#ColdCell

2024-12-27

Thus Spoke and Maddog’s Top Ten(ish) of 2024

By Steel Druhm

Thus Spoke

My second AMG End-of-Year piece?! Didn’t I just get here? This is my typical reaction to life’s happenings. I’m blindsided by everything. You’ll probably notice that many of the below list entries ‘snuck up on me’ in how much I liked them, compared to everything else. The fact that we’re now halfway through the 2020s makes me feel a bit nauseous. I keep telling people I ‘just moved’ into the home I bought this year, but I’ve been in it since April. And that huge milestone—for which I feel immensely grateful and privileged to have achieved this side of 30—would have solely dominated my year were it not for two other facts: 1) I was finally diagnosed with and very recently started medication for ADHD; 2) 2024 has got to have been the strongest year of the decade so far for metal. So, time to talk about the music rather than myself.

My overoptimistic prediction that Ulcerate would release new music came true,1 and there was, in general, a particular influx of excellent material from the darker, more dissonant, and extreme sides of death and black metal. This was also the year I finally reconnected with my love of doom after a long period of lukewarm engagement. But I wouldn’t have known about half of it were it not for this gig, and the amazing people I share it with. Whether it was Dear Hollow, Kenstrosity, or Mystikus Hugebeard pinging across something they thought I might like, or a particularly potent review penned by a colleague, a commenter chipping in with some gem, or the group buzz around an album I might otherwise never have considered, there’s no better place to find and discuss metal. And speaking of community, if I ever needed a confirmation that this right here is the loveliest place on the internet, the rallying response to Ken‘s plight earlier this year from staff and readers was it.2 I couldn’t ask for better company.

I said as much last year, but I’ll probably say it every year: having this opportunity is wild and I feel so blessed. To be able to send my thoughts about music into the world where people read and consider them, that’s mad. Bumping into an AMG fan in the wild was also an affirming and heartwarming experience reminding me that there are actually real people out there who know who we are; and let me say, however enthusiastic and grateful you might be for us, the feeling is mutual. So to everyone reading this, to all the folks at AMG who make it possible for me to continually wax lyrical about stuff I love (and stuff I don’t love so much) and put up with all my overrating, to all of you: thank you. Shout out also to my list buddy Maddog, whose EOY write-up is bound to be more br00tal and much less flowery than mine, and whose in-person company I continue to have the pleasure of enjoying whenever he deigns to visit our little island up here. Oh, and thank you to the original creator and to Kenstrosity for my new avatar! I asked and you delivered. And if you actually read this far down, thank you for indulging me. But now, finally, it’s list time.

#ish. Pillar of Light // CalderaI unintentionally ended my reviewing year on a high with Pillar of Light. Or perhaps a low, if we consider mood. When a record evokes a genuine emotional response in me,3 as Caldera does, it deserves more than an Honorable Mention. So here it is. It’s one of those albums you experience that forever afterward remains tied to your particular life situation when you were first immersed, and for that reason, its longevity is increased and its impact amplified. Given how “Leaving” and “Infernal Gaze” leave me in pieces, it’s probably a good thing the misery comes down from 11 at other times. But on the next album, who knows? I’ll be ready at least.

#10. Replicant // Infinite MortalityMuch like Kenstrosity, author of the review, I have not historically been Replicant’s hugest fan. For some reason their music never stuck with me; I just didn’t get it. Infinite Mortality has been the enlightenment I needed. It’s undeniably fantastic. Brilliantly technical and ruthlessly efficient in execution, it manages to also be ridiculously groovy in a way that you wouldn’t expect from this flavor of extreme death metal. Suited, evidently, to desk sessions and gym sessions alike, given the range of play it got from me since its release, its balance of skronk and style proved why I should, long ago, have been paying attention to Replicant. Ken himself struggled to find a negative and so do I. Even interlude “SCN9A” is great, especially as it leads into monster “Pain Enduring.” Only the superlative strength of other contenders causes this to fall so low on the list.

#9. ColdCell // Age of UnreasonIn a rare case of me underrating something, my review of Age of Unreason did not quite do justice to its strength. Not only have I revisited it often, but I have of late been struck ever deeper by its profundity. The honest, vulnerable lamentations on inequality (“Solidarity or Solitude”), hatred (“Discord”), and human selfishness (“Dead to the World”) go far beyond a jaded misanthropy and strike a real chord. In wrapping this up in an insidiously simple package of compelling, devastating black metal with a distinctive voice, ColdCell have made, I now recognize, a true masterpiece. Brutal in its own way, and beautiful in many more, this is a record I hardly realized had made such a strong impact on me until I saw just how many times I’d spun it. This year may have seen black metal that goes harder, or with more powerful atmospheres, but none that are as memorable as Age of Unreason.

#8. Spectral Voice // Sparagmos – What a behemoth. It’s hard to believe that—just for a little while—Sparagmos slipped my mind many months after its February release. Relistening brought it all back into horrifying clarity. This record throws a veil over the sun, stares at you with unseeing, ecstatic eyes of Dionysian worship, and forces you into terrified awe. I’m still blown away by how crushingly heavy and immersive it is; how it still manages to blindside me with sudden turns from ominous crawling into chaotic, chthonic tremolos and clustered, hideous vocals. A masterclass in patient, predatory ambush. Nothing else this year was like it, which is partially why I’ve had to return so often to its dark embrace. Every nightmarish track was at some point in the runnings for the Song of the Year playlist. In the end, only one could make it, and it is, as I said in my review, “as inexorable as death.”

#7. Hamferð // Men Guðs hond er sterk – I’m surprised as well. Before Men Guðs hond er sterk, I had never laid ears on Hamferð and I was quite stunned to find how instantly I loved them. It’s not often an album by a band you’d previously never spent time with claims a spot on your year-end list after one listen, but this was one of those rare occasions. Something about the sorrowful, yet also soaring, melodies delivered through the interplays of resonant chords and gentle plucks, and between caustic growls and clear, ardent cleans just transports me. I feel the solemnity, the fear, and the grief in alternately forceful and graceful heaviness thanks to these intricately woven compositions and ardent performances that make the fact the lyrics are all in Faroese completely irrelevant. And Hamferð cover breadth with such ease, the slowly rolling wave of doom rising with tremolos into new intensity; and yet still controlled, still patient. The closer and it’s sample used to bother me, but I’m long past that now. In short, as the Angry Metal Guy himself said, “the record’s flow is impeccable,” and “the writing is subtle but addictive”. He’s not kidding about that last part, I really can’t stop listening to it.

#6. Föhn // Condescending I was not prepared for what Condescending would do to me. Like any funeral doom worth its salt, it’s massive, but its presence is not smothering, it does not suffocate. Instead, it dampens the sound of anything else, so that the lugubrious chords, vocals, and fraught, lamenting refrains reverberate inside your mind, alone. This presence is redoubled by the heart-rending devastation of the compositions it centers—lyrically and musically. Bleakly beautiful, crushing doom in all its low, slow, cavernous hell leads you into an almost blissful moroseness, just in time for the veil to tear and your spirit to crumble as haunting melodies spill in from impossibly delicate sources of saxophone, synth, or ringing strings. Condescending will not leave my mind, and as broken and misty-eyed as these songs make me—”A Day After” and “Persona” especially—I’ll keep returning to experience it again and again. Maybe I can only speak for myself; maybe you’re sensing a theme wherein I like albums that make me feel sad. Whatever the case, Föhn took my breath away, and I don’t want it back.

#5. Cave Sermon // Divine Laughter It’s pretty irresponsible of me to put this in the list at all, let alone in this position, considering how late in the day I discovered it. But I’m not really known for being ‘responsible’ around these parts, so, what the hell. What some might pigeonhole as just wonky death metal, or blackened post-hardcore—or even post-metal, as Metal Archives confusingly stamp it—is really much more complex, deep, and unique. Gripping and strange, in a way that struck me on my very first listen, Divine Laughter is responsible for me going from never having heard of Cave Sermon to being an ardent fan in one afternoon. Every listen gives me my new favorite part and uncovers more and more of its treasures. Savage and beautiful and with unnervingly easy flow, large parts of it are total perfection (“Liquid Gol, “The Paint of An Invader”). I cannot get enough. It’s so good, actually, that it’s made me feel a bit anxious about how much I’ve still missed this year, though I am very glad that this made it to my ears, even at the 11th hour. Divine Laughter is simply one of the greatest things I’ve heard in 2024, and it’s a crime that more people aren’t talking about it.

#4. Devenial Verdict // Blessing of DespairI was waiting for Blessing of Despair since January, and as it always is with things we have high expectations for, part of me was preparing for disappointment. That preparation proved unnecessary once I finally got my hands on this in the Autumn. Devenial Verdict delivered. This time, they amped up all their unique little idiosyncrasies that made me fall in love with Ash Blind, and added a criminally heavy helping of groove. This thing is atmospheric and punchy, providing soundscapes that are just as haunting and mysterious(TM) as they are stomping and cutthroat. Either way, these riffs will make you shiver. “Garden of Eyes”! “Solus”! Ahhhh! Even “Counting Silence” and “A Curse Made Flesh,” which I initially dismissed as a little understated, have this delicious melancholic presence I just want to be immersed in 24/7. Devenial Verdict’s slick mixture of mournful melody and menacing, barked growls; neck-snapping flicks of cymbal, and those resonant, aggressive chord progressions make for—almost—my favorite take on death metal that exists. The sole reason Blessing of Despair wasn’t my most-played album of 2024 is that I only started in September.4

#3. Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions – Back in 2017 or so, I was struck by what at the time I considered the most gorgeous opening guitar on any song ever. It was “…Of Solitary Ramblings,” the first track on Selbst’s self-titled debut.5 From that day forward I was enamoured. The undercurrents of lamenting melodrama and a black metal interwoven with a distinctive style of flowing, weeping strums continue to make Selbst very special. But if I had thought that their depths of emotional poignancy and stirring, multi-layered compositions had been reached, Despondency Chord Progressions showed they had not. Cleans that some wrote off as unsavory, rather bring—in my opinion—a new vulnerability, and their rawness compounds the pathos of already intensely cathartic compositions. The album’s title is, as I noted, an apt descriptor for the musical themes, but really undersells the cry of grief and despair that erupts from the music with every shuddering, tremolo-shaken, surge and every plaintive, somber quietude. I stand by what I said back in April, that “[t]his is black metal at its most stirring, entrancingly beautiful, and existentially affecting.” The sheer magnitude of its impassioned peaks (“Third World Wretchedness,” “Between Seclusion and Obsession”) and the sting of its humanity (“When true Loneliness is Experienced,” “Chant of Self Confrontation”) are like nothing else in the genre.

#2. Amiensus // Reclamation [Parts 1 & 2] – Take it up in the comments if you think this is cheating; Reclamation is one work in my eyes. And what a masterpiece. Each part a gorgeous, immersive side of one breathtaking journey that is best experienced together. I remain stunned by Amiensus’ mastery of musical storytelling through a flowing, intricate soundscape—at turns triumphant (“Vermillion Fog of War,” “Sólfarið”), sorrowful (“Reverie,” “Leprosarium”), and always stirring. Everything about Reclamation is graceful, which is another part of its magic because it’s not as though Amiensus left the black metal behind. Rather they seem to have found the deepest essence of the genre’s unique propensity for raw emotional expression, and moulded its elements into what is hands-down the most beautiful thing I’ve heard at least this year. It is, as I noted in my write-up of Part 1, a distillation of pure joy, and uplifting no matter how wistful (“Sun and Moon”), or suffused with bittersweet longing (“A Consciousness Throughout Time,” “Acquiescence”). And with so much of it—albeit, a time that flashes by with thrilling speed—it’s impossible not to get lost in. “Sun and Moon” was so close to being my favorite song of 2024, and in another year, it would have been. For that matter, in another year Reclamation itself would have claimed the top spot on this list.

#1. Ulcerate // Cutting the Throat of God – What else could it have been? I worry that by this point I may have used up all of the words that are possible to describe this pinnacle of excellence. In reality, though, I’m not sure I even have the words to express it in the first place, not for lack of trying. Ulcerate have long been a behemoth in their realm within the larger world of death metal, but while distinctive, they have never settled, continually carving up the template of dissonance with varyingly-sized blades of atmosphere and melody, moving between their most barbed and chaotic (Everything is Fire) to their most somber and moody (The Destroyers of All) in just one album. Later Shrines of Paralysis—my former favorite—saw a turn back towards the urgency and aggression, but with this new harmonic undercurrent in place. With hindsight, I can see now that the deeply atmospheric, disquieting Stare into Death and Be Still marked a turning point, paving the ground for what could be their magnum opus. Distilling the tension and the turmoil, into tidal forces of incredible rhythm, and dark, brilliant melody, with Cutting the Throat of God, Ulcerate reach transcendence. Dire (“The Dawn is Hollow”), deadly (“Transfiguration in and Out of Worlds”), devastating (“To See Death Just Once,” “Cutting the Throat of God”). Its intricacies only continue to reveal themselves to me; helped, no doubt, by a phenomenal live performance that bewitched me anew this October. I had to upgrade this album’s score to Iconic, because it is. This is atmospheric death metal perfected, and if genre-mates weren’t already looking in Ulcerate’s direction, there’s hardly any choice now. Cutting the Throat of God represents, in the greatest form, “the savagery, authenticity, and more recently, beauty that makes this icon of the dissonant death metal world who they are.”

Honorable Mentions:

Gaerea // Coma – Despite having calmed down considerably from my previous Gaerea overhype, there’s no denying that they’ve really got something. With a new vocalist, they retain their distinctively melodramatic and intense style, while incorporating a little more vulnerability via some genuinely really lovely cleans. A great record that just wasn’t great enough for the ridiculously high standard set by this year’s fare.

Eye Eater // Alienate – I am immensely grateful for Dolphin Whisperer for bringing this to my attention. Much of this album feels like it was written specifically for me, because it uses pretty much all of my favorite things in metal. It’s atmospheric and dissonant, like Ulcerate and others in that vein; it’s kind of post-death-y, and replete with minor melodies, and a particular kind of urgency my brain associates with specific kinds of ‘-core’. I just didn’t get quite enough time with it.

Songs of the Year

“To See Death Just Once” – Ulcerate

“Sun and Moon” – Amiensus

“Solus” – Devenial Verdict

“Terminal” – Vorga

“Third World Wretchedness” – Selbst

“The Paint of an Invader” – Cave Sermon

“A Day After” – Föhn

“Ábær” – Hamferð

“Inversion” – Endonomos

“Death’s Knell Rings in Eternity” – Spectral Voice

“Leaving” – Pillar of Light

Maddog

It’s been a weird year, and this is a weird list. Last December, I lamented the emotional hollowness of 2023’s metal output. If anything, 2024 fell even flatter. My most anticipated heavyweights were competent but inconsistent (Alcest, Julie Christmas), and few albums moved me. Unfazed, death metal picked up the slack and made this year a pleasure. Led by a flurry of excellent releases from genre titans, 2024 helped rekindle my love for cantankerous death metal.

Even so, the brutality of 2024’s output shocked me. Despite my worship of Suffocation and Dying Fetus, most brutal death metal releases of the last decade haven’t gripped me. But 2024 pulled me onto the brutal train with creativity and pizzazz. Both the techy and the knuckle-dragging corners of that subgenre thrived, including several artists that didn’t make my list (like Gigan, Iniquitous Savagery, and Nile). After tending toward more emotive music and other poseur nonsense in recent years, I took a long jump back in 2024.

As if that wasn’t enough, this was a banner year for dissonance. That’s a sentence I never expected to type; even dissonant death metal’s classics tend to be hit-or-miss with me. In 2024, the skronk finally broke through, aided by many avant-garde bands drifting toward a more accessible sound. This year’s screechy screeds were cogent enough to grab my arm and unhinged enough to rip it out of its socket. It’s been a jarring but eye-opening year.

This comment from the Brodequin review doubles as a summary of my 2024 music picks:

I wonder if I, we, they or all of us have a screw loose.

Heading into 2024, I craved immersive soundscapes and misty eyes. Instead, I was met with discordant gurgling. I didn’t expect it, but I don’t regret it.

#ish. Hypoxia // DefianceDefiance never gets old. This old-school death metal behemoth has been around for ten months and hails from a subgenre that’s infamous for monotony. And yet, like Monstrosity’s best work, it blossoms on every spin. Defiance sports 2024’s fiercest harsh vocal performance, and riffwork so potent that it could revive the Selbst baby. I don’t have anything fancy to add, so I won’t try. Defiance is a rare death metal record that’s simple, thrilling, and well-written.

#10. Dawn Treader // Bloom & Decay – The thought sometimes crosses my mind: Why does atmospheric black metal even exist? The musical possibilities abound; who would pay $8 for tremolo scales recorded in a rest stop bathroom? Records like Bloom & Decay jolt me out of my pretension. Dawn Treader’s underground gem is both a product and a peddler of overpowering emotion. Ross Connell unleashes a tirade against violence and oppression using grief-stricken guitar melodies. On the flip side, Bloom & Decay’s heavy use of major keys—my second biggest fear—blurs the line between despair and tentative hope. Most impressive is the album’s flow, which Itchymenace described better than I ever could: “The majority of Bloom & Decay is instrumental, but you hardly notice because the music has such a storytelling quality.” Bloom & Decay’s 53-minute chokehold on my heart is ineffable but unyielding.

#9. Kanonenfieber // Die Urkatastrophe – Germany’s nameless Noise has built up a remarkable CV – 7 years, 3 bands, 8 albums. While I’ve often enjoyed his music, I never fell under his spell. Die Urkatastrophe was the last straw. A pacifist tirade told through first-person WWI vignettes, Die Urkatastrophe depicts nationalist violence and its aftermath. Armed with a sharp-edged blackened death foundation and surging chorus melodies, Kanonenfieber provides rewarding fodder even for unfeeling riff addicts. However, its excellence lies in its raw emotion. Both Noise’s lyrics and his songwriting embrace a “show, don’t tell” approach that brings the album to life. As the narrator’s cavalry offensive meets with a hilltop ambush in “Gott mit der Kavallerie,” Kanonenfieber’s upbeat riffs transform into a sudden dirge followed by frantic black metal. The epic “Waffenbrüder” evokes the wide-eyed optimism of childhood friends, the pride of enlisting, the tragedy of losing a companion, and the regrets of a life wasted. Die Urkatastrophe is both a transformative album and exemplary storytelling.

#8. Defeated Sanity // Chronicles of LunacyChronicles of Lunacy is essential listening for any fans of extreme metal. Its greatest triumph is its fine mix of Defeated Sanity’s signature ingredients. Chronicles excels as pure brutal death metal through punishing caveman riffs and a tasteful dose of slam. Vaughn Stoffey’s guitars elevate this to an art form using wily fretboard acrobatics and seamless jazzy breaks. Led by kit-meister Lille Gruber, Defeated Sanity’s off-kilter rhythms and heavy syncopation miraculously aid the album’s staying power rather than hindering it. Put simply, Chronicles of Lunacy is 2024’s most vivid reminder of why I love death metal. I love its unforgiving brutality; I love its dazzling technicality; I love its groove; I love its genre-bending creative expression; I love its rhythmic feats of strength; I love its intellect; I love its idiocy. In other words, I love Defeated Sanity.

#7. Ulcerate // Cutting the Throat of God – It’s a match made in heaven: Cutting the Throat of God is Ulcerate for dummies, and I’m a dummy. Ulcerate continues to march toward more accessible ground, leaving behind the merciless dissonance of Everything is Fire. Powerful melodic themes peek through the chaos and take time to shine, offering both souvenirs and footholds. Despite Cutting’s lowbrow appeal, Ulcerate’s inimitable signature remains. Unease pervades the record, and Ulcerate’s cohesive songwriting transforms it from a concept to an emotion. In Thus Spoke’s words, Jamie Saint Merat’s drums are “more body than skeleton,” using their distinctive start-stop style to guide the mood. The album’s climaxes alone justify a purchase, as hypnotic melodies and frenzied dissonance coalesce into a tsunami. In short, Cutting the Throat of God captured both my brain and my heart.

#6. Hippotraktor // Stasis – I first heard about Belgium’s Hippotraktor from an insistent coworker, long before I discovered GardensTale’s well-worded underrating. Psychonaut meets Karnivool meets The Ocean meets Meshuggah in this pounding, beautiful prog/post adventure. Stasis’ hard-won achievement is that it navigates through disparate ideas with fluidity and flair. Psychonaut-drenched sludge forms a jagged backbone that sways between meditative and explosive. Meanwhile, Hippotraktor’s mastery of melody catapults them into genre royalty. “Stasis” uses this superpower for peaceful guitar jams, “Echoes” uses it for soaring As I Lay Dying vocal lines, and “The Reckoning” uses it for haunting continuity across its eight minutes. The djenty interdjections are well-written and screwed in tight, packing a punch even for listeners with severe djent allerdjies. Stasis is a bold statement from a new band, and it’s jostled up my list posthaste.

#5. Hell:on // ShamanHell:on’s folk-infused take on death metal stands apart. Shaman’s diverse influences complement each other and flourish in isolation. Phrygian themes, throat singing, and driving sitars steer the album. But despite Shaman’s folk roots, it’s an excellent slab of death metal. Hell:on’s riffs recall the threatening leviathans of Nile’s Annihilation of the Wicked, while the narrative song structures feel like a roided-out Aeternam. Even among such storied company, Shaman’s melodies stand out. Over the record’s runtime, Hell:on’s guitars shred, soar, flail, and wallop, evolving smoothly and dragging the listener along. As icing on the cake, Holdeneye’s review of Shaman features the most sobering and most badass introductory story of 2024. Hell:on demanded my attention and earned it.

#4. Pyrrhon // Exhaust – I started warming up to Exhaust on my first listen, but it took a while to diagnose why. Pyrrhon’s earlier releases didn’t click with me, but Exhaust is a trailblazer and a paradox. Pyrrhon rewrites the textbook on riffs, displaying a mastery of groove even in their wildest moments. And the noisier cuts, which remind me most of Pink Floyd’s The Piper at the Gates of Dawn and The Velvet Underground, are evocative narratives rather than lifeless technical exercises. The longer pieces intersperse hypnotic buildups with furious cacophony (“Out of Gas”), while the shorter tracks are simultaneously caustic and infectious. With a thick leading bass performance and a master that highlights every detail of the drums, Exhaust grows on me with every spin. Pyrrhon’s off-the-deep-end brand of experimental death metal isn’t my usual fare, but I can’t avert my ears this time. Both mellifluous and disgusting, both rifftastic and immersive, Exhaust is singular.

#3. Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions – My first toe dip into Selbst made a lasting impression. Shortly after Despondency Chord Progressions came out, I spun it at the office. In the final minute of the opener “La Encarnación de Todos los Miedos,” I felt the involuntary tears start to flow, and I had to nuke the music and run to the bathroom to avoid worrying my desk neighbor. This embarrassing first encounter perfectly encapsulates the album. While it’s “merely” black metal, its gorgeous melodies and shrilling tremolos showcase the genre at its finest. Alternating between meditative dirges and howling chords, Selbst conveys both muffled sobs and hysterical bawling. Selbst’s fluid compositions captivated me at once and dug their claws even deeper over the ensuing months. The most heart-rending record of 2024, Despondency Chord Progressions showcases the paralyzing power of music.

#2. Noxis // Violence Inherent in the SystemNoxis’ debut is a remarkable blend of old and new. The album’s stomping riffs and popping snare drum root it in 1990s brutal death metal. Conversely, its exuberantly grimy bass tone, its proggy rhythms, and its surprise woodwind extravaganza feel unabashedly modern. Much like last year’s Ohio death metal highlight, Violence Inherent in the System succeeds by ripping throughout, whether with a vile Dying Fetus riff or with an adventurous bass melody. Although this is the longest record in my top five, its 46 minutes fly by. Boasting momentum that would make Newton blush, Noxis keeps the energy high from the barnburner “Skullcrushing Defilement” to the proggy old-school “Emanations of the Sick.” After six months of scrutinizing and adoring Violence, I still can’t fathom that this is a debut album.

#1. Wormed // Omegon – I’ve already said my piece on this, and nothing has changed. Omegon feels as thrilling, as alien, as robotic, and as human as it did in July. In a year where brutality and dissonance thrived, Wormed maxed out both dimensions. Omegon is at once a painstakingly crafted work of art, an all-consuming atmosphere, and 2024’s punchiest death metal record.

Honorable Mentions:

  • Oxygen Destroyer // Guardian of the UniverseRedefining Darkness strikes again. Oxygen Destroyer’s latest death-thrash opus is a concise half hour of exhilarating riffs. The album sounds one track, but I don’t care; it gains steam as it progresses, and it lodges deeper on every listen. There’s no excuse for missing this.
  • Brodequin // Harbinger of Woe – Despite its morose title, Harbinger of Woe is straightforward and riotous. Brodequin has honed a sleek archetype of brutal death metal, far from the likes of Wormed. It doesn’t aim to innovate; it just aims for high impact. It succeeds.
  • Kryptos // Decimator – India’s heavy metal kings dealt me an irreplaceable shot of adrenaline. Decimator is Kryptos’ most melodically inspired work to date, an absolute scorcher, and the most viscerally satisfying production job of 2024.
  • Necrowretch // Swords of Dajjal – Somehow, despite competition from In Aphelion and Necrophobic themselves, Necrowretch churned out the best Necrophobic album of 2024.

Songs o’ the Year:

  1. Julie Christmas – “The Lighthouse”
  2. Hippotraktor – “The Reckoning”
  3. Kanonenfieber – “Waffenbrüder”
  4. Hypoxia – “Scorched and Skinned”
  5. Kryptos – “Fall to the Spectre’s Gaze”
  6. Wormed – “Protogod”
  7. Alcest – “Améthyste”
  8. Defeated Sanity – “Heredity Violated”
  9. Andy Gillion – “Acceptance”
  10. Selbst – “La Encarnación de Todos los Miedos”
  11. Pyrrhon – “Out of Gas”
  12. Ulcerate – “Cutting the Throat of God”
  13. Noxis – “Abstemious, Pious Writ of Life”
  14. Keygen Church – “La Chiave del mio Amor”

#2024 #Amiensus #BlogPost #Brodequin #CaveSermon #ColdCell #DawnTreader #DefeatedSanity #DevenialVerdict #EyeEater #Föhn #Gaerea #Hamferð #HellOn #Hippotraktor #Hypoxia #Kanonenfeiber #Kryptos #Necrowretch #Noxis #OxygenDestroyer #PillarOfLight #Pyrrhon #Replicant #Selbst #SpectralVoice #ThusSpokeAndMaddogSTopTenIshOf2024 #Ulcerate #Wormed

2024-12-19

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

2024-08-12

Hope And Failure by ColdCell for @HailsandAles' #BlackMetalMonday 🖤🔥

The MV on invidious/youtube is here:
invidious.jing.rocks/watch?v=C
youtu.be/CscKa_MM6v8

The full album it's from, Age Of Unreason, is on bandcamp here:
cold-cell.bandcamp.com/album/a

#Music #Metal #BlackMetal #ColdCell

2024-07-25

ColdCell – Age of Unreason Review

By Thus Spoke

Sometimes an album’s artwork is just perfect. The art for ColdCell’s Age of Unreason is one such example. A man—his state of undress suggesting hermitude, a rejection of civilisation, or perhaps just haste—running across a landscape littered with skulls whose faces are frozen in grotesque masks, a burning sun dominating the scene, and everything save that rag drained of all colour. Escape, and freedom from modern society come instantly to mind; or perhaps it is our protagonist who is the barbarian—uncivilised, and literally stepping on others in pursuit of his own goal. Whichever interpretation one chooses, they fit equally well, as ColdCell “venture deeper into social abysses and explore the (un)reason of being.” It is not misanthropy, but a lament over humankind’s discordant, destructive ways, and apathy towards the suffering of others that characterises this album. And it pairs quite magnificently with ColdCell’s own brand of eerie black metal.

ColdCell don’t fix what isn’t broken, their black metal remains imbued with layers of drawling melancholic melodies that pleasingly blunt the serrated edge of harsh vocals and vitriolic tremolo. Having the drummer of Schammasch in their midst, it’s perhaps no coincidence that they have historically sounded a little like a less long-winded iteration of that band, while in terms of delivery coming close to Dymna Lotva. Make no mistake, however, they are a unique force all of their own. Misanthropic nihilism has always been the characteristic core of their music, and this comes through both in these undulating waves of sinister, desperate refrains, but equally through vocals that are not only barbed and bleeding with pathos, but also thoughtful and articulate. And ColdCell seem to be following their own conceptual and musical train of thought to its next logical step. Whereas prior album The Greater Evil felt like a cry of anguish and rage, Age of Unreason trades in something closer to apathy, dialling down on the humming atmospheres in exchange for a more balanced blend of ambient and progressive that trades some beauty for brute force, but keeps a strong emotional heart.

Because of this new approach, Age of Unreason strikes with a little more immediacy than its predecessor, whilst retaining a signature urgent atmosphere. The band have a knack for laying down drama in deceptively few strokes, keeping it at a constant state of urgency, without breaching the boundary of overwrought, and thus creating endless, shivery tension. Every track builds seamlessly, and there’s something undeniable about the endlessly circling, driving rhythm, the interplay between a dragging chord or a hanging note and the flutters of rollovers (“Left,” “Meaningless,” “Discord”), the muted flurry of riffs (“Hope and Failure”) and the pulse of ambience. Rushes of buzzing tremolo veiled in warm, electric smoke draw out the refrain into an adrenaline-fuelled charge (“Hope and Failure,” “Sink our Souls”), bridge the gap between a line-ending howl of a lyric (“Left,” “Discord”), or stalk upwards before exploding (“Meaningless”). Amplifying the pathos is the clearest vocal delivery of ColdCell’s career, making for some deliciously morbid moments (One thing in life is certain: that we are all going to die, eventually – “Hope and Failure” ), as well as pure thrilling ones where the album name (“Left” ) or song title (“Discord”) are belted out. All happening as percussion slips away; or a crawl turns to a stampede or the instrumentation erupts into a frenzy of panicked, fluttering black metal.

The record’s particular flavour of despondency emanates even through the very tone of the guitars, and the yearning key of minor themes that span each song, carrying a common thread. Just as in previous albums, this dour sentiment lends furious and atmospheric passages alike a solemnity, tinged with a discomfiting twist when a line slips into dissonance just for a moment (“Meaningless,” “Sink our Souls”). Despite this, Age of Unreason feels a little shallower, musically anyway than that which came before. It cleaves faster to the mind, but its wounds it leaves are less deep, certainly, at least, than The Greater Evil. While symptomatic of the record’s bleak concept, and coming with the benefit of more immediately striking compositions and stickier refrains, it feels, however slightly, like a kind of step down. This is no fault in production—the master is perfectly clear—but rather a case of the wails being less agonised, the climaxes less soul-rending, the songs reaching just a little less far.

Let not the above cloud your judgement; Age of Unreason is a very good record. In a world where black metal is so easily a regurgitation of a tired formula, or pleasant vibey-ness on the atmospheric end, ColdCell prove, again, that they stand out. Intriguing, compelling, and layered, it belongs in the upper echelons of modern extreme music, and deserves—and will easily get—many reslistens.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 26th, 2024

#2024 #35 #AgeOfUncreason #AOPRecords #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #ColdCell #DymnaLotva #Jul24 #MelodicBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #Schammasch #SwissMetal

Les Acteurs de l'Ombreladloprods@mamot.fr
2021-04-27

Listen to the new album of the #SwissGerman band #ColdCell on #Bandcamp ➡️ ladlo.bandcamp.com/album/the-g

You can order 'The Greater Evil" here ➡️ lesacteursdelombre.net/product

The album is also part of our Coffret des Ombres of April with a patch and Grave Circles' album 'Tome II' ➡️ coffret.lesacteursdelombre.net

Artwork and design by Marcel Szerdahelyi and Pascal Brun.

#ladlo #blackmetal #switzerland #suisse

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