finds Verikalpa increasingly mastering their craft, balancing these different speeds, with every riff hitting home—and a seemingly innate understanding of when to slow it down or speed it up to keep a listener interested. Every song on Tuomio features sharp hooks, interesting variations upon themes, and tight execution. One major difference from the previous albums is that Tuomio is mixed and mastered by Pasi Kauppinen, of Sonata Arctica. Pasi’s approach gives them exactly the kind of crisp, and balanced mix that the band needs. And while it could be criticized as dated, it clocks in at a surprising DR of 8 and it fits the music perfectly. Pasi’s touch does the job of getting out of the way of the songs to allow the composition to speak for itself.

And it’s the composition throughout Tuomio that makes it clear how Verikalpa has begun to differentiate itself. One of the band’s most defining tendencies is playing key melodies in unison. That is, the bass, keys, and guitars are all playing the same thing, which sometimes gives it a punky energy. While this could be boring, it has the counterintuitive effect of creating a melodic blunt-force trauma. As a lover of big, epic sounds, I tend to lean away from bands that work with punky energy or ‘simplistic’ writing. But Verikalpa understands that songwriting is a balancing act, making the band’s very specific and well-considered use of harmony extremely effective. After several listens, I began realizing that I was perking up at these perfect moments, like in “Tulimerten taa,” where the harmonies come in (YouTube link, plays 15ish second clip), or the pre-chorus in “Laulava vainaja” (1:13) where the guitars suddenly deviate out of unison into an abbreviated lead, which adds a tight flare. What feels unsubtle becomes the band’s best compositional trick. Less turns out to be more.2 This also gives the impression that Verikalpa has begun opening things up a bit more compositionally, experimenting with better orchestration and slightly carnivalesque sounds (“Maat hauraan hautaa,” the bridge in “Veritonttu”). It’s playful, but it’s worth taking 100% seriously.

Ultimately, Tuomio’s combination of a maturing band that’s developing its sound and a production that lets their excellent ideas and melodies shine creates what is easily one of the most enjoyable listening experiences I’ve had this year. Tuomio is an album without a bad song and that finds Verikalpa making major strides to come into its own. Even at 55 minutes long, I never think about the album’s length when I’m listening to it. It’s just fun hearing Verikalpa develop, and while their sound is still undeniably indebted to the Finnish scene from 20 years ago, Tuomio is helping them plant their flag. So, sure, Verikalpa continues to bear the accordion of tradition to the sauna of the metal gods. But in 2024, they no longer only do so as supplicants.

Rating: Very good (and getting better!)
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: V0 mp3
Label: Scarlet Records
Websites: verikalpaofficial.com | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 19th, 2024

#2024 #35 #Apr24 #Blog #FinnishMetal #FolkMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #ScarletRecords #SonataArctica #Tunturihauta #Tuomio #Tuoppitannsi #Turisas #Verikalpa #Wintersun

Black Tusk – The Way Forward Review

By Dear Hollow

Black Tusk is one of those bands that are eternally 3.0, and I’ve always been completely content with that. My first experience with the Savannah, Georgia veterans was 2011’s Set the Dial, a veritable riff-fest of sludge to counter the swampy slogs I had only been acquainted with (namely Thou and Eyehategod). In ways, the trio stood shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Mastodon and Baroness without the lofty ambition: you come for the sludge, you stay for the riffs. Or something. But that’s it, you bang your head to that filthy, slightly southern fried riffage, and you like it or you don’t. The trio is now a quartet and represents a new chapter of Black Tusk.

That doesn’t mean that Black Tusk is settling down. With new member Derek Lynch on bass and vocals, the trio simply adds more firepower to their arsenal. The Way Forward embodies a theme of change lyrically, and hints of melodic and rhythmic complexity are added. Black Tusk makes no argument for elevating itself past “Mastodon but less ambition and more riffs” but if you’re looking for thick-ass riffs flying around your head with punky simplicity and sludgy meatheadedness, look no further. The Way Forward is Black Tusk through and through, even if its main weapon of the riff can sputter periodically.

As you may have guessed, The Way Forward is Black Tusk’s version of “THA RIFF” but sludge style, and that has not changed since the act’s foundation. Tracks like “Out of Grasp,” “Lessons Through Deception,” and “Flee from Dawn” conjure the sludgy riffs of Mastodon’s Blood Mountain, punky speed colliding with feedback squeals and tough-guy vocals, which are given more variety with Lynch’s contributions: a totality of barks, shrieks, and growls far more forward than in previous incarnations. The three main highlights are “Harness (The Alchemist),” “Breath of Life,” and closer “The Way Forward,” which embrace chunky riffage to the umpteenth degree, while also enveloping it in a suffocating haze and melodic touches that add to colossal quality, enhanced by instrumental interlude “Ocean of Obsidian.” “Breath of Life” in particular flows extremely organically, its centerpiece status justified as a climactic spoke, while the emotive progressions of the title track end the album on a very sweet note.

While the riffs dominate the entirety of The Way Forward, a run in the back half falls tragically short because of its lack of variation. “Dance on Your Grave,” “Against the Undertow,” and “Lift Yourself” start deceptively well enough, sludge’s main attraction of thick riffs and feedback dominating in the ways you expect, but then nothing changes over the course of each respective three minutes, the same riff repeating ad nauseam until a bitterly frail conclusion. “Lift Yourself” in particular feels like the weakest whimper in Black Tusk’s catalog. Not that riff-centric shenanigans are meant to sear into the brain, but even good tracks like “Brushfire,” “Lessons Through Deception,” and “Out of Grasp” are hardly memorable, offering beatdowns but little else. Unfortunately, while Black Tusk does a good job ascending from the monotony of T.C.B.T., it does not justify its plight beyond its own discography like Set the Dial or Taste the Sin.

The Way Forward embraces more vocal variety, but little else feels like a progression – if anything, the highs feel higher and the lows feel lower. Black Tusk is still punky sludge with kickass riffs to boot, but with a three-song streak of gnarly mediocrity coursing through the back half, it’s hard to embrace The Way Forward in its entirety. If “Against the Undertow” and “Lift Yourself” are any indication, then we should be worried; however, if “Breath of Life” and “The Way Forward” are the trajectory, then we should celebrate. However, with more tracks falling into kickass territory like “Harness (The Alchemist)” and “Flee from Dawn,” we shouldn’t even think about Black Tusk’s future and focus on getting lost in the sauce and bashing our brains around with punky, riffy sludge.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: n/a | Format Reviewed: STREAM
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: blacktusk.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/blacktusk
Releases Worldwide: August 17th, 2018

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #Baroness #BlackTusk #Eyehategod #HardcorePunk #Mastodon #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMistRecords #SludgeMetal #TheWayForward #Thou

Glassing – From the Other Side of the Mirror Review

By Dear Hollow

No one does music quite like Austin’s Glassing. Nearly impossible to pigeonhole in its blend of jagged riffs and crystalline melodies, critics have conjured the likes of post-metal, post-black, post-rock, mathcore, shoegaze, sludge, noise rock, screamo, and post-hardcore to describe it – none ever quite sticking the landing. Comparisons to Amenra, Deafheaven, Holy Fawn, and Infant Island are rife – fair but incomplete. Ascending to the ether with a style formed on 2017’s Light and Death, honed in 2019’s Spotted Horse, and perfected with 2021’s Twin Dream, Glassing seems to level up with each release, its tonal calculations more fluid and organic while its gritted-teeth punishment never foregone. From the Other Side of the Mirror is another chapter and success for an act renowned for excellence.

The style that Glassing proffers is best exemplified in the dichotomy of two tracks separated by brief interlude, “Defacer” and “Nominal Will.” The former is absolutely vicious with thick, chunky blackened sludge riffs raining down with volcanic ferocity; the latter deals in a consistently sanguine and heart-wrenching melodic lead guitar approach that floats above the bass-heavy chugs, giving purpose to the pain. This dichotomy, perhaps embodying two sides of the mirror, courses through the album’s forty-two minutes with a tantalizing simplicity of devastating riffs and heart-wrenching melody. It may not top Twin Dream in its ambition but its more contemplative tones and devastatingly thick riffs collide for an absolute tour-de-force nonetheless.

Glassing’s sound nonetheless feels more streamlined despite this dichotomy. Compared to Twin Dream, where multiple styles, vocals, and movements collided, From the Other Side of the Mirror feels refreshingly straightforward. Tracks like “Anything You Want,” “Nominal Will,” and “Ritualist” fuse undercurrents of pulsing blackened sludge with soaring guitar leads and choral cleans, moving between segments with seamless ease. Elsewhere, the two ends of the spectrum are showcased neatly, as the gentle melodies of “Nothing Touches You” and interlude “The Kestrel Goes” are starkly vulnerable compared to the heaviness. On the other end, tracks “As My Heart Rots” and “Circle Down” take notes from “Defacer” in blistering heaviness, relying on blackened tremolo, sludge weight, and a dissonant mathcore quality laid atop a post-metal blueprint, absolutely leveling with the hugeness of their riffs. Dustin Coffman’s vocals return to the simplicity of the blackened snarl, adding a needed edge. You can’t accuse Glassing of going soft.

While ambition is in the eye of the beholder, there are some simple setbacks to From the Other Side of the Mirror. Glassing’s strongest asset is its ability to build tension between jaggedness and melody, and while “Ritualist” and “Defacer” bend hard into this tension, other tracks simply fall into one or another. “Nothing Touches You” pales in comparison to “Anything You Want,” and the stark palettes between “Defacer” and “Nominal Will” can be jarring. Likewise between “Circle Down” and “Wake” – in spite of an interlude between them. While interludes “Sallow” and “The Kestrel Goes” attempt to smoothen transitions between these soundscapes, they largely come across as unnecessary. Worse, closer “Wake” does not feel as climactic as it ought to be, feeling more like a weaker “Anything You Want” with no distinct resolution.

In reality, Glassing’s biggest issue is its sequencing, in that each track is accomplished with gusto and bulletproof performances across the board, but placement within the album feels a bit off. Twin Dream relegated these soundscapes to the first half or the second through a hardcore filter, but From the Other Side of the Mirror attempts the herculean feat of streamlining them with more contemplative grace, adding greater weight to the no-holds-barred punishment of “Defacer,” “As My Heart Rots,” and “Circle Down.” I wouldn’t consider From the Other Side of the Mirror a step-down, but a different beast entirely – from one of the most exciting metal bands today.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: glassing.bandcamp.com | glassingband.com | facebook.com/glassingband
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #35 #Amenra #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #BlackMetal #BlackenedSludgeMetal #Deafheaven #FromTheOtherSideOfTheMirror #Glassing #HolyFawn #InfantIsland #Mathcore #NoiseRock #PelagicRecords #PostRock #PostBlackMetal #PostHardcore #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #Screamo #Shoegaze #SludgeMetal

Big|Brave- A Chaos of Flowers Review

By Dear Hollow

In respect to last year’s excellent Nature Morte, A Chaos of Flowers feels like fallout. While tracks like “Carvers, Ferriers, and Knaves” and “The Fable of Trusting” offered tension and devastation in ways that set brute force at just another place at the crooked wooden table, Big|Brave offer an even more subdued album – a direct response to its predecessor, and an even more spiritual successor to their collaboration with The Body, Leaving None But Small Birds. Americana is a specter that haunts every movement of A Chaos of Flowers, leaving a trail of footprints through crunchy leaves as metamorphic rain falls upon tired Appalachia. In short, Big|Brave offers a place, humid and cold, rooted in founding members Robin Wattie and Matthieu Ball’s acoustic folk-oriented beginnings.

The Montreal trio has always offered what they coin “massive minimalism,” and A Chaos of Flowers represents its most minimalist offering. Big|Brave does away with earthshaking, mountainous compositions of drone riffs in favor of an evocative, simmering, and otherworldly experience. In ways that recall Portal’s dichotomy of Avow and Hagbulbia, A Chaos of Flower’s vibe is more about feeling than punishment, channeling the poetry of renowned thinkers and writers as well as original lyrics, portraying the struggle of life in Robin Wattie’s tormented wails and whispery croons. A retraction of its predecessor’s punishment, A Chaos of Flowers finds Big|Brave acknowledging its folk roots in a subdued noisy palette that is nonetheless meditative and populated by voices of whispering pines.

Big|Brave does not intend punishment. Each track features minimal percussion, driven by swaths of noise and gentle guitar. Original lyrics find themselves in only “Canon: In Canon” and “Quotidian: Solemnity,” the other tracks featuring poetry from Emily Dickinson, E. Pauline Johnson, Renee Vivien, and other female writers from traditionally marginalized communities. In the past, although Wattie’s vocals have always featured their own spotlight, listeners could simply focus on the mountainous riffs – A Chaos of Flowers is rawer, more subdued, and focused on storytelling through the lens of the marginalized. The emphasis on poetry and prose contrasts the trio’s more upfront lyrics that have dominated past albums, in that it confronts uncomfortable experiences and existential contemplation rather than explicit calls for change. Big|Brave attacks listeners with its words, not its riffs.

Bluesy folk and Americana dominate the chord progressions, while gentle guitar in “Moonset” and “Canon: In Canon” guide the proceedings. Beneath the crushing noise of “Not Speaking of the Ways” and “I Felt a Funeral” lies the remains of a southern rock song, lamented in the shades of the pines, while the spidery leads of “Chanson Pour Mon Ombre” and “Theft” lend themselves to the fingers of atmosphere atop drone’s calloused hands. Big|Brave excels in creating a place, piece by piece, with Wattie’s vocals the guide to surviving the Appalachian winter. A Chaos of Flowers feels like the light on the icy grass blades after the first hard frost of spring that was Nature Morte, chilling and more disconcerting than the knowledge of the cold. Distortion taints the light throughout, as “I Felt a Funeral” and “Theft” offer plaintive vulnerability twisted under hopeless lyrics.

Big|Brave submit an odd release with A Chaos of Flowers, as its existence relies on its predecessor – nuclear winter after the war of many casualties. As such, it does not do well to stand alone, and interlude “A Song for Marie, Part III” feels unnecessary while some tracks don’t feel cohesive with the whole. However, it’s composed intelligently, as the two original pieces are the closest to the trio’s avant-drone sound as we get, serving as respective climaxes to the meditation of the surrounding poetry. Somehow, like Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter’s stripped-down debut last year, Big|Brave’s vulnerability feels even more stark than its riff-dominated past. Its existence relies on another recording, so it likely won’t make many lists this year, but it serves as an intriguing companion piece to one of last year’s best offerings. A challenging book of poetry to proudly display on your shelves.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: n/a | Format Reviewed: STREAM
Label: Thrill Jockey Records
Websites: bigbrave.ca | facebook.com/bigbravemusic
Releases Worldwide: April 19th, 2024

#2024 #35 #AChaosOfFlowers #Americana #Apr24 #BigBrave #CanadianMetal #DroneMetal #Folk #GothicAmericana #Noise #Portal #ReverendKristinMichaelHayter #Review #Reviews #TheBody

Darkthrone – It Beckons Us All……. Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

As per usual with Darkthrone these days, a new record arrived without any notice and NO ONE got the promo until after its release. So, here I am trying to toss together a review at the last second for a band whose process is so annoying that I don’t even want to review them. But, I love Darkthrone. So I will ignore my annoyance and pen this fucking thing. Even after twenty full-length albums and nearly four decades in existence, Darkthrone can still surprise their fanbase with each new record—to the point that you don’t know what to expect. But, the last time I enjoyed a complete Darkthrone album was 2013’s The Underground Resistance and 2021’s Eternal Halls……. Keeping with the theme of the latter album, we have another record that uses unnecessary dots in its title. But, does It Beckons Us All……. have what it takes to keep these crusty old fuckers relevant after all these years?

Since the days when Fenriz started lending his voice to Darkthrone albums, things have undoubtedly become weird. But, the band’s commitment to an old-school sound that no longer relies on the yesteryears of Norwegian black metal glory has been enlightening. Chipping away at classic ’80s riffs from the likes of Hellhammer, Celtic Frost, and Sarcófago, Culto and Fenriz have been keeping old-man metal alive after pulling away from the first and second-wave scenes with Hate Them. Since then, they’ve been forging a path that has seen fans come and go, depending on which version of Darkthrone they prefer. But these two gents couldn’t care less. They could care so little that, as I type these words, I feel like I’m wasting my time. But, after listening to It Beckons Us All……., I wish they did care. Because this has to be one of the most disappointing things I’ve heard since Metallica’s 72 Seasons.

“Howling Primitive Colonies” kicks things off with some weird, psychedelic effects that remind me of that mapping bot from Prometheus. Then, it slides into a classic, mid-paced Darkthrone groove that transitions to some boring, slow sustains and perhaps one of Culto’s worst vocal performances. Hell, I wouldn’t even call them vocals. It’s more like raspy rambling than anything else. It picks up the pace at the midpoint, but the one-dimensional “vocals” remain. Thankfully, “Black Dawn Affiliation” arrives a couple of songs later to kick some major ass. This song might be one of the most badass songs to come from Culto’s fingers. For over six minutes, he takes a basic riff and continues to add layers upon layers, evolving it to a massive headbanging climax as distant clean vocals swirl around it.

The ten-minute closer, “The Lone Pines of the Lost Planet,” provides other interesting guitar moments. Specifically, the mid-section harmonizing work which also continues to evolve as it goes. It’s one of the more surprising pieces because it opens with reverberating clean guitars that feel like it’s about to morph into a Metallica ballad. It fails because it has so many worthless sections that drag it out unnecessarily. Plus, I swear to God, Culto says, “Sucking on hydrothermic chimneys.”1 But, at least it contributes something to the album. Unlike the absolutely worthless instrumental, “And in That Moment I Knew the Answer.” I could have spent those three minutes taking a shit instead of listening to this thing. “Eon 3” and “The Heavy Hand” also suffer in their own unique ways. While Culto refuses to sing on this album, Fenriz’s cleans on “Eon 3” are buried in the back and completely encapsulated in effects. And though “The Heavy Hand” has an engaging, haunting attitude, it spends four minutes going nowhere.

After reviewing Darkthrone albums for years, this is the first time I’ve been this disappointed. It Beckons Us All……. is the most uninspiring collection of work the band has released in some time. Outside of the top songs, the others feel thrown together and completely lifeless. And the vocals are either borderline talking or so distant that they’re barely backing vocals. There is some surprising guitar work in songs like “Black Dawn Affiliation” and “The Lone Pines of the Lost Planet,” but it’s not enough to carry the rest of the songs. It’s a shame because the album is so dynamic that if rats were running around the studio, you’d hear them. Though I’m one of the biggest fans of this band, I won’t be returning to this one.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Peaceville Records | Bandcamp
Websites: facebook.com/darkthroneofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#20 #2024 #Apr24 #BlackMetal #CelticFrost #Darkthrone #Hellhammer #ItBeckonsUsAll_ #Metallica #NorwegianMetal #PeacevilleRecords #Review #Reviews #Sarcófago

Full of Hell – Coagulated Bliss Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

If you’ve been following the modern grindcore scene in any fashion over the past fifteen years, then you’ve at least heard of Maryland’s high-output, low-trend grindmongers Full of Hell. Collaborating or splitting space with everyone from tough punks Code Orange1 to Japanese static spinner Merzbow to pneumatic pulse demons The Body, Full of Hell scrapes ideas from every corner in the extreme music space to fuel the iterative process of the twenty to thirty-minute burners that are their “full-length” releases. In the truest sense, this eclectic and thirsty act follows the crack of their own whip, but when it comes to the stage that bears only Full of Hell in title, the path steers a touch more straightforward, though not quite predictable. Nevertheless, with the dial cranked to grind and a color palette that screams anti-monochromatic, does Coagulated Bliss amass all the right parts?

In many ways Coagulated Bliss is the Full of Hell we’ve come to expect, its bleeding extremities of punch-and-cackle powerviolence (“Doors to Mental Agony”), playful industrial deathgrind (“Fractured Bonds to Mecca”), drag ’em bleeding sludge (“Bleeding Horizon”), and unshackled grindcore (“Vomiting Glass”) congealing into a boisterous sonic injection. However, much like higher-treble back half of 2021’s Garden of Burning Apparitions and the whole of 2022’s Aurora Leaking from an Open Wound continued, Full of Hell has adopted a stronger penchant for groove and noise rock-infused, treble-loaded licks. No, Full of Hell does not suddenly sound like Melvins or The Jesus Lizard, but this incorporation of twangy, tasty tunes does help them come across more like the barking, manic side of Today Is the Day on a mystery bag of pills with one labeled ‘grindcore’ (“Coagulated Bliss,” “Gelding of Man”).2 And though the average BPM may render a bit lower than the most aggressive Full of Hell releases, but that doesn’t stop them from sneaking in a Discordance Axis riff or six.

A shift like this requires smart songwriting and a production job highlighting the force of new convictions. Freed from the chains of Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) hammering soundboard touch, both the growling lows and warm, twisting highs find new space to hook with vicious intent (“Half Life of Changelings,” “Coagulated Bliss”), ironically in the manner similar to 00s Converge classics like Jane Doe or Axe to Fall. And though Dave Bland’s (Jarhead Fertilizer) kit has remained reliably savage throughout Full of Hell’s catalog, booming industrial reverb cranks the assault of the most martial tracks (“Doors to Mental Agony,” “Fractured Bonds to Mecca,” “Gelding of Men”), and the traditionally speedy numbers, murderous cymbal crashes lay littered with interjecting tom scatters and cymbal drives that drill the ears with loving precision. Whether Full of Hell is channeling Thou (“Bleeding Horizon”) or Terrorizer (“Gasping Dust”), the space and pace of each moment feels natural in its intensity, a stark contrast to the oppressive landscape in which this band has previously existed.

However more approachable it may seem, Coagulated Bliss isn’t a turn toward the accessible. If anything, this breezier distillation of Dylan Walker’s paint-stripping shrieks and gutter punk tongue-lashing puts his inimitable incantations3 at the forefront in a frighteningly catchy way. With rhythms to which you could reasonably twerk, 4 it’s easier than ever to pick up a lyrics sheet and at least try to croak (inadvisably) along to the hypnotic swing of “Doors to Mental Agony” or provide the demonic guttural accompaniment to “Schizoid Rupture.” At first, this did make Ross Dolan’s (Immolation) punchy verse contribution on “Gasping Dust” and Jacob Bannon’s (Converge) goblin garble on “Malformed Ligature” feel like slightly lesser cuts. But with time and repeat exposure, the resplendence that Full of Hell can find in this soured worldview pours through these late-album swings all the same.

As a long-time enjoyer of Full of Hell, I’ve always hoped to come across one of their records that could feel like an ‘any day’ kind of jam. These contemporary torchbearers have always seemed to scoff at the notion though, with each of their efforts brimming and bursting with a talent so raw and crushing that the zig-zag experience would come across as impressive rather than attachable. Expansive in soundscape, focused in its weird expression, and reliable in foothold to the grind, Coagulated Bliss feeds a shredded, rocking, great time effortlessly.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Closed Casket Activities | Bandcamp
Website: fullofhell.com | fullofhell.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fullofhell
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #40 #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #ClosedCasketActivities #CoagulatedBliss #Converge #Deathgrind #DiscordanceAxis #FullOfHell #Grind #Grindcore #IndustrialDeathgrind #JarheadFertilizer #Melvins #NoiseRock #Review #Reviews #Sludge #Terrorizer #TheBody #TheJesusLizard #TheMelvins #Thou #TodayIsTheDay #Turian

ACOD – Versets noirs Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

How I’ve never known about France’s ACOD is beyond me, and I heartily apologize to them because I’ve been having a hella good time with many of their releases. Beginning their career as a black/thrash outfit with metalcore tendencies, they began to explore Mephorash-meets-Septicflesh territories around the time of their 2018 release, The Divine Triumph. While there are thrashy moments, the songwriting is now predominantly massive string atmospheres, marching drumbeats, cranked-up bass work, and riff after motherfucking riff. Each song is a rollercoaster ride, continuously rising and falling throughout, leaving you wondering which pain level you’ll hit next. As of 2002’s mighty Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond, the band has been led by two founding members Fred and Jérome—the first lending his voice to these opuses and the second doing… well, everything else. But does Versets noirs have what it takes to widen the expanse left behind by its predecessor?

Versets noirs continues where Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond left off. But, its structure and delivery are very different from anything they’ve done before. Typical releases are in the forty to fifty-minute range with nine to thirteen songs each. Instead, Versets noirs consists of five (I repeat, five songs) in forty-two minutes, with a heavy cover of Samael’s classic “Black Trip” closing it out. But, it’s not like a typical bonus cover inclusion as it fits the album well, and closes it out perfectly. Aside from that, they also made a bold move by beginning the record with a twenty-plus-minute opening track. Freddy Boy also digs deeper into his vocal repertoire to add more diversity than the previous album, without going into the weirdness of their older material. All this combined makes Versets noirs probably the most unique release in ACOD’s fifteen-year career.

“Habentis Maleficia” begins with some slow, growing dissonance that settles into a smooth groove when the vocals surface. It’s a gigantic piece that includes rasps, French spoken-word segments, and booming cleans on the back end. Its foundation revolves around constant builds, falls, and rebuilds—morphing from one emotion to another. At one point, we are charging through Gorgorothian melodies and concrete-splitting black metal assaults. And, the next, we are soothed with calming piano work and string atmospheres. There are moments of impressive dual guitar work where, when played on headphones, each ear is combated by a different lead. And, sometimes, the bass rises above the foam to take charge in popping, rumbling beauty. On the back half, you’ll even find death assaults with vocals pulled deep from the diaphragm, and even a short passage where the band ventures into Southern, Pantera-esque territories. It’s a fucking wild ride but when its melodic climb to the final summit comes, it’s well worth the wait.

“The Son of a God (The Heir of Divine Blood)” is probably my favorite, kicking hard with a killer riff and guitar tone that reminds me of earlier Old Man’s Child. When it settles into its groove, the vocals match its step nicely to deliver a headbangable experience. But for all its aggressiveness, the song ventures into melodic atmospheres, alternating moods from wanting to rip one’s face off to wanting to cry. When the bass takes the reigns, we soar to new heights. During these moments, the atmosphere reaches the clouds, intermingling rasps with big, booming cleans as the piano surfaces and engulfs the entire thing in hopeless melodies. But, “May This World Burn” has to be the most unique piece on the album. It takes all the elements of the previous tracks and adds even more. Misleading you with some soft strings in the intro, it transitions to the most badass riff on the record. Between the flailing guitars and hard-hitting drums, this thing is ferocious. Then, it gets really interesting as the dual guitar work passes from Mors Principium Est influences to old-school Arsis death/thrash territories. But, after pulverizing you for seven-plus minutes, it concludes in the same beautiful fashion as it began.

As a whole, I prefer Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond to Versets noirs. But that doesn’t mean this new record is any less engaging than its predecessor. The fact that it continues where the previous one left off is exactly what I wanted from ACOD. It’s a forward movement on a sound and songwriting style that fits the band far more than the black/thrash days of Point Zero and First Earth Poison. With a rich master, every instrument finds its place in every moment of every song. The massive amount of riffs is shocking, the performances are tight as Hell, and the aforementioned vocal diversity lends well to the album’s overall theme. Perhaps they could have concluded the record with an original track, but the Samael cover does add texture to the record. If you like big, black metal atmospheres and wild, cross-genre influences, this album is for you.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Hammerheart Records
Websites: acod.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/acodband
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #35 #ACOD #Apr24 #Arsis #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #FrenchMetal #Gorgoroth #HammerheartRecords #Mephorash #MorsPrincipiumEst #OldManSChild #Pantera #Review #Reviews #Samael #SepticFlesh #VersetsNoirs

Couch Slut – You Could Do It Tonight Review

By Dear Hollow

Couch Slut does not concern itself with the prettier things in life. While the noise rock tag may be a dead giveaway, the unconvinced need only to look at the cover of the Brooklyn five-piece’s 2014 debut My Life as a Woman (not at work) to understand. The monotone theme is a spirit likewise captured in fourth full-length You Could Do It Tonight, displaying a humanity succumbing to vice, filth, and weed – as the style’s stalwarts in Cherubs, Oxbow and Brainbombs have long done. But there’s something distinctly unhinged about Couch Slut, whether it be the jerky hardcore rhythms, dissonant squeals, and deceptively placid passages of simmering menace, the blasts of straight-up noise that feels as furious as its content, or frontwoman Megan Osztrosits’ manic shrieks, banshee howls, and ominous mutterings. Like its predecessors, You Could Do It Tonight dives headlong into darker things through the lens of urban alienation.

Unlike its predecessors, however, You Could Do It Tonight flies off the rails at nearly every turn. Compromising solidarity through its thirty-eight-minute runtime through a variety of vicious tricks, no two tracks retaining the same technique, Couch Slut dives into surreal storytelling dedicated to self-harm and suicide. Using a thick haze of noise, combined with skronky guitar work and dark bass and helmed by the manically captivating spoken stories and Osztrosits’ manic shrieks, You Could Do It Tonight is an otherworldly and absolutely menacing trip to drug-fueled insanity.

The two faces of You Could Do It Tonight, in spite of different stylistic decisions throughout, can be pictured as simmering and unhinged. “Couch Slut Lewis,” “Laughing and Crying,” and “Wilkinson’s Sword” plod carefully and deliberately with an Oxbow-esque lounging pace through a noisy backdrop with memorable guitar licks throughout erupting into dissonant squawks, while Osztrosits’ shrieks describe rape and self-harm with raw and unflinching detail. The heart on their sleeves were traded for weed on 4/20, so any compassion is left in a haze of shock and smoke. Explosions of noise envelope tracks like “Ode to Jimbo” and “Energy Crystals for Healing” in a wave somehow larger than the already mammoth riffs dominating, while devastating roars of guests Zach Ezrin of Imperial Triumphant and Doug Moore of Pyrrhon add a distinct edge to “Couch Slut Lewis” and “Downhill Racer.” Like any good noise rock, there is a constant curtain of sound draped across Couch Slut’s sound, weaponized to a vicious and unhinged degree.

While the album at large maintains that trademark insanity, there are three instances in particular that challenge the listener. “Presidential Welcome” is a grimy jazz interlude straight outta Vile Luxury, starkly decadent after the climactic and filthy predecessor. This predecessor, “The Donkey,” features Osztrosits’ spoken word with dissonant squawks and a tapestry of feedback, lyrics describing a particular nightmare in which a couple make a stop-motion horror film, and the guy nearly saws off his arm to get enough blood for their film – the antics are described with unnerving conversational casualness. Meanwhile, closer “The Weaversville School for Boys” utilizes spoken word atop pulsing beats and warbling squeals, describing an urban legend of three boys massacring the entire population of their school and vanishing, as our drugged narrator stumbles upon them laughing at the sky. It’s all unnerving.

In its themes and mood, You Could Do it Tonight can summed up by the lyrics in “Downhill Racer:” “My walls build moisture, enough to drown. I watch the water where he went down. My leg’s infected from all these scratches.” Couch Slut has no clear motive aside from absolute grime and maximum discomfort. While horror and mutilation are common themes throughout metal- and noise rock-adjacent lyrics, there’s an obscene absurdity that collides with jarring normality through these stories: as if rape, self-harm, and murder were all just everyday facets of urban life. You can trust no one. Interpreting Couch Slut and You Could Do It Tonight is a complex feat – it’s not an easy album, hardly an enjoyable one. But it is an impressively uncomfortable drug-induced listen full of captivating storytelling through effective spoken word and a vocal performance from hell, stinging instrumentals, and oily grime – like all good noise rock steeped in misery and sarcasm.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 41 Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Brutal Panda Records
Websites: couchslut.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/couchslut | instagram.com/couch.slut
Releases Worldwide: April 19th, 2024

#2024 #35 #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #Brainbombs #BrutalPandaRecords #Cherubs #CouchSlut #ImperialTriumphant #NoiseMetal #NoiseRock #Oxbow #Pyrrhon #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #YouCouldDoItTonight

Baron – Beneath the Blazing Abyss Review

By El Cuervo

Little explanation is required for why I chose Beneath the Blazing Abyss for review. From artwork and title alone I was promised a fiery, hellish heavy metal experience, while Baron’s one sheet informed me this would be of the doom/death variety. I even initially thought that the art depicted an interpretation of the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. However, closer inspection reveals a decapitated head offered to demonic spirits; altogether too X-rated for the famously conservative Christian Tolkien. While these Finns have released a smattering of EPs and demos previously, this album offers their debut full-length. What type of evil resides within?

Burly riffs. A stomping, mean attitude. Brutish, block-headed heaviness. These are the core qualities you’ll experience on Blazing Abyss. Your mileage with it will largely depend on your tolerance for them. Baron fall at the death metal end of the doom/death spectrum, splitting their time between a mid-pace that prioritizes fat, groovy leads, and sharper, faster passages. The former gives you something to mosh to, and the latter progresses the songs by acting as transitions between moshing parts. The vocals likewise flit between guttural roars and higher shrieks to fit the underlying guitars. But most exciting is the commanding presence of the drums. I know it’s their purpose to dictate the music’s mood and tempo but I’m more tied to these than anything else across Blazing Abyss. The quick blasts, the pummelling stomps and the entertaining rolls; each underpin some of my favorite moments on the record.

Following these descriptions, it won’t come as a surprise that a lot of the material here almost necessitates that you switch off your brain. The music is better that way. I’m bruised and battered by, but not necessarily invested in, the likes of “Infernal Atonement,” “Incinerated Evil” and “Hands of Sin…” They’re heavy as fuck, and feature one or two dominant leads, but only have a superficial impact. When Baron stretch themselves with more demanding songwriting they become far more involving. “Bound to the Funeral Pyres” is the lengthy highlight, methodically building with a slower, grander, choral-backed arrangement. It begins less heavily but consequently feels even bigger when the blackened maelstrom finally arrives. It offers an interesting juxtaposition of something more controlled against something less, from elaborate to maniacal. By the time the track has returned to its quiet introduction at its conclusion, I’m left far more satisfied than by any other. It features proper development, progressing through mini-movements, into something that feels more deliberate and coherent.

Blazing Abyss is heavy as fuck. It uses fat tones and tons of distortion to construct its impressive wall of noise. But this is a brick wall of noise. Each instrument is prominent and thick and so the album overall loses the dynamism I typically enjoy, both in the music and mastering. Baron are surprisingly articulate and atmospheric during their acoustic and/or synthy softer passages on “At the Dawn of Damnation,” “Bound to the Funeral Pyres” and “… Swallowed by Fires Beneath.” But the loudness is shockingly noticeable in these quieter moments. This lack of dynamism is a big part of why much of the music here blurs. While these three tracks benefit from tonal changes (namely heavy to light) alongside the pace changes (namely death metal to doom metal), the other tracks can’t proclaim such variety and progression. So while the songs are generally fun enough, they aren’t always distinguishable.

Blazing Abyss is thicker than tar and heavier than iron. What Baron aims for initially seems straightforward. But I’m ultimately left with paradoxes. How can some of the material here be so immediate and exigent, yet some so indistinct and forgettable? How can some be so super-charged, yet some so flat? How can some leave me nonplussed at my desk, yet some energize me to mosh in a live setting? Blazing Abyss has its qualities but is ultimately the archetypal mixed album.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity
Website: bandcamp.baron.com
Releases worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#25 #2024 #Apr24 #Baron #BeneathTheBlazingAbyss #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #FinnishMetal #Review #Reviews #TranscendingObscurityRecords

Dvne – Voidkind Review

By GardensTale

In terms of quality, if not international recognition, Dvne has undergone what one could describe as a meteoric rise. Debut Asheran barged onto my list that year on the heels of my glowing TYMHM article. Sophomore Etemen Ænka went bigger, more expansive, and did so successfully, showcasing an astonishing array of performances and songwriting prowess. All this praise from yours truly hasn’t gone unnoticed, either, as Dvne has quickly become a fan favorite in this corner of the internet, and the band’s hanging with the big boys over at Metal Blade. The hype for Voidkind has been understandably unreal, but is the third time still the charm when both prior times were full-blown knock-outs?

Voidkind doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel on Dvne’s sound. What we get is still expansive prog-sludge in ye olde Mastodon vein with a post-metal bend. But that bend has notably diminished since Etemen Ænka. Voidkind is more compact, more direct, more impatient. “Summa Blasphemia” barely gives you the time to adjust your seat before hitting you in the face with the band’s trademark avalanche of sound, roars on top of riffs on top of rolling drums that combine into a juggernaut you can only ride, not resist. When the clean vocals come in, they have clearly improved the technical execution. More solid and more confident, hardly a trace of the old thin waver is left, and it fits the less roundabout approach of the band. With a few cool tricks up its sleeve, like the feint-and-swirl on the main riff, “Summa” makes for a powerful opener that sets expectations high for the rest of the album.

But the new approach comes at a cost. One of the greatest strengths of Dvne’s prior albums was the sense of flow. With fewer and shorter builds, the flow is less apparent on Voidkind. As a consequence, the album’s overall dynamics are reduced, as well as the grandeur. Despite adding a keyboard player, the keys are far less prominent, which pulls Voidkind back down to Earth after the prior cosmic endeavors. With the layering thus simplified, the onus is more on individual parts; riffs, drum performance, vocals. Though all of these are good, none of these hit as hard on their own as they do when pulling together, the way only Dvne can do. Though I can (somewhat) excuse all of these under experimenting with the band’s core sound; what they did to the production, though, is harder to swallow. Pulled back from a DR6 only by the scruff of two brief interludes, the drums sound especially flat and free of impact, and when you have a drummer like Dudley Tait, that is a jailable offense.

But man, this band still knows how to write a fucking song. “Sarmatae” with its whirling, multi-part riff and aggressively staccato drums. “Abode of the Perfect Soul” and its face-caving start, followed by dynamic shifts between big riffs and roars left and shimmering fragile expanses right. A few tracks still hew closer to the build-ups of yore. “Eleonora”‘s midsection constructs its ascent with meticulous precision, culminating in an awesome, explosive drop into turmoil currents. And closer “Cobalt Sun Necropolis” tries something similar, but doesn’t feel quite as focused in its journey. Though saved somewhat by its dark atmosphere, it’s the only tune that doesn’t seem to stick well and the ending hurts my ears with a wall of static. On an otherwise very strong track list, this is only a small step down, but a strong closer would have gone far for Voidkind.

This was a difficult album to review. Releasing in the middle of Roadburn pushed me past the deadline, but my difficulty in making up my mind about it just delayed it further. Listening to individual tunes, the strong opening salvo, the imaginative riffs, I’ll feel like it’s another slam dunk. But looking back upon it afterward, it doesn’t feel as unified and complete an experience as I would want it to be. Couple this with the unimpressive production and I cannot but gently move Dvne down a peg. That’s coming from a very high bar, however. The excellent songwriting and ditto performances ensure that Voidkind remains a must-hear for prog-sludge fans.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: songs-of-arrakis.bandcamp.com | songsofarrakis.com | facebook.com/dvneuk
Releases Worldwide: April 19th, 2024

#2024 #35 #Apr24 #BritishMetal #Dvne #Mastodon #MetalBladeRecords #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Sludge #Voidkind

Blaze of Perdition – Upharsin Review

By Dear Hollow

“Upharsin” is part of an Aramaic phrase seen in the Hebrew Bible, in which the words “mene, mene, tekel, upharsin” appear mysteriously upon the wall of the palace of King Belshazzar, which are interpreted by the prophet Daniel as foretelling the fall of Babylon and its dispersion to the Persians and the Medes. The rich religious undertone pervades the Polish Blaze of Perdition, not as a point of blasphemy but of portent. Catholicism is a specter that haunts Poland, one whose national identity has historically been intertwined with religion – and the inevitable trail of pain wrought from the iron fist in the shadow of the cross. A consistently vicious output of black metal often sees this as a backdrop, as acts like Blaze of Perdition, Batushka, and of course, Behemoth have all cried mightily against the heavens, acknowledging the burning shrine from the pews.

Contrary to the gaudy goth-rock influences of 2020 predecessor The Harrowing of Hearts, Blaze of Perdition opts to embrace the blackened fury once more in a density and viciousness that portrays the divisions of humanity, abetted by religion, and man’s affinity for violence. Upharsin is dispersion to the Persians and Medes, a singular division whose existential despair is only outmatched by its intensity. While certainly avoiding the tempo-dismissing blastbeat-loving style of Dark Funeral, its simmering and slow-building midtempo attack feels just as devastating, movements steeped in melancholy and melody. Balance defines every movement, as anger and lamentation collide with seamless fluidity – the result is a pure return to form, a dangerous and untainted foray that dwells in misery.

Blaze of Perdition’s greatest asset is to present its anti-religious themes as not the devil-worshiping and novelty-driven attack of its blackened kin, but with an existential weight. The lyrics, entirely in their native Polish, present alienation of God, a divinity given life through cold and suffering,1 and the self-flagellation that the aloof father requires. This theme is animated by their distinctly Polish black metal attack, thick and ferocious while maintaining the trademark second-wave frigidity, with vocals commanding the attack with sermonic charisma. Guitars spread a tapestry of blasphemous intensity, morphing seamlessly into passages of wrenching melody, while drums burst with climactic and sporadic blastbeats and intense ritualistic buildups. Blaze of Perdition injects liturgical weight into their sound, making their ebb and flow feel more like a crisis of faith rather than a burning church.

The natural progressions of the sound make Upharsin feel like a tapestry of color, rich and vibrant with each passage, but the passages of subtle melodic undercurrents and memorable brutality add to Blaze of Perdition’s story as it plays out across the threads. The melodies of “Niezmywalne” and “W kwiecie rozlamu” inject passages of sustained and intertwined guitar work, alongside their heart-pounding elements, while the former deals in depressive wails and adrenaline-pumping barks. Meanwhile, the chants of “Przez rany” and “Architekt” inject a necessary pummeling that stand in neat contrast to the more placid moments. While these standout moments are notable, Blaze of Perdition’s songwriting ensures a tangible consistency across the forty-one-minute runtime. What makes Upharsin a notable progression from its immovable catalog is its weariness: while previous blasphemy emerged from violence, tracks contained herein explode from a weathered and wounded spirit.

The only obvious detractor of Upharsin occurs in closer “Mlot, miecz i bat,” in which a rip-roaring guitar solo cuts through the carefully calculated melancholy with novel recklessness, which only barely leaves a bitter taste to an otherwise stellar album. Blaze of Perdition rights the ship after the experimental and divisive The Harrowing of Hearts with a sound that returns it to the trademark viciousness while maintaining subtlety and melancholy through each movement. While blasphemy and defiance dominate the blackened arts and Upharsin’s tapestry reflects this tradition, Blaze of Perdition’s story plays out as distinctly wounded, as if the novelty has worn off to reveal the beating heart beneath – one that tried to believe and fell to ashes.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: blazeofperdition.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/blazeofperdition
Releases Worldwide: April 19th, 2024

#2024 #40 #Apr24 #Batushka #Behemoth #BlackMetal #BlazeOfPerdition #DarkFuneral #MetalBladeRecords #PolishMetal #Review #Reviews #Upharsin

Inter Arma – New Heaven Review

By Cherd

It’s been almost exactly five years since Inter Arma’s last full-length, not counting their album of cover songs, Garbers Days Revisited. Not that the vicious take on Neil Young’s “Southern Man” wasn’t a welcome addition to their catalogue, but after the gut-churning aural ruination that was 2019’s Sulfur English, you could hardly blame fans for hoping the band would follow it up in short order. A global pandemic and personnel turmoil intervened, so here we are in 2024 just getting our ears around the band’s fifth LP, New Heaven. It seems Inter Arma used that time to do the most Inter Arma thing possible by leaning hard into their well-documented mercurial nature and producing an album that both sounds like them and a different band altogether simultaneously. They’re the same shaggy beast as ever, but beneath that matted, coarse coat is a rippling form mid-shape shift, stretching, pulling, and crossing back on itself constantly over the course of New Heaven’s shockingly concise 42 minutes.

You’d be forgiven for thinking you accidentally hit play on a new Portal record as you spin the opening title track. “New Heaven” is full of off-kilter skronk, starting with that lurching guitar line and the insane picking over it, but it’s also one of the most brutish songs the band has ever recorded, which is really saying something. The next two tracks continue the disgustingly heavy tone, cementing the band’s drift toward cavernous death metal that began back on Paradise Gallows. The tempos are faster here than on past releases, with “Violet Seizures” and “Desolation’s Harp” veering into war metal or grind territory at times. It’s not until the Southern rock-influenced interlude “Endless Gray” that longtime fans will be saying “There they are. I knew they were still Inter Arma.” The record’s second half lets up on the gas a bit to allow some of the weirder ideas to breathe. Speaking of weird, the echoey production and drum-forward mix combined with frequently warped guitar riffs make for an odd sense of sonic space. The result is an anxiously psychedelic experience that remains the same across wildly different styles, from the dissonant monster of an opening track to the entirely acoustic country closer “Forest Service Road Blues.”

If being all over the musical map sounds like a negative, you’ve probably never heard an Inter Arma record before. It seems whatever they throw at the wall sticks, and the listening experience across their (usually much longer) records never feels uneven. This is because they play everything with the same smoldering intensity and volatile mean streak. Case in point, the final three songs of New Heaven couldn’t be more different. “The Children the Bombs Overlooked” calls to mind tracks like “Howling Lands” from their back catalogue. Meanwhile, “Concrete Cliffs is basically a ‘roid raging Pink Floyd song with death roars. Finally, “Forest Service Blues,” with its sad sack cabin-dwelling recluse, could in concept and execution be cut from any Uncle Tupelo record. And yet, thanks to that trippy production job, TJ Childers’ insane drumming, and Mike Paparo’s constantly mutating vocal delivery, things couldn’t flow more naturally.

Speaking of Childers and Paparo, this record is the closest Inter Arma has come to capturing their live energy, thanks to both being front and center in the mix. If you’ve ever seen them play, your eyes are constantly moving from Childers’ ritualistic abuse of his kit to Paparo as he bellows, croons, screeches, and roars. The drumming on the record’s first half is especially impressive, propelling otherwise dirge-y songs like “Desolation’s Harp” into the stratosphere. By centering on Childers, New Heaven is the band’s least doom-leaning record to date. Paparo has always been a versatile vocalist, but he’s reached another level on the last couple of records. His low-pitched death roars in “New Heaven” and “Concrete Cliffs” are his best to date. On the album’s back half, his Nick Cave-ish clean singing lends a different kind of drama, though no less potent, than he delivers on the front half with his blackened shrieks.

It took me a while to wrap my head around this record. A lot of that had to do with the psychedelic production and the warped sense of space, but in the end, I realized this is exactly what sets New Heaven apart in the band’s impressive catalogue. This, and the near abandonment of doom metal, which you’d think would turn a doom head like me off, but this is Inter Arma we’re talking about. Almost 20 years into their career, I’d say they can do no wrong.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Relapse Records
Websites: interarma.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/interarma
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #40 #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #InterArma #NeilYoung #NewHeaven #PinkFloyd #Portal #RelapseRecords #Review #Reviews #UncleTupelo

OU – 蘇醒 II: Frailty Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Beijing isn’t known for being a hotbed of metal, and what bands do exist (documented) don’t really present many ways to listen on a global scale. But, being comprised of human beings, music persists in that region whether we realize it or not. And of that perseverance OU1 blossomed. Triumphant and glistening, their 2022 debut one wasted no time infecting and warping my listening consciousness with its unique blend of progressive metal, power pop, and dream-like ambient fusion. In a world where bands like Haken and Leprous continue to streamline and commodify their once vibrant and promising sounds, OU planted a crooked and smiling stake amongst the swath of fledgling prog bands everywhere. With that exuberant spirit, lightning threatens to strike twice.

OU’s first adventure caused big enough waves for labelmate Devin Townsend to sign on to give 蘇醒 II: Frailty a level of production one didn’t quite have. Often, Townsend’s most intriguing engineering work has arrived via his softer, layered works (Ki, Ghost, Transcendence) where his minimalist weavings shine bright. And while OU has one foot in the other maximalist realm that earned Townsend a reputation for pushing a throbbing wall of sound, the back half of one, and, consequently, the comedowns of 蘇醒, finds power in the explosions of careful and heavily layered builds. In this space, Townsend allows OU’s spry synthcraft and ethereal vocal layering to wisp about with freedom, frantic abandon, and dreamy oscillation.

As such, every moment of 蘇醒 steps either toward a serene tension or an explosive climb. Drummer and primary songwriter Anthony Vanacore rests the center of OU’s sound, laying foundations that range from a mathematically erratic SikTh kick-infested bounce (“淨化 Purge”) to a Jegog emulating wonderland that’s as much King Crimson as it is “Kaneda’s Theme” (“念 Recall”). Whether the drive of a track calls for virtuosic snare ghosting (“海 Ocean”) or arena-weighted hammering (“破魂 Spirit Broken”), his kit serves as a guide. And in suit, his stringed bandmates render as tonal chameleons, lurching along with chord-expanding drones and pops to build ascending progressions (“蘇醒 Frailty,” “海 Ocean”) or offering Metheny-smooth jazzy counterpoint to swell drifting ambience (“血液 Redemption”). OU’s compositional vocabulary rests in harmonic excess, a point in which this seasoned troupe indulges for 歪歪地愛 YYDS,2 which is both offensive and brilliant in its forceful djent playfulness.

But all of the above hinges on the energetic flow that vocalist Lynn Wu imbues across each track. Again offering her services only in her native Chinese tongue, there isn’t a single word across 蘇醒 that I understand, though lyric translations and title themes paint a picture throughout that lands a touch more introspective than OU’s previous work. In turn, Wu’s chopped and terraced patterns spiral and gather toward sonic peaks where a lead guitar normally might exist in a different context (“蘇醒 Frailty,” “海 Ocean,” “輪迴 Reborn”). As a more traditional and piercing rock voice, Wu holds her own against the equally wailing Townsend on “淨化 Purge” and works alone to swing “破魂 Spirit Broken” between outcry and melancholic resolution. And still reaching further for new levels of manipulation, Wu sees her lines shifted to a vocaloid approximation to match the low-bit charm of “衍生 Capture and Elongate (Serenity).”3 Whatever character 蘇醒 requires Wu embodies in an unparalleled manner.

After all, it’s the idiosyncratic atmosphere into which OU collects its myriad sounds that makes 蘇醒 II: Frailty such a delight. And with a spacious master to back its meticulous construction and snappy runtime, it’s effortless to fall prey to the polyrhythmic hypnosis that OU has mastered. The most unfortunate part, though, about sinking deeper in love with what this singular Chinese act has created is that it’s only real partner is the previous OU album. So if you’re new to the game, you’re in luck, you get one and II. And if you need any extra convincing, just ask yourself whether you enjoy listening to prog that drives lesser music enjoyers up a wall. The real fun is where others fear to look.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Inside Out Music | Bandcamp4
Websites: outheband.com | facebook.com/ou.theband
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #45 #Ambient #Apr24 #ChineseMetal #DevinTownsend #DevinTownsendProject #ExperimentalElectronic #InsideOutMusic #KingCrimson #MathRock #OU #PatMetheny #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #Rush #SikTh #蘇醒IIFrailty

Deicide – Banished by Sin Review

By Steel Druhm

The men of Glen are back! Long-running Barons of Floridian death metal, Deicide return for their lucky number 13 full-length. With a legacy of brutality running back to 1990, Deicide and controversial founder Glen Benton were instrumental in defining the sound of American death metal. Albums like Legion and The Stench of Redemption loom large in the Pantheon of Death, and though they’ve had a spotty track record over the years, a new Deicide platter will always earn attention from yours Steely. 2018’s Overtures of Blasphemy was a surprisingly vicious album and a significant step up from the records preceding it. It suggested a renewed fire and passion and made me hope the good days were not entirely behind Deicide. It’s with those high hopes that I greeted Banished by Sin. With Taylor Nordberg (Inhuman Condition, Ribspreader, ex-Massacre, ex-Wombbath) joining the fray to help out on guitar and vocals,1 there seemed plenty of reasons to be positive about what Banished by Sin would spew upon the masses. The Devil’s in the details though.

Right off the bat, the sound on Banished by Sin is oddly polished and clean, which goes against expectations for a damp Floridian death product. It almost sounds like an Iced Earth album with the guitars ringing so clear, which is odd considering this is undeniably old school death. Opener “From Unknown Heights You Shall Fall” is basic Deicide fare in most respects. It swerves from mid-tempo chugs to thrashing freakouts, with Benton’s signature vomitous snarls poured thickly over the top like tarpoo gravy. It’s a good song and the fluid, melodic solos are quite impressive. “Doomed to Die” channels a portion of the chaos magic that graced their Legion opus, with an effective blend of straightforward riffy blasting and well-timed melodic breaks. It’s good caveman fun and heavy enough to leave an ugly bruise despite the overly clean sound.

The warm-up sets out of the way, Banished blazes through 10 more tales of grand Satanism, with thrashy energy married to brutish grooves. Starting with “Sever the Tongue” the album hits its stride. “Sever” is a high point with a manic riff attack and vocals that sound like a discount exorcism going very wrong, at times crossing into Cradle of Filth territories. “Faithless” delivers in much the same way, with the classic Deicide sound running amok even as it flirts with melodeath in subtle ways before stomping your fat face into the gutter. “Woke from God” introduces a more epic sound to the Deicide canon, blackened and ugly but more grandiose and sweeping. “Bury the Cross…with Your Christ” sounds suspiciously like the recent output from Inhuman Condition, with a rudimentary caveman groove running train on your unlubed ears. It’s fun but borders on death parody. Sadly, some songs on the back half don’t hit with the same blunt force. The title track is just okay, and “I Am I…a Curse of Death” is pretty stock. At a tight 39 minutes with no song reaching the 4-minute mark, things blast by in an angry blur. The production is a thorn in the album’s side. It’s too polished and clean for what the band does and this reduces the material’s impact. This is a strange unforced error from such an experienced band.

Glen’s vocals sound more grisly and savage than on some recent releases. His guttural rasps can get tedious faster than other growlers, but the way he’s double-tracked with blackened screams helps provide diversity and Taylor Nordberg spots him with some backing vocals. Kevin Quirion and T. Nordberg deliver a charming assortment of thrashy riffs, sharp trems, and chuggy grooves to power the material forward, and the solo work dotting the album is dynamic and almost neo-classical at times (“The Light Defeated’ especially”). The solos are so melodic at times that they feel at odds with the surrounding music, but this provides an interesting counterpoint and a respite from the skull stomping.

Deicide aren’t able to recapture the late-career glory they bottled on Overtures of Blasphemy, and some tracks almost feel like a knowing send-up of death metal, but the overall package is entertaining despite a flawed production. There’s still unholy rage beating in the hearts of Glen and Co. and Banished by Sin is a fun, easy-to-digest serving of anti-religion bile. I suggest you leave a little room for Satan.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Reigning Phoenix
Websites: https://deicideofficial.com | facebook.com/officialdeicide | instagram.com/deicideofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

Felagund

And just like that, we’re blessed with another Deicide album. “Blessed” is probably the wrong verb to use in this situation, but the fact remains that this year marks the first new Deicide record in six years. 2018’s Overtures of Blasphemy received high praise from our very own GardensTale, earning a coveted score of 3.5 and breaking an AMG tradition of offering middling to downright disappointing scores for ‘ol Glen and the boys. But say what you will about the quality of their more recent output, Deicide are still genre stalwarts; a foundational band in the development of the early Florida death metal sound who are still capable of churning out the sacrilegious goods. Which brings us to Banished by Sin, the band’s 13th studio album since their self-titled debut in 1990. That’s 34 years and a lot of history to be compared against, but compare we must, good sense and propriety be damned.

Just keep in mind, friends: Glen’s gonna Glen, and that holds just as true on Banished by Sin as it ever has. Regardless of lineup changes, the evolution of the death metal genre, and his own development as a musician, Glen Benton remains an ardent enemy of the divine, and he’s maintained that anger and disgust for over three decades. While it’s easy to grow tired of a band’s hyper-fixation on all things anti-religion, I can’t help but muster a grudging respect for Glen and Deicide’s dogmatic dedication to virulent atheism. Glen’s been barking at us for years now about the hypocrisy of the faithful, and he and his bandmates maintain that once again on Banished by Sin.

Unsurprisingly, Banished by Sin sounds a lot like most latter-day Deicide albums: chugging riffs that usually find a solid groove, noticeably deeper, nearly incomprehensible growls punctuated by high-pitched shrieks, and an abundance of blackened blasts n’ tremolos, capped off by a clean, more modern production. And generally, this approach serves them well. “From Unknown Heights you Shall Fall” and “Doomed to Die” are a quick one-two punch in the gut to kick things off, delivering the band’s chosen brand of simple, short, high-intensity death metal. “Doomed to Die” deserves a special mention because it also includes a section that sounds remarkably similar to “Sacrificial Suicide” from Deicide’s self-titled debut. But fair play: if you’ve been treading the infernal boards as long as these gents, you’re allowed to ape a cut from your own 34-year-old album. “Sever the Tongue” introduces a bit of interesting dissonance, and the riffing on “Faithless” sounds more like a Repentless-era Slayer cut without feeling out of place.

As the album chugs (and trems) on, there are a few tunes that tend to get lost in the shuffle. While “Bury the Cross…With Your Christ” is a definite mid-album highlight, the two intervening tracks leave a little to be desired, similar as they are in both speed and intensity. Fortunately, the titular “Banished by Sin” introduces a welcome change of pace, with frenetic double bass and a shotgun-blasting riff. Similarly, album closer “The Light Defeated” tones down the constant tremolos and pumps the breaks just enough to keep introduce some new dynamics and keep the riffing interesting. I have to give a brief mention here to new guitarist Taylor Nordberg (Inhuman Condition, Ribspreader, ex-Massacre), a talented player who nevertheless seems to have never met a whammy bar he didn’t wish to wed. The sheer amount of screaming, paint chip-peeling solos that feature multiple times on each track quickly go from fun to repetitious, making Banished by Sin and some of its lesser tunes a bit more difficult to enjoy.

Decide’s latest album is stronger than either 2011’s To Hell With God or 2013’s In the Minds of Evil, but doesn’t rise to the level of 2018’s Overtures of Blasphemy. So where does that leave us? With a generally enjoyable but overall mixed release with some of the same nagging issues that have plagued most modern-day Deicide platters. Be that as it may, it’s still good to know that Glen and his merry, demonic men are still out there. Even if the final results aren’t all to my liking, they remain dedicated to their unholy mission, angrily blaspheming with vim and vigor. To paraphrase one Sam Elliot: I don’t know about you, but I take comfort in that. Deicide. takin’ ‘er easy for all us sinners.

Rating: 2.5/3.0

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #BanishedBySin #DeathMetal #Deicide #InhumanCondition #OverturesOfBlasphemy #Review #Reviews

Mistigram: this #ANSIart screen by AdeptApril observes the World Day for Laboratory Animals. (Depicted is a #LabRat being trained to solve the Daily Struggle / Two Buttons meme.)

https://mistfunk.wordpress.com/2024/04/24/adeptapril-apr24/

#24April #AdeptApril #ANSIArt #Apr24 #labRat #twoButtons

ACxDC – G.O.A.T. Review

By Dear Hollow

If you don’t know ACxDC, then what are you doing with your life? Like listening to actually good metal? Too bad for your sorry ass. The LA natives are back in black for their own highway to hell, and it’s too good to be true. For the woefully uninformed and uncultured, don’t even think alternate or direct current and Brian Johnson, you swine. It’s Antichrist Demoncore, and the peanut butter cup moniker of divine apathy is so sweet and gummy. ACxDC’s EP The Second Coming was introduced when I first got to college, and if I’d had my way, debut full-length Antichrist Demoncore would have been blaring when I graduated. Well, maybe not, because they’re really fuckin’ obnoxious.

Now, I know I’m supposed to be the knower of all things and genres, but ACxDC was my first powerviolence experience, and only later did I delve into the grind-adjacent beatdowns of Weekend Nachos, Nails, or Mammoth Grinder.1 Only when the inimitable Dolphin Whisperer crooned sweetly, explaining that powerviolence is actually grindcore’s degenerate and inbred little cousin did I understand that powerviolence is actually fundamentally better. Just as its two full-lengths, bevy of splits and EPs since 2003 suggest, ACxDC is about as meatheaded and tempo-abusing as they come, with hints of thrash, groove, and crust, with a forked tongue implanted heavily in cheek. It’s fun. It’s obnoxious.

Oh look, you’re still here. ACxDC tears you a new one across twenty-four minutes and seventeen tracks of insanity hastily garbed in Satanic gym clothes for the second coming of the hot new PE teacher.2 The riffs get hot and heavy fast, with tracks like “Boxed In,” “Greatest of All Time,” “Definition of Insanity,” and “Thot Police” dragging their crusty balls across unassuming listeners’ ears, while the relentless blastbeats and grindy sanders of “Wanna See a Dead Body?,” “Flying Pigs,” and “Vested Interest” are sure to warrant some facial reconstructions. Vocals are all over the place, shrieks and growls taking the piss, as tracks like “Fairweather,” “Clout Chaser,” and “Goatcore” take a bite straight outta that death metal buttcheek. The abilities of the guitars to shift from crusty hardcore a la Amebix to the thick slogs of Entombed A.D., and the manic attack of the drums and its formidable tone? Boy howdy.

Now, the chugs are a different story. And by a different story, I mean we go from Eclipse to Breaking Dawn, okay? I guess the chugs and stank make powerviolence not grindcore but I ain’t a gatekeeper – hell, I don’t even know anyone who keeps gates (what is that, for pets?). If you’re like, “oh Dear Hollow talks about the shit he doesn’t like in this section,” think again, bitch. The chugs of ACxDC are trying to be your friend, with tracks like “Karoshi,” “At Midnight” and “Cloud Chaser” clawing their way into your pants once and for all. Cuts like “Fairweather,” “Thot Police,” and “Expired” are necessary listening if you like music, but otherwise the rest of G.O.A.T. is the most obnoxious din ever, guaranteed to get your parents calling the pastor while clutching pearls and a copy of the ESV New Testament. Because that’s how ACxDC do.

I have a method (for once) for grading ACxDC. I take how many stank faces have I made through the course of this album, then take that number and divide it by, like, twelve or maybe eight. Whatever. Then I add a solid sixty-nine, then take the integral of that shit.3 My point is that I made a lotta stank faces with G.O.A.T. and I perturbed a lot of student work by blasting this in class. It’s ACxDC for the true G.O.A.T., IYKYK.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: acxdc.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/ACxDC
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #30 #ACxDC #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #CrustPunk #DeathMetal #GOAT_ #Grindcore #MammothGrinder #Nails #Powerviolence #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #WeekendNachos

Accept – Humanoid Review

By Steel Druhm

The 17th album by the unstoppable Germanic horde known as Accept is upon us and resistance is brutile. After the enjoyable machinations of 2021s Too Mean to Die, those who keep their balls to the wall opted to stick with the same basic formula. Their three-guitarist wall of sound is back along with no-longer-so-new frontman Mark Tornillo, and Accept find themselves in a late-career groove, very aware of who they are and what they want to be. And that means Accept continue to drift closer and closer to AC/DC territory as their core metal sound drills down further into hard rock idioms. This is still metal to be sure, but the hard rock hooks and overall simplicity of design are increasingly the key feature. Founding guitarist Wolf Hoffman continues to find inspiration in classical music but adroitly dumbs it down for thugs, goons, and mouth breathers, of which I am proudly one. If you loved Accept in the 80s or 90s or just over the past few years, you’ll recognize and appreciate the shit they’re throwing at the barroom walls here.

With hooks and balls the essential ingredient, opening mission statement “Diving into Sin” is like a slap upside the head from an old friend. It’s a rugged, dirty anthem with grit and attitude powered by beefy riffs from the axe triad that provides the foundation for Mark Tornillo’s raspy screeching, which sounds more and more like Brian Johnson on an ugly bender (that’s a good thing). Hoffman’s interesting guitar flourishes add an extra dimension to the hooliganism and everything feels tight and right. The punch-drunk rampage continues on the burly title track, which also benefits from slick guitar work, and the band elevates their game for the more epic-sized might of “Frankenstein.” This one is pumped full of machismo and a ne’er-do-well 80s verve and its forceful riffage and Tornillo’s constant exhortations that “I’m alive!” make me want to fight a mob of angry, torch-bearing villagers for the title of King of Windmills.

Also rock solid is the charming ode to toxic masculinity called “Man Up,” which will send the sensitive types scrambling for safe spaces as Tornillo implores you to hang tough through life’s rough patches. Move this one to your leg day playlist and suck it up, buttercup! “The Reckoning” is a primo example of why Accept have endured so long, riding waves of riff mania roughshod over your feeble defenses and making tales of destruction and doom sound exciting and fun. Hoffman and company cram an ass-ton of guitar pimpage into the song and it feels hard, lean, and hungry. “Nobody Gets Out Alive” is an uber-catchy rocker that sticks immediately, and to bring themselves in closer alignment with AC/DC, there’s a tribute to hard drinking called “Straight Up Jack.” There are no throwaway pieces and every track has its cool, catchy bits, with moody power ballad “Ravages of Time” offering some maudlin but effective pathos. At a reasonable 48 minutes with almost every song in the 4-minute window, Humanoid goes down like fine hobo wine and requires no chaser.

The biggest positive comes from what the three-headed guitar monster cooks up. Though the songs themselves are direct, no-nonsense rockers, Hoffman, Uwe Lulis, and young gun Philip Shouse dazzle with slick, enthusiastic leads and harmonies as Hoffman infuses the tumult with his love of classical music without ever coming down with Yngwie Madness. Hoffman excels at decorating these filthy cuts with a hint of classical grandeur and then retreating back to knuckle-dragging before things get too posh for comfort. Amid the 18-string maelstrom, Mark Tornillo stands strong, his whiskey and cigarette-seasoned vocal cords hard as nails and keeping things fugly and pugnacious. He makes the most of the rare opportunity to explore a “softer” side on “Ravages of Time,” but the rest of the album is all razor blades and axle grease.

Humanoid is another successful chapter in the second stage of Accept’s eternal crusade to build you a functional Metal Heart. It’s better and more consistent than Too Mean to Die, with their bare-bones style polished and improved upon. The writing is tight and the band sounds young, dumb, and full of…rum. I’ll take as many of these consistently hooky platters as these coots can crank out between now and the final reckoning. Hail, Hail Germania.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: NA| Format Reviewed: STREAM
Label: Napalm
Websites: acceptworldwide.com | facebook.com/accepttheband
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #35 #ACDC #Accept #Apr24 #GermanMetal #HeavyMetal #Humanoid #NapalmRecords #Review #Reviews

Mother of All – Global Parasitic Leviathan Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Have you ever wondered what modern melodic death metal might sound like if these up-and-coming bands would take a moment to find a sound that isn’t pure pastiche? Now, I know that might seem critical—and it is. But with so many bands out there that are variations on At the Gates, In Flames, Dark Tranquillity, and whatever other big name you can think of, pure worship of these bands, who wield extended discographies and active tour schedules, just isn’t enough. That kind of retread with a tinge of mix-up can be good, of course. Just look at our latest rodeö for the proudly olde-reaching Veriteras. So do we need a Global Parasitic Leviathan to save us?

Mother of All thinks we do. You may have assumed by now that Global Parasitic Leviathan is indeed a melodic death metal album up front—true! But if you caught wind of their full-length debut from 2021, Age of the Solipsist, you know that Mother of All wears that title but pushes it until you wonder whether that’s all you can call it. Having featured legendary bassist Steve Digiorgio (Testament, ex-Death, and more), its thrash-loaded and technical approach helped build a face in a scene that often renders faceless. It helps too that main mind Martin Haumann gets around in his own right, ranging, outside of his brainchild Mother of All, in smooth skin-smacking with Danish countrymen Timechild to providing depressive kit-abuse with sadmongers Afsky. And in the plethora of riffs and shakes across Global Parasitic Leviathan, it’s easy to argue that that whole range plays true.

For Mother of All, the unifying force in eclectic attack comes back to the most essential word in melodic death metal: melody.1 Whether it’s the delicate, dim-lit, clean guitar whimsy that opens “Corporate Warfare Leviathan” or the one-two-Carcassian groove that rips apart “Monuments,” guitarists Henrik Rangstrup (Endarken) and Frederik Jensen (Thus) deliver consistent, high-quality riffs that recur and warp throughout the straightforward structure of each song. In that sense, Mother of All works harder than most bands to find transitional phrases through connecting chords, thrash-informed scale fills, huge cut-away solos, many of which possess the tonal immediacy of late-period Death works (check the sneaky harmonies in “Cosmic Darkness”). And while the guitarwork itself remains buttery smooth and mid-tempo, kitmaster Haumann guides each fretted flurry with a shapeshifting style that could blast around each corner just as easily as it could skank or steady around another.

Unfortunately, that mid-tempo character, as many twists and searing leads that it possesses, can make Global Parasitic Leviathan a slower roll than I would hope for. It’s not the tempo alone, but also some of the mix choices that render the guitars and vocals well above all else,2 and at many times, boosted to ugly, crackling volumes (the un-gradual swell that opens “Cosmic Darkness” or the scratchy acoustic close of “Pillars”). The experience does not lack dynamics entirely, however, with new bassist Michael Møller’s clang providing essential low-end thump around glassy and wailing moments (“The Stars Have Already Faded,” “Pillars”). And a drummer by trade, Haumann likely wouldn’t let any final master exist with his nimble cymbal splashes reduced to crinkles. Yet Haumann himself is not a particularly diverse vocalist in the bark and rasp, so his rhythmic cadences loud and at the top can create a similar-sounding atmosphere in each number, which straddles the line between defining the sound of Mother of All and simply being repetitive.

No matter how you cut it, each song across Global Parasitic Leviathan finds a way to an enjoyable finish, even if all eight songs in sequence don’t always come together as strongly as I want. Undoubtedly too, it’s easy for me to say that I miss the predictably brilliant flourish that Digiorgio brought to the previous outing. But Mother of All is more than just the sum of a legend’s fingers, youthful ideals, and genre patchwork. Global Parasitic Leviathan struts with the swagger of grooving thrash, hooks with the sticky scatterings of melodic death metal, and hammers with cynicism for the trappings of the modern world. Though I do wish I could find myself a little more infected.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self Release
Websites: motherofallofficial.com | motherofallofficial.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: April 12th, 2024

#2024 #30 #Apr24 #Carcass #DanishMetal #Death #DeathMetal #Exodus #GlobalParasiticLeviathan #IndependentRelease #MelodicDeathMetal #MotherOfAll #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Testament #ThrashMetal #Timechild

Adon – Adon Review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

When I happened across one of the singles for Adon, I recall thinking it sounded, quote, “impossibly good.” Adon formed in 2019 and has thus far released one EP, Arkane, in 2020. They currently maintain a humble online presence; unsurprising for a relatively new band, but from what I’d heard I couldn’t help but believe they deserved better. When I got the chance to review their self-titled debut I felt excited at the prospect of potentially helping their following grow… but that depends on the music, doesn’t it? And so I dug in, hoping the potential I saw in their pre-release material would be realized.

Turns out that potential was realized, and more. Listening to Adon is like falling into a black hole that’s actually a meat grinder; this is a densely textured album of cosmic scope with a heaviness that strikes with the force of a supernova. Adon plays a kind of extreme black metal that inhabits a singularity between Darkspace, Behemoth, and Decapitated. Atmospheric layers of black metal tremolos, vocal fills, and trilling flutes flank the vitriolic riffs, creating a genuine sense of depth. However, Adon never lose themselves in a cosmic haze, instead keeping the music grounded in accessible yet subtly complex black metal aggression. “Ascension” wastes no time introducing you to the Adon assault: a wall of anguished growls and piercing guitars try to drown an emerging riff that escalates into a skull-splitting onslaught. Adon is the complete package; the musicianship is top-notch—Decapitated’s James Stewart kills it on drums, Argonath is a fierce guitarist, and I love Æthulwulf II’s unhinged vocals—the songwriting is mature, and the production keeps the guitars brutally heavy without ever smothering the music’s nuances.

There’s plenty to like about Adon at face value, but for me, the true appeal lies in the palpable atmosphere of madness. Like voices in your head, the penetrative layers of growls and tremolos floating above the riffs invade your mind, coagulating into an unshakeable feeling of slowly going mad—until the white noise suddenly drops, and your focus zeroes in on the guitars. It’s an exciting give and take, and is prevalent throughout the album’s shorter tracks. “Æther” and “Azimuth” utilize this through old-school black metal verses leading into heavier, death metal choruses. “Axiom” is a more straightforward slab of hateful black metal, dispersing the noise for a muscular bridge and the album’s best guitar solo courtesy of Warscythe’s Justin Sakogawa. The cosmic scale of Adon is most felt during the ten-plus minute epics. The discordant downward spiral of “Æon” and the energetic battle between cacophonous flutes and guitar riffs—including a badass guest performance by Fallujah’s Kyle Schaefer—in “Adon” drag you into a tangible musical void, before building back heavensward with massive riffs whose clarity contrasts the chaos of each song’s first half. A descent into madness, a search for knowledge, the emergence of something different entirely; Adon’s themes all come together here, and they are clear highlights.

There’s one point in “Adon” where I first noticed a crack in Adon’s firmament. The recurring motif of swirling flutes (courtesy of Ember Belladonna) giving way to intense riffs nails the desired effect—light and dark, knowledge and nothingness—as a fast-paced alternating decrescendo or as a swampy ambiance of horror flutes and guitars. The theming is lost when a funeral doom riff bursts into a bright dance between flutes and notably progressive guitars, before switching back again; these ideas feel awkward when sandwiched together due to their length. This section befuddled me, and I began to notice other cracks; the clean guitar ending of “Æther” feels slightly out of place, “Æon” fades out too fast after such an effective build-up, and the chorus in “Azimuth” sounds cluttered when mixed with the guitar solo. Despite everything, I struggle to glean any underlying pattern of incompetence in Adon; rather, they’re isolated mistakes earnestly committed by artists close to their art, and their infrequence can’t help but accentuate them. Fortunately, there’s nothing minor edits couldn’t fix, but that only makes their existence sting all the greater.

Even with some wrinkles to iron out, Adon is a stupidly good debut. When I set out to review Adon, I hoped that I could, in some small way, act as a catalyst for the success and recognition that Adon deserves, but I’ve realized that I overestimated my own importance in this equation. Adon is a self-assured release whose quality speaks for itself, and Adon is destined for remarkable things regardless of my help.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Release
Websites: adon.bandcamp | adon.facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 12th, 2024

#2024 #35 #Adon #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #Behemoth #BlackMetal #Darkspace #DeathMetal #Decapitated #EmberBelladonna #ExtremeMetal #Fallujah #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Warscythe