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Contrite Metal Guy: It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Wrongness, Volume the Second

By Cherd

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. Cascading promos, unreasonable deadlines, draconian editors, and the unwashed metal mobs – it makes for a swirling maelstrom of music and madness. In all that tumult, errors are bound to happen and sometimes our initial impression of an album may not be completely accurate. With time and distance comes wisdom, and so we’ve decided to pull back the confessional curtain and reveal our biggest blunders, missteps, oversights and ratings face-plants. Consider this our sincere AMGea culpa. Redemption is retroactive, forgiveness is mandatory.

As those of us who follow the Gregorian calendar and partake in Judeo/Christian cultural traditions prepare to face the final bosses of the holiday season, we experience a wide range of feelings. Anticipation, at the prospect of gorging on holiday treats as we shuffle from one party to another thrown by family and friends. Nostalgia, of course, as we uphold our traditions and reflect on the celebrations of yesteryear. And, for those who write music reviews for a non-living, contrition. Intense embarrassment and remorse as we prepare for Listurnalia, revisiting records we thought we had judicated accurately only to discover the depth of our wrongheadedness. Sometimes our self-reproach has nothing to do with impending lists. Sometimes, shortly after writing a review, an ember of doubt will ignite, smoldering just under our calm exteriors, growing until we want to shriek “Dissemble no more! I admit the deed! — tear up the planks! — here, here! — it is the beating of his hideous heart!” It’s been over three years since the last time we unloaded our disgrace onto you, the unsuspecting reader, so expect this to be a long self-flagellation session.

– Cherd

Carcharodon

Verses in contrition

Earlier this year, I described Hulder’s Verses in Oath as spellbinding, going on to ward it a lofty 4.5. I’ve taken a fair amount of stick for that in the months since, both in the comments and round the staffroom feeding trough. And while that’s fine—you’ve all been wrong before and I have absolutely no doubt you’ll all be wrong again—it’s only fair that such consistent criticism should cause me to reflect a little. And reflect I have. Now, it’s true that, as I said in my review, Verses in Oath is dark and vicious, but also haunting and ethereal. But it’s also true that, although well executed, it lacks true originality and I got carried away. It happens. I loved all the constituent elements of the record and I still think that they are woven together with skill and good songcraft. However, it’s not an album I’ve returned to as much as I thought I would and (spoilers!) it’s not going to make my year end list. Which makes it rather hard to defend the 4.5 any longer. So I won’t. It’s a very good album but no more than that.

Original score: 4.5
Adjusted score: 3.5

We came here to apologize

Minnesota’s Ashbringer has always been a band of shades, shifting between atmo-black, shoegaze, post-metal, and more. On last year’s We Came Here to Grieve, they added heavily fuzzed blues melodies and languid Incubus-esque post-rock, which I lapped up. Looking, and of course listening, back, there’s still a lot to like about the album but—and it’s a big but—I wince at those clean vocals. I suggested in my review that, while the cleans were not great, there was a sort of vulnerable authenticity to Nick Stanger’s voice that meant he just about got away with it. I can only think I was in a very vulnerable place at the time because he absolutely does not get away with it, nor should he be allowed to. Much as I enjoy Stanger’s harsh post-hardcore vox, his cleans are outright bad in places, which should have placed a very hard ceiling on the score that the album could achieve. Somehow, We Came Here to Grieve shattered that ceiling. It must now be repaired.

Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.0

Glare of the Noise

To more recent errors: in September, I did an injustice to Glare of the Sun’s TAL. I’m ashamed to say it but I went into that review looking for flaws—and I did find a couple—because I’d already done what you would all see next: Kanonenfieber. I didn’t lightly award that 5.0 and I stand by it but I was painfully conscious of it sitting there, on the assembly line and that affected my assessment of Glare of the Sun. While I think TAL could, and probably should, have been shorter and that there were a couple of less impactful songs (“Leaving Towards Spring,” for example), there are no real missteps here and it’s a great album. I stand by the words in my review but not the score, which should have been a 4.0.

Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: 4.0

Noisy remorse

I can keep this brief because I’ve already publicly admitted to underscoring Leiþa’s Reue. I gave it a 3.5 but knew at the time that it deserved a 4.0, something duly confirmed by AMG Himself, when he awarded it Record o’ the Month for January 2023, hinting that he might even have supported a 4.5. I think that might be going a touch far but, when I look back at my review, it reads like a 4.0 and it should’ve been a 4.0. The only reason it wasn’t, was that Noise (of Kanonenfieber, Leiþa and Non Est Deus) just makes too much damned good black metal, much of which I’d already gushed about. Ironically, given it was also a Noise project that led to me shortchanging Glare of the Sun, here his excellence also caused me to underrate his own album. Fool.

Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: 4.0

Dear Hollow

Iconic in a different universe

Rarely do I bestow 4.0s out of spite, but that’s exactly what happened with Fractal Generator. While I have liked their follow-up Convergence much more for its punishingly dense palette, I simply could not find any distinct fault with Macrocosmos. In hindsight, the album’s inhuman technicality and dissonance doesn’t play nice with the organicity and warmth the production offers, but more glaringly, I never returned to the album. Sure, some tracks really stand out and rip a hole in the space-time continuum (“Aeon,” “Chaosphere,” “Shadows of Infinity”), but for all its experimentalism and alien dissonance paired with deathgrind, Fractal Generator’s debut was simply unmemorable. Deathgrind bruisers like Knoll and Vermin Womb simply do it better, as the Italians never quite cut loose in the same way deathgrind ought to. What’s left is largely a pale imitation of Misery Index with an added shot of Portal’s IONian dissonance. It’s still good and improved with Convergence, but it is not the cosmos wrecker I thought it was.

Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 2.5

Cold ‘n’ what?

I have a bad habit of pretense, and Calligram’s The Eye is the First Circle was one hell of a pretense. Bestowing the same honor to Position | Momentum seemed like an open-and-shut case, but like Fractal Generator, I never returned to it and it never made any appearances on any year-end lists. It boasts more icy punk-infused black metal that would be sure to get the, like, four fans of Darkthrone’s Circle the Wagons or the underground cult of the gone-but-unforgotten Young and In the Way going, but it more exemplified the way-too-safe crash back to earth after The Eye. The experimental focus is still there with melancholic jazz (“Ostranenie”) and post-rock crescendos (“Seminari Dieci”), and the blackened punk is still a barnstormer (“Sul Dolore,” “Tebe”), but the absence of the two-ton sludge that weighted The Eye is felt – as if Calligram got blown away in a blizzard. In many ways, Position | Momentum is the Italian act’s more kvlt offering, but it alienates its widespread appeal with its now-limited audience. Great for some, less for others.

Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.0

TAKE ME TO FUCKIN’ CHURCH

Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter’s past in Lingua Ignota is certainly noteworthy, but when she dispels all the bells and whistles, we’re left with the horror of SAVED! It’s stripped to the bone, deceptively straightforward, with only some experimental tricks to make the subtle shift from Jesus lover to Jesus hater. Likely the most returned-to album I’ve ever reviewed,1 vicious and jaded sardonicism (“All My Friends Are Going to Hell”), hymns crashing into uncanny valley (“There is Power in the Blood,” “Nothing But the Blood”), and ominous dirges (“Idumea,” “The Poor Wayfaring Stranger”) all collide in a subtle yet earth-shaking affair that I have yet to shake. This is not even mentioning some of the most punishing sounds to shake Appalachia with Pentecostal and blasphemous fury: truly, the dissonant swell of “I Will Be With You Always” and Hayter’s tortured screaming and glossolalia in “How Can I Keep From Singing” have never left me. While the sentiment of a 3.5 is certainly merited in its divisive approach, the impact of SAVED! cannot be understated.

Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: 4.5

Thus Spoke

Meditations on contrition

In my first year as a newly promoted writer, I let the chill vibes of a summer holiday get to my head with Bong-Ra’s Meditations. It’s a good album, that much is still true. It is, as I pointed out at the time, immersive and engaging despite being totally instrumental. It’s also undeniably unique thanks to Bong-Ra’s choice to combine saxophone and oud with piano and guitar, and the striking way that volume is used to build tension. I do think I over-emphasized this novelty and strength, but it’s there regardless. Have I revisited it since 2022? The answer is no, and it is mainly for this reason that I concede I overrated it.

Original score: Excellent
Adjusted score: Very Good

Between the scores of right and wrong

I think I must have been in an exceptionally bad mood the week I wrote my review of Between the Worlds of Life and Death. Yes, Vale of Pnath disappointed a little with a turn in the direction of deathcore, but the result is hardly itself disappointing. My first inkling I’d done Between the Worlds of Life and Death a disservice was when I realized I’d been listening to it in the gym an awful lot, several months after giving my official score. I gestured towards anticlimactic song structures and distracting theatricality, and while I still think Vale of Pnath could have refined their templates, these compositions have stood the test of time, and of leg day. It may take them one more record to solidify their new sound, but this was a cracking record I was evidently in the wrong mindset to appreciate when it first landed in my hands.

Original score: Good
Adjusted score: Very Good

Cutting the throat of an incorrect score

When my review of Cutting the Throat of God went live, I noticed several questions in the comments to the effect of “where’d the ‘Iconic’ get lost?” Well, here I am, barely six months later, to set things right. After spending the best part of that time listening and relistening daily; after seeing the band live this October and falling in love all over again; after running through the band’s back catalogue and confirming that I do indeed like this one best, I can no longer deny what I knew from the start. Call me over-eager, fawning, blinded by infatuation. I don’t care. Ulcerate are the undisputed masters of their craft and this is an album I’ll be listening to for the next ten years at least. My only regret is not doing this the first time around.

Original score: Excellent
Adjusted score: Iconic

Sparagmos (of my original rating)

In line with my habit of taking the least linear route possible into a subgenre, I became enamored with what I now know to be basically ‘diSEMBOWELMENT-core’ before ever listening to diSEMBOWELMENT themself. Think Worm, Tomb Mold, and the current subject, Spectral Voice. Without the obvious reference point, the undeniably crushing, cavernous might of Sparagmos stunned me perhaps more than it had any right to. Make no mistake, Sparagmos remains a behemoth of intensely frightening doom death, one that’s fully capable of dragging me into its abyssal depths. And its ability to immerse in spite of its length and creeping pace still impresses me. But now that the ritual haze has lifted a little, I can recognize that it’s not quite the pinnacle of perfection I was fooled into believing it was.

Original score: Excellent
Adjusted score: Great

Score of unreason

I’m not sure exactly what held me back from awarding a higher score to Age of Unreason, especially considering that a quick look at my average would show I’m not usually one for restraint. Whatever the reason, I deemed ColdCell to have taken a slight step down from their previous effort, The Greater Evil, but with the benefit of hindsight, I see I had this entirely the wrong way around. Age of Unreason is emotionally poignant and refreshingly vulnerable, and it’s delivered in a unique, compelling black metal package. Dark and somewhat mysterious, like all of ColdCell’s output, it has the benefit of being much sharper, and more skilfully edited, which makes it endlessly relistenable. I recognize now that this is, in fact, ColdCell’s best album.

Original score: Very Good
Adjusted score: Great

Dolphin Revisioner

Premature coagulation

It’s not that Coagulated Bliss doesn’t contain any great music. Between the heavier bright and fiery noise rock cuts (“Half Life Changelings”), martial stomps (“Doors to Mental Agony”), and Discordance Axis powergrind (“Vomiting Glass”) it represents among the best stretches of Full of Hell offerings. Coagulated Bliss also boasts a fantastic soundstage. As a rhythmically interesting band with more to say than simple blast beats and hammer shows, Full of Hell brings it with the powerviolence escalations (“Transmuting Chemical Burns”) and sliding grooves (“Schizoid Rapture”) in a clear and punchy manner for which I’d always hoped. But as time marched on and I continued to revel in these many reasons to celebrate Full of Hell, I came too to find a distaste for the most pandering and unnecessary tracks—cameo performances that rob the luster of Full of Hell’s raw energy. Does it feel silly to say that a twenty-five-minute album runs almost five minutes too long? No, not at all when that five minutes of completely avoidable downtime kills a historic run. As such, I’m left to remember Coagulated Bliss more for its near greatness, its finish line stumble— yet, I long for where this puts Full of Hell next.

Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.5

Third eye open

Emergent is unbelievably dense for an album that lets shrill, alien leads dance about the spaciousness of a booming, metallic floor—a bass-rich, industrial pulse that has allowed Autarkh’s sophomore strike to rattle with an upward energy. An album doesn’t always lend itself well to the constraint of a review cycle, especially when its biggest boom rests in amplification, loudness, and feeling. While I try to cycle everything I review through a number of listening platforms, a extra abandon on extended commutes allows cranked tones to work their wonders. And in Emergent’s meticulous design I’ve continued to discover swirling and diving synth chirps, buzzing and scuzzing low-end traps, all of which frame their eerie and jazzy progressive howl with unshakable, unrelenting rhythms. Intention lives in every panning channel hum, emotion lives in every broken-voiced, discordant cry, and exploration lives both in the bulge of every swell and spread of every break. Though Emergent received two scores in its initial stand, it would seem that neither I nor Kenfren had the proper perspective to grant Autarkh the right score. But time settles all debts, and with nothing in the metalverse sounding quite like Autarkh, Emergent holds an esteemed and flourishing spot in my rotation.

Original score: Very Good.
Adjusted score: Great!

Mystikus Hugebeard

Traverse the regret

I have made no secret of my contrition over Sgaile’s Traverse the Bealach (my regret was even deep enough to mention it on the 15 year anniversary piece). Both commenters and staff alike recognized my underrating, but the miserable truth is I knew it before even they did. In my review, I allowed every perceived flaw to become a glaring boil out of some misguided belief that I had to be hypercritical of something I loved lest I not be taken seriously as a Super Important Music Reviewer. I do think Traverse the Bealach’s second half isn’t quite as strong as the first half, but it’s nowhere near as damaging as I’d initially tried to convince myself. Sgaile’s Traverse the Bealach is never anything less than a delightful listen with some of the most cohesive, satisfying songwriting from any band I’ve heard, and is just as enjoyable a year later as it was on release. Tune in to next year’s Contrite Metal Guy when I adjust the score even higher, but for now just call me Mystikus Absolvedbeard.

Original Score: 3.5
Adjusted Score: 4.0

#2024 #AgeOfUnreason #Ashbringer #Autarkh #BetweenTheWorldsOfLifeAndDeath #BongRa #Calligram #CoagulatedBliss #ColdCell #ContriteMetalGuy #Convergence #CuttingTheThroatOfGod #Emergent #FractalGenerator #FullOfHell #GlareOfTheSun #Hulder #Leitha #Meditations #Reue #ReverendKristinMichaelHayter #Saved_ #Sgaile #TAL #TheEyeIsTheFirstCircle #TraverseTheBealach #Ulcerate #ValeOfPnath #VersesInOath #WeCameHereToGrieve

Dolphin Whisperer’s and Ferox’s Top Ten(ish) of 2023

By Dolphin Whisperer

Dolphin Whisperer

I don’t remember anymore exactly when or how I stumbled upon Angry Metal Guy, but I know that I’ve been reading the site for fourteen years now. In that time I’ve gone from barely a student to a working professional who routinely feels the drain of a society sinking around him. But it’s ok because along the way I managed to find a partner who loves me for all my flaws and quirks (or at least that’s what she tells me).1 She wasn’t always there, though, nor was the comfort that we’ve built into our life. When she wasn’t there, and when human company could not provide for whatever reason, both Angry Metal Guy and the music world at large always existed to evolve around me and shine a path to work that saw where I was and reflected my pain. Or my happiness. Or the existential dread of another day. Or just comforted me with a warm bowl of guitar noodles with a side of riff salad.

You may not have seen my words pop around much over that time, but rest assured, I was there like all of you now, reading as AMG the Man validated my feelings or presented admiration for an idol I don’t worship or killed my darlings with questionable opinions. I was there when Steel was the new Ape on the block. I developed a taste for the cast who I agreed with most and scanned with ravenous eyes for the next 0.5 or 1.0 to watch a train wreck meet a car crash. I watched this community who knew nothing of me stand up for important and meaningful things all while staying steadfast to the goal of simply reviewing metal in all its glory.2 Then one day I decided to join the Discord group that had been advertising itself at the bottom of every article for I don’t know how long before I noticed. And in that feverish chatterbox of swirling opinions, I realized that this community meant so much to me that I wanted to give it a go behind the curtains.

I made friends—friends surrounding music whether I agree with them or not. That’s what it means to love music in my mind. Hate and love both ignite passion, and passion is what squirms the happy juice in our brains. I’m sure you, dear reader, will have thoughts about the below choices. And know that you are more than welcome to voice them in any way you see fit. Go ahead, recommend me something while you’re at it. If you do agree with these opinions, also know, then that you can click through to any of the associated reviews, Bandcamp pages, label links—any way that you can reward the artist with your hard-earned currency, if you’re able. Because remember, it’s people like you and me (nerds) who keep this silly business of music alive. Did you know you can click those links? On my reviews, on my buddy Ferox‘s reviews. Even on reviews that you don’t agree with! So read something, click something, support something, tell a friend, tell a partner… or just take whatever knowledge you gain and listen to some good music. If you continue reading, you will encounter my recommendations to fill that void of good music in your life. Above (or below, whatever the Editing Gods decide) Ferox has some recommendations for you too. Know that these two sets are the best recommendations you will receive this year. Live loudly, listen responsibly.3

#ish. Anareta // Fear Not – In a year with less to love, Fear Not could have placed higher, but the riches across different facets of my listening pleasures spilled forth in almost every possible way. Alas, this unique act couldn’t have come further out of left field when promos began to trickle in for 2023, and Anareta’s delicate precision with weeping string melodies against their brutish incisions of blood-curdling shrieks struck the tucked-away Grayceon bone in my body. Alongside up-and-coming act Exulansis out of Oregon, there’s a promising wave of chamber-informed bands growing in the wilds of niche-loving minds. As they say, it only takes two to tango…though “Omnicide” feels a little more like a foxtrot, right?

#10. Tongues // Formløse Stjerner – That I managed to cobble together words that described the mysterious air that surrounds this album baffles me. Countless listens later, I still get lost in the swaying vibrations of the tricky whammy-addled leads and layers of reverb decaying over a vast landscape. And even though all these forward choices usually spell a path down the intangible and incoherent, a lurking melody and grounded rhythmic performance seals the hypnotism that would feel just out of reach with a lesser performance. Your mind knows that each tone source here found its way to the recording behind closed doors, but the energy that emits throughout Formløse Stjerner casts like a sonic beacon through the dreariest of nights on the open, foggy sea.

#9. Vanishing Kids // Miracle of Death – The kids are gone!!! I wasn’t particularly a fan of their previous release so that Miracle of Death hooked me was a small miracle all in itself. I’m no stranger to enjoying shoegaze-y things, psych-rock-laden things, sinfully synthful things—the airy 60s era croons and shimmering Hammond shudders throughout this give me all kinds of shoulder-relaxing, neck-tingling goodies. You think that’d remind me of someone like The Mamas & the Papas, but my mind drifts toward the episodic, warble-clipped daze of the Cunninglynguists classic Oneirology. Funny how the mind works, innit? Regardless, the sheer beauty of sound on display throughout Miracle of Death is impossible for my sugar-starved brain to ignore. Vibe with me.

#8. Slumbering Sun // The Ever-Living Fire – I know the Rodeö entries provide a healthy serving of less-than-desirable releases, but if you’re skipping them entirely then maybe you missed Slumbering Sun when they dropped their debut LP, The Ever-Living Fire way back in February. You see, one of the reasons I’ve helped fuel the Rodeö is that bands like Slumbering Sun still exist out there, under the radar, largely unpromoted, with gem ideas. Leaning on the modern sadperson melodic doom angle pioneered by an early Pallbearer, this Texas troupe delivered a longing yet hopeful collection of tunes that never fails to stir the slow burn of teary-eyed smiles in my heart. If Patrick Walker (Warning) were younger when he found peace, perhaps 40 Watt Sun would have gone this direction.

#7. Jarhead Fertilizer // Carceral Warfare – I didn’t even think I was getting a Jarhead release this year, but the death metal overlords decided that 2023 hadn’t quite graced me yet with this extremely specific kind of deranged, violent, feral death metal that I crave. Samples and segues function like dim lights in a dive bar, masking the filth strewn about while the seedy world around you builds its slow assault on your senses. Carceral Warfare stinks, its riffs carved in cracked and corroded skin. There’s nothing acute about injuries that Jarhead seeks to afflict—the wounds Carceral Warfare doles out aim to fester and brim black with incurable disease.

#6. Gridlink // Coronet Juniper – I never expected my favorite power metal album of the year to be a grindcore album. Gridlink’s take on the punk specialty has always been a bit different though. Always fast, always pushing the treble ceiling, and always leading with melodies that don’t quit, Coronet Juniper highlights all the strengths that this outfit has always promised. As their last album, it functions as a tribute to themselves—their collective passions executed at ridiculous speeds and unadvisable levels of throat punishment. It may not be as groundbreaking as what came before it, but when you’re ten steps ahead of the pack, you can settle to simply show ’em how it’s done. And I got to use Gundam clips in the review. Win-Win.

#5. Wormhole // Almost Human – The formatting will get all weird if I only scream WOOOOOOOOOOOORMMMMMMMMM-HOOOOOOOLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEE like I want to, so here’s more. Ken and I don’t often end up hole-to-hole on an album, but when we do, you better bet that it’s great. When all that was out for Almost Human was the singles, I repeatedly binged those first two tracks as if they were a whole album to themselves. And that’s the magic of this bright and horrifying slamfest. It’s shiny, it’s punishing, and, most importantly, it’s relentless in worming its way into my gaping sound receptors.

#4. Anachronism // Meanders – I’ve been listening to this all damn year at this point. I was late to the Anachronism party with Orogeny, but not so with Meanders. Its uncanny ease in mood and brevity in run hold an important home in contrast to its finger-testing technicality and unparalleled rhythmic brutality. A natural but still unexpected successor to the post-tinged, brooding brutality that showed itself in flashes, Meanders rains textural and colorful in ways that other death metal simply doesn’t—all while still staying death metal. Oh, and Lisa Voisard has a piercing shriek to go with her scruffy bellow. Who would’ve guessed?

#3. healthyliving // Songs of Abundance, Psalms of Grief – I knew how much I loved this album before I realized it. When it dropped, I told all the writers, “I think I have my first TYMHM y’all.” But then I went and filtered it, which is no dishonor but doesn’t quite capture the intensity of what healthyliving has to offer on this debut outing. Building tension through an eclectic array of jangling chords and understated rhythms, the supporting cast sets the perfect stage for vocalist Amaya Lopez-Carramerro to absolutely shred with fearless virtuosic wail. Or she’ll sit back and set a slow burn with a restrained and emotive croon. Can I call her my favorite vocalist in metal right now? Is this even metal? Maybe. But I couldn’t care less. It’s damn good.

#2. KEN mode // VOID – NULL ended up on my top ten last year, and with the consistency that these angry Canadians provide, enjoying VOID came naturally, disarmingly so. What I didn’t expect, however, was that this act known for being noisy and rambunctious and pulverizing would be able to dial back the melancholy of previous works with an additional varnish of lived-in depression. A partner to what came before it, VOID captures the last spat of mania before an extended comedown and the dragging sorrow that follows. And yet somehow, though it hurts almost every step of the way, I feel just a little bit lighter after every listen. Get over yourself and listen if you haven’t bothered yet, if only for the buzzing synths and buttery, booming bass tones.

#1. Vvon Dogma I // The Kvlt of Glitch – You, the commentariat, had plenty to say about this album when it dropped. “I tried… No thanks.” — “I’m voting Dolphin Whisperer off the island. This is crap.” — “What the actual fuck?” All choice examples. Some of you also decided to write this off because of the AI-base of the cover art despite the artists involved self-funding this whole exploration and fully crediting the digital assistance. Your asceticism will go unrewarded. This is a humble reminder that you, the commentariat, do not influence my complete and utter enjoyment of this mad pairing of cyberpunk industrial, fanned-fret progressive, angelic electronic piece of edge-skirting metal. The spirit of adventure that graces every phrase throughout the Kvlt of Glitch stimulates the thrill-seeker, the floating spirit, the head-banging hooligan in me all at once, while lathering me with a fresh sense of dread for a technology-warped future. Maybe you never liked Genghis Tron before they disbanded after Board Up the House. Maybe you never liked Unexpect when they graced us with album after album of shrill and unfathomably progressive fantasy. Maybe you’ve got a shallow throat for multi-layered, programmed voices that fizzle the ears with rich harmony. But The Kvlt of Glitch is willing to welcome you whenever you choose to accept its power. I am God now!4

Honorable Mentions:

World’s End Girlfriend // Resistance & The Blessing – WEG possesses the esoteric ability to manipulate time with beauty. Resistance & The Blessing continues to unravel itself before me as I tackle it as a whole, in chunks, in the narratives it allows you to build with each of its whispered ideas. Sadness, happiness, anger, frustration, longing, acceptance—this monumental offering has it all. I’d be lying if I didn’t say it’s a lot to take in. But I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t love it.
Angra // Cycles of Pain – What can I say, I love Angra. The Lione era is developing a thing for long albums, but at least it’s all good.
Autarkh // Emergent – An album that loops with glitchy industrial and ethereal post-metal as well as this one does is dangerous. You could do a lot worse than hearing this three times in a row though.
Aphotic // Abyssgazer – Blackened deathdoom? Funeral-tinged ritualistic black metal? Whatever you want to call this, there’s an alternate timeline where it’s on the list proper. It just goes.
Horrendous // Ontological Mysterium – Progressive death metal ear candy. I could probably listen to this album all damn day if the last song didn’t dampen the mood a little.
Pupil Slicer // Blossom – Metalcore with nu-metal tropes shouldn’t be as fun as this or the new Mouthbreather album, but those industrial grooves keep on giving. Start the album with the title track for an even better listen.
Ok Goodnight // The Fox and the Bird – I take some issue with the proggy detours in this album, but its storybook charm holds more endearing than all of that.
Maud the Moth + trajedesaliva // Bordando el manto terrestre – Chill-out album of the year. Meditate, read, relax… or just listen to the sultry whispers with your eyes closed. They tickle.

Disappointments o’ the Year:

Soen // ~~Imperial~~ Memorial – Let me level with you, Lotus is a fantastic album and the pinnacle of a career for Soen, a band that has grown further away from the flourishes that make their music interesting. Lush production? Humming Hammond overlays? Joel Ekelöf spreading sweet nothings over the course of an urgent and chunky build? Who needs any of that when you can write worse choruses over the same riff and people continue to latch onto it. Soen almost remembers their strengths (“Fortress,”5 “Tragedian,” “Vitals”), and it is admirable that Ekelöf tries to stretch his wings as a grittier vocalist while maintaining his Eurovision aspirations. But with a direction that’s even less dynamic than the uncharacteristically narrow master that Memorial shows, I’ve got little to reason believe that this is a direction that Soen should continue. Not good. Not good at all.

Einar Solberg // 16 – After Aphelion wiped away the hope I had left for Leprous, I looked to this solo outing from Mr. Solberg as a chance for him to find a way back to a good tune. It seems that it did help him reclaim a somber and less ahhAAAahhAAAaahaah character to his voice, and drummer Keli Guðjónsson (Agent Fresco, notable Leprous-like act) really helps a few bright moments shine (“Remember Me,” “Blue Light”). However, Solberg did not have to take his play at Jamiroquai (“Home”) nor include a guest rapper (also “Home”) nor include his sister (for what effect on “Where All the Twigs Broke”) nor include his brother-in-law for a growled guest spot on a trip-hoppy track (that’s Ihsahn on “Splitting the Soul”) nor give us seventy minutes of whatever you want to wrap this up as. Sadboi art pop perhaps? Skippable in any case.

Best Thing I Missed in 2022:

Polterguts // Gods Over Broken People – I haven’t heard an album this seriously fucking pissed off since Admiral Angry’s Buster, but the level of frustration here rings just a touch less sexual and frustrated—it’s defeated. The malaise that Gods captures renders itself in lyrics that spout from a voice fed on apathy and gravel: “I used to pray for my friends/I used to hurt when they hurt/I used to love without expecting any love in return” (“Skullbowl”), “I like it here at the bottom where they know me by name/I used to think I wanted out, but now I’m begging to stay” (“Buckle the Spine”), “I’m not strong enough to hold it together, but It breaks my heart to watch you struggle for air/I’m sorry I couldn’t get both of us out, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t there” (“Injury”). As harrowing as that is to read, it’s even more brutal to hear. And I suspect for those stuck in the same kind of recursive, small-town Midwest drain from which this attitude grows, this would hit even harder. One part Meshuggah, one part Chat Pile, and another part its own punished deathcore, Polterguts holds in one hand my aching heart and in another its own, stained and hollow.

Songs o’ the Year:

Why give you one when I can give you twenty-seven? Why twenty-seven? That’s my secret. Now, I’ve talked enough, go out there and enjoy some music, friends. And enjoy this photo of my dogs.

Kiwi (top) and Coconut (bottom).

Ferox

I got my own big boy list! AMG Industries: where doing an adequate job on the free work you’ve been assigned leads to opportunities for more free work. I wouldn’t have it any other way–I love this place, even if the prospect of making this list fills me with anxiety and imposter syndrome. I am generally not given to best-of lists, or year-end reflection. But we’ve got a fake job to do, so let’s get stuck in!

2023 was a weird one. It began with a case of long-ish Covid that saw me coughing uncontrollably every time I laughed, segued into a writer’s strike that shut down my industry for six months, and ended with a faint and collision between the Ferox noggin and a concrete floor. That last one put me in bed recovering for the better part of a month and seriously fucked with my workout goals. Despite all this, it was an incredible year! My family flourished, I snuck a couple of projects into production at my day job, and I had a blast writing here as much as I could. The only complaint I could possibly muster is that it’s all flying past way too quickly.

As for AMG… this is that rare place that improves the lives of all who touch it (Rodeö bands excepted). It did that for me when I lurked as a reader, and it continues to do so now that I cling to a staff position. How does a place this positive place exist? On the internet?! I’m grateful to Steel for providing real leadership at my fake job, to my fellow members of the AMG Class of ’21 for being good eggs and excellent writers, and to everyone I’ve met through a gig that makes life richer and more fun. Maybe the real 2023 was the bollocks we talked along the way.

#ish. Spirit Possession // Of the Sign… – Do you guys like Nifelheim? I sure as heckfire do, and this album that captures some of their defiant spirit stole my heart in the waning moments of 2023. The reprobates of Nifelheim aren’t the only point of departure here. Portland’s Spirit Possession is a borderline tribcore act that aims to capture the feel of an era more than the work of one particular band. Here you’ll find echoes of Bathory, Hellhammer, and Venom. Sometimes a project like this works so well that the music transcends the lack of originality baked into these sorts of things. Of the Sign… is one such album; it may well have landed in my top ten if I had had more time with it before Listurnalia.

#10. Horrendous // Ontological Mysterium – Horrendous, already on a very short list of the best metal bands so far this century, bolsters their legacy with the concise and intoxicating Ontological Mysterium. The quartet has carved out a take on progressive death metal that is entirely their own, one that is melodic, wonky, and sweeping all at once. They’ve never been more engaging than they are on Ontological Mysterium. The album wends its way through nine tracks in less than forty minutes–Ontological Mysterium defies its run time by taking you on a journey that feels epic, but releases you before fatigue sets in. Only closer “The Death Knell Ringeth,” an inexplicable dud that can scarcely walk and chew gum at the same time, keeps Ontological Mysterium from ascending to loftier heights.

#9. Wormhole // Almost Human – Wormhole’s take on brutal death metal is at once savage but cheerful, and stöopid without being remotely dumb. I am fully on board with any band that uses the low art of the slample to describe their own sound, as Wormhole does with a sunny interjection of “Tech Slam!” on the title track of their latest. The AMG staff would have you believe that it’s necessary to choose between Wormhole and Afterbirth, the band’s peer in innovative and excellent brutal death metal. That is nonsense; appreciate the Slam-aissance in all its glory, as these two remarkable outfits elevate one of metal’s least-loved subgenres to new heights.

#8. Sodomisery // Mazzaroth – Sodomisery makes life hard on themselves with an atrocious name that is way too persnickety about the respectable pursuit of sodomy. Some folks just need to play the game on difficult mode, I guess. If the hideous moniker is what it takes to spur Sodomisery to this kind of work, then the outfit should keep indulging themselves. Mazzaroth is an endlessly replayable slab of genre-bending excellence. Symphonic flourishes and well-placed clean vocals accent the band’s hybrid of black metal, death metal, and melodeath. Mazzaroth is big fun, an album that effortlessly synthesizes a cornucopia of influences into something that feels both classic and new.

#7. Xoth // Exogalactic – A late-in-the-game remaster unleashed the power of a fully operational Exogalactic. The album finds the pan-genre madlads of Xoth playing in the margins, expanding their sound here and there while defending their Party Lovecraft turf. Across eight engaging tracks, the excellent songwriting of Exogalactic is augmented by audacious technical what-the-fuck-ery. The album’s forty minutes fly past, and while Xoth’s sound might not be the revelation it was on Invasion of the Tentacube and Interdimensional Invocations, this Seattle quartet remains very much on top of their game. Play a song, any song, and joy will invade your earholes. That’s the Xoth promise, and Exogalactic delivers.

#6. Gridlink // Coronet Juniper – I could go on about the pleasures of Coronet Juniper, but chances are Dolphin Whisperer already has you cornered and is doing just that. My list buddy extolled the virtues of this grind funhouse to the point where I finally just pretended he was saying “BREEEEEEEEEEEEE” and tuned him out. Then I played the album a month or so later in the gym, and Gridlink rocketed me to a dimension of pure fun. Coronet Juniper is a grind joyride, so confident in its songwriting that the band includes a run of instrumental “karaoke versions” at the end of the album that is every bit as playable as the so-called official tracklist.

#5. Outer Heaven // Infinite Psychic Depths – Outer Heaven understands both the virtues and the confines of old-school death metal. Infinite Psychic Depths gives the subgenre a glow-up by taking us on a tour of everything that still works, while adding a few new wrinkles. The album never plays as mere pastiche; like some kind of Quentin Tarantino of death metal, Outer Heaven refreshes old tropes by building something new from a pile of familiar elements. I haven’t dug much into the high concept that underlies Infinite Psychic Depths, but that’s because I don’t need to. The music stands on its own. Already a highlight of 2023, Infinite Psychic Depths feels like one that could grow in esteem with time. It could well be underrated in my fifth slot.

#4. Tribunal // The Weight of Remembrance – Here’s one that roared out of the gate back in January and absolutely refused to cede any ground. The Weight of Remembrance runs classic doom through both an orchestral and a death metal filter. The various genre flourishes enhance the strong songwriting–“Of Creeping Moss and Crumbling Stone” is so incredible that it became a workout staple despite its plodding pace, and nearly earned a spot on this year’s Heavy Moves Heavy playlist. The highlights don’t stop there. They don’t stop until The Weight of Remembrance has run its course. The Debut o’ The Year also happens to be one of the very best albums of 2023.

#3. Warcrab // The Howling Silence – Warcrab boasts fighting spirit, sharp claws, and a crustacean shell that’s fitted for turret combat. They’re obviously game for a scrap, but–as Cherd pointed out in his review–the band doesn’t have much competition in their death-sludge niche. A relief, then, that Warcrab is anything but complacent on The Howling Silence. These seven tracks roar past, the stifling atmosphere pierced on occasion by icepick solos that showcase the Guitar Tone o’ The Year. This one was a grower for me. The Howling Silence initially did little to distinguish itself from previous slab Damned in Endless Night. But my lizard brain heard layers that my ears weren’t processing, and the album kept earning spins. Layers of excellence kept revealing themselves, and before I knew it this piece of heavy artillery blasted its way to the upper echelons of my list.

#2. Carnosus // Visions of Infinihility – This rollicking slab of tech death earned a 4.0 from me back in early February, and I do believe I sold these Swedes short by half a point. Visions of Infinihility was a mainstay of my 2023. The album remained close at hand throughout both a long strike and a stretch of vertigo-induced bedrest. If I’m not tired of it yet, I probably never will be. And what’s not to like here? Every one of the nine tracks on Visions of Infinihility stands up to heavy listening. The site’s top writer summed it up most precisely: “It doesn’t matter if you’re wearing four thousand dollar headphones or a bullet belt–Visions of Infinihility should appeal to wonks, diehards, and metalheads all across the spectrum.”

#1. Afterbirth // In But Not Of – Long Island’s Afterbirth crams an abundance of riches into a brutal death metal album that twists and transmutes as it goes. The first half of In But Not Of stays planted in the brutal death genre that Afterbirth had a hand in creating. The second departs for distant parsecs, fusing elements of post-metal, alt-rock, and even ambient music onto death metal songs. The experiments work seamlessly, and I continue to find surprises almost every time I revisit In But Not Of. “Devils With Dead Eyes,” “Autoerotic Amputation,” “In But Not Of,” and “Angels Feast on Flies” are the standout tracks–any one of the four could credibly lay claim to Song o’ The Year. Colin Marston’s production showcases and elevates the material. My favorite critic said it best: “This is music to concuss you and then heal your battered brain… [In But Of] is an album to savor and return to again and again, a companion piece to Four Dimensional Flesh that manages to equal if not surpass its predecessor.” Also: revel in that gorgeous album art by Alex Eckman-Lawn, a sci-fi Frankenstein’s monster that perfectly encapsulates the record. My top score of 2023 is an easy choice for Ferox‘s Album o’ The Year.

Honorable Mentions

- Autopsy // Ashes, Organs, Blood and Crypts– Ashes, Organs, Blood, and Crypts plays like Autopsy’s Basement Tapes, a collection of feral death metal songs that also somehow comes off as loose and ramshackle. It stands among the band’s best post-comeback work.
- Gorod // The Orb – The French masters of tech death hold serve with the predictably excellent The Orb.
- Convocation // No Dawn for the Caliginous Night – I came up with the genre tag “funereal doom” to describe Convocation’s latest to myself. The band accesses the majesty of funeral doom without the tedious repetition. It’s a potent approach that’s been honed to near-perfection on No Dawn for the Caliginous Night.
- Tomb Mold // The Enduring Spirit – The Toronto outfit pulled off a tricky shift, surprising fans of their inventive take on old-school death with this proggy slab. I sure wouldn’t have minded another Planetary Clairvoyance, but I wound up thrilled by this new direction.
- Serpent Corpse // Blood Sabbath – 2023 delivered an abundance of old-school death delights, but Montreal’s Serpent Corpse move to the head of the class with debut Blood Sabbath.
- Fabricant // Drudge to the Thicket – A trio of virtuoso musicians keep their debut album juuust barely on the “death metal” side of the prog-death divide. Drudge to the Thicket is a load of unpredictable fun from an immensely promising outfit.
- Omnicidal // The Omnicidalist – Omnicidal takes a huge leap forward with a sophomore album that injects hints of melodeath and black thrash into an already nasty cocktail. In spite of Gardenstale‘s rave, this excellent effort seemed to get lost in the 2023 shuffle. I kept it spinning all year.
- Gravesend // Gowanus Death Stomp – This second offering of urban nightmare deathgrind from Gravesend improves on Methods of Human Disposal. An album that conjures genuinely unsettling images and one that will leave its boot marks all over your body,
- Dripping Decay // Festering Grotesqueries— Another exceptional death metal debut, Festering Grotesqueries inspired an epic run of putrid imagery in Steel‘s review. These Portland knuckle-draggers are worthy of all the filthy poetry the Apeman can muster.

Song o’ the Year: Afterbirth – “In But Not Of”

Disappointment o’ the Year

Immortal // War Against All – After the improbably incredible Northern Chaos Gods, I was PUMPED for Immortal’s Second Coming of Demonaz Era. Cue the record scratch, because the follow-up is generic and pretty much just sucks through and through.

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