Call to Action #Feb24: Protest at Congressman Tom McClintock's Modesto Office, February 24th at 10 am “Nobody elected Musk” #3E #USprotests
#Feb24
Stuck in the Filter: February 2024’s Angry Misses
By Angry Metal Guy
Ah yes, February. Wait, what? It’s almost MAY!!! Who approved this two-months-late bullshit?
Oh… right, that would be me. Shit.
Well, you know, sometimes life gets in the fucking way, you know? It’s been rough days, and I know I’m not the only one struggling. With 2024 on such a rocky start, it should come as no surprise that we grasp desperately for media to help us escape and find solace in the art of others. Unfortunately for my Filter minions, they don’t get to escape from the mire and muck of the neglected filtration system from which we find what could be generously described as “art.”
Undeterred, we soldier on. And as we do, we find those nuggets of goodness-but-just-shy-of-greatness which help us survive one more day in this unforgiving world. May you find something in these selections that helps you survive, too!
Kenstrosity’s Murdery Deathkillers
Aesthetic // An Enigmatic Creation [February 16th, 2024 – Self Release]
Spanish melodic death metal troupe Aesthetic have been kicking since 2000, but the aptly named An Enigmatic Creation is only their second LP. This record is one strange beast, because for almost anybody with working ears, myself included (ostensibly), it’s almost unlistenable. Entirely the result of a production that makes the album sound like it was recorded with copper instruments inside an oversized tin can, An Enigmatic Creation tests the boundaries of human enjoyment by way of unforgivably boomy drums and guitars, far too forward vocals, and a snare tone that for all intents and purposes is the equivalent of smacking the lid of an aluminum trash can with your palm. However, with the exception of one cringe-worthy, spoken-word travesty entitled “A Strange Encounter,” every song offered here is a straight-up banger. Vivacious Bal-Sagoth/Kull riffing meets Brymir‘s adventurous spirit, a tidal wave of blackened tremolos, and a chorus of melodious bells, all filtered through a nautical-sounding aesthetic reminiscent of Sulphur Aeon’s Gateway to the Antisphere. Songs like the titular opener, “Vanishing Memories,” “Flashes of Clarity,” and “This Neverending Nightmare” prove that Aesthetic know how to write killer tunes with tons of variety and myriad points of interest. It’s a shame An Enigmatic Creation’s bewildering production almost ruins it, but the artistry behind these compositions leaves me stunned and thirsty for more.
Volucrine // ETNA [February 16th, 2024 – Inverse Records]
Finnish progressive death metal group Volucrine caught me by surprise this year. If I remember correctly, I first encountered third album ETNA while scrolling my Bandcamp feed, attracted by its unique and captivating cover art. A fellow Discordian then reminded me of it in passing, leading me to spin it almost nonstop for an entire day. Progressive death metal with potentially divisive and idiosyncratic vocals lands Volucrine in the same camp as bands like The Odious and Omnivortex circa Diagrams of Consciousness, rounded out with a gentle twist of Coheed and Cambria’s bright earnestness (“Old Friend”). Fortunately, Volucrine’s songwriting flexibility helps ETNA stand out. Early hits like the thrashy “Riptide,” the In Mourning-esque “Combatant,” and “Scarred Earth” function successfully as an impressive portfolio of Volucrine’s talent and skill. While this means ETNA’s first half contains much variety, it compromises cohesion to meet that quota. However, the back half, featuring killers like “Bloodsport,” “Godsized,” and “Escapist,” prioritizes continuity above all else. An interesting strategy, honing in on developing steady and consistent momentum in the back allows ETNA’s forty-seven minutes to feel more like an even forty, thereby making revisits effortless. ETNA’s unorthodox packaging, combined with Volucrine’s twisting and unpredictable songwriting, results in one seriously creative, interesting, and entertaining record!
Atoll // Inhuman Implants [February 23rd, 2024 – Unique Leader Records]
Phoenix, Arizona five-banger1 Atoll chug along at a brisk pace, releasing new LP’s with remarkable velocity over the course of their short decade of existence so far. Clocking in for its shift as Mambo Album No. 5, Inhuman Implants is yet another relentlessly brutal, slamming death metal assault. Doing absolutely goddamn nothing differently compared to anything else in their discography, this record will beat you to within an inch of your life, infect you with virulently memorable slams, and then leave your bruised and battered body in the gutter (“Autonomic Autosarcophagy,” “Vomit Altar,” “Missionary Opposition”). Chunky rhythms (“Berdella of Blood,” “Primordial Rage”) and swaggering beatdowns (“Husks”) allow this record to retain a notably smooth momentum from start to finish, which in turns makes this respectably tight twenty-nine minutes instantly replayable. But of course, this wouldn’t be a slam record without slamples, and Atoll deliver here as well. Album highlight “Gay for God” earns its highlight status in part due to it’s incredible It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia to South Park to It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia-again triple-slample that I’ve got officially penned in my handy-dandy notebook as a… [checks notes]… certified banger. If you should need any further information on Inhuman Implants, you may send your request to my boot on its trajectory to your curb-kissing jaw.
Tales From the Garden
Monkey3 // Welcome to the Machine [February 23rd, 2024 – Napalm Records]
Monkey3 has been around a while. Over 20 years on the market, with a discography running 7 studio albums deep today, the Swiss quartet’s impact has remained modest. Listening to Welcome to the Machine, I have to wonder why. The market for instrumental bands is a bit limited, granted, but not many bands can strike the balance between free-form space rock jams and colossal tidal wave post-metal riffs this well. The slow build on the first half of “Rackman” is superb, growing in gravity as it collects orbital detritus while holding fast to a solid central core, but the second half shifts gears and sounds like it could dual as a soundtrack for Blade Runner or Cyberpunk 2077. If there was any doubt the album title referred to Pink Floyd, the opening stretch for “Collapse” contains some clever, tasteful nods to “Time,” and the incredible wealth of solos strewn across the running time draws from Gilmour and contemporaries alike. It takes a lot to get me invested in a guitar solo these days, but Monkey3 shows incredible expertise at keeping solos interesting through great performances and captivating songwriting. An all-around masterclass at instrumental space-rock, every prog fan owes themselves a spin of Welcome to the Machine.
Dolphin Whisperer’s Twelve-Step Tee Off
Crippling Alcoholism // With Love from a Padded Room [February 29th, 2024 – Self Release]
If a song by the forcefully titled Crippling Alcoholism popped into a playlist when you weren’t looking, its jangly post-rock leads, melancholic refrains, and rock steady rhythms may not register right away as the air-sucking void that lurks about the unpredictable turns throughout With Love from a Padded Room. Its title serves a snippet of the album’s theme: the reimagining of a prisoner’s story as told from solitary confinement. Though a few tracks feature the back and forth of a distant guest vocalist, a majority of this hour’s worth of snarling, pitch-shifted, starkly-reverbed, and dead-faced diatribes feature as an unkempt solo breakdown to maintain the unsettling mood. Stylistically a melange of spearing-synth depressive rock (“Otessa,” “Rough Sleepers”), modern Murder Ballads goth shuffles (“Evil Has a Babyface,” “Sav”), and metal-fringed left-field swings (“Red Looks Good on Him,” “Mob Dad”), With Love avoids striking twice in the same lane to give each character its own space to fester and boil over. And, if you listen with just a little bit of attention, you can make out how truly horrifying Crippling Alcoholism has crafted these vignettes. Whether you come for the music and stay for the macabre or latch onto to the bloody details and nightmare fuel cover despite this hard-to-tag adventure straying away from the comfort of riffs and solos, Crippling Alcoholism can find a powerful hold on your musical journey if you let it. Pairs well with meth., King Woman, Sunrise Patriot Motion, and extended dissociation.2.
Dear Hollow’s Blackened Booty
Nocturnal Sorcery // Captive in the Breath of Life [February 9th, 2024 – KVLT Records]
From the cover to the moniker to the record label, you can probably guess what Nocturnal Sorcery sounds like. Captive in the Breath of Life, the Finnish trio’s second full-length since 2011, offers the bounty of blackened arts in nearly the exact form that you expect it sound like. Cold and raw tremolo, manic shrieks, and blastbeats are all unholy partakers in this trinity of second-wave worship, but thanks to formidable composition, powerful performances, and a willingness to focus on what they can control, Captive in the Breath of Life is everything you love (or hate) about traditionalist black metal. While Nocturnal Sorcery is bloated in a few too many interlude tracks and fluff over its forty-nine-minute length, tracks like “Oath at Mt. Hermon,” “Cry of the Wounded Heaven,” “Joyless Dance in the Shadow,” and “Beyond Salvation” are blackened rippers that toe the line between punishment, catchiness, and frigidity – solidly written flow between blazing riffs and passages of slower reverie with jagged teeth bared. More patient epics take the cake, tracks like “Captive in the Breath of Life,” “Damned by the Law of the Stars,” and true closer “Lucifer’s Shade.” Sure, it’s black metal, but its bulletproof compositions don’t pretend to be anything more, so Nocturnal Sorcery offers a grim ‘n cold occult trip to the 90’s with Captive in the Breath of Life for those interested.
#2024 #Aesthetic #AmericanMetal #AnEnigmaticCreation #AtollInhumanImplants #BalSagoth #BlackMetal #Brymir #CaptiveInTheBreathOfLife #CoheedAndCambria #CripplingAlcoholism #DeathMetal #Deathcore #ETNA #Feb24 #FinnishMetal #GothicMetal #GothicRock #InMourning #InverseRecords #KingWoman #Kull #KVLTRecords #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Meth_ #Monkey3 #NapalmRecords #NocturnalSorcery #Omnivortex #PinkFloyd #PostRock #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #PsychedelicRock #Review #Reviews #Rock #SelfReleased #Slam #SpanishMetal #StuckInTheFilter #SulphurAeon #SunrisePatriotMotion #SwissMetal #TheOdious #UniqueLeaderRecords #Volucrine #WelcomeToTheMachine #WithLoveFromAPaddedRoom
AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Save This Utility – 亡失 Deprivation
By Dolphin Whisperer
“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”
New year, same ol’ Rodeö! As the inaugural unknown-spankin’ event of 2024, we shall take a moment to recognize the bands who put up the best fight in this unforgiving clown show. Texas doomsters Slumbering Sun may not have snagged first, but they did end up listing, a rare honor in these halls! However, despite that one enthusiastic supporter, Greek proglodytes Conspiracy of Zero stole the show with higher consistency in their Quo Vadis meets Cynic with a regional flair outing Ahthos Arouris. Haven’t checked it yet? Lucky you, now’s as good a time as ever!
But for our main course today, we have something different—something admittedly far more weird and avant-garde leaning. Perhaps if you’re familiar with the brand of brutal prog interwoven with experimental death metal and tasteful lounge jazz passages that unheralded Japanese act 五人一首 [Gonin-ish] pushes, you might feel a little at home with SAVE THIS UTILITY. This fledgling Kyoto-based troupe, though, seems to have their own inspirations, with a bassist whose seven-string prowess explores dutifully the realm of poppy Idol music and a guitarist who moonlights as a pumping rawstyle DJ. You might be wondering what this all adds up to in the context of a website that allegedly reviews metal. Well, read on if you dare. 亡失 Deprivation might just surprise you. – Dolphin Whisperer
SAVE THIS UTILITY // 亡失 Deprivation [February 5th, 2024]
El Cuervo: Save This Utility is about what you would expect from a Japanese band self-describing as avant-garde: weird as fuck. Deprivation pulls together unusual influences into an unexpected and unfamiliar release. While the unpredictable song structures and varying time signatures are pure prog, the guitar leads have a crunch and angularity drawn from mathcore. Likewise, the deathly roars lend things an extremer metal fringe, while the production has a clinical edge that tonally (if not musically) recalls industrial. And plenty of piano and synths paper over the cracks of the frantic song-writing. Inventive musical ideas are scattered throughout but the spectrum of sounds amalgamated is too wide for a cohesive, purposeful release; even for a novelty EP that only runs for a shade over thirty minutes. Similarly, those individual moments are fleeting and not constructed into compelling songs. As inventive and unexpected as everything is, I’m not left with an over-arching sense of the substance of this release. Can I recall a particular track? A particular riff? A particular melody? A particular emotion (other than bafflement)? The answer to each is no. Deprivation prizes style over substance, which leaves little to compel repeated listens. It does a lot, but doesn’t say a lot. 1.5/5.0
GardensTale: I tried, okay? I really, really tried. Iceberg waxed lyrically about this utterly confounding blob of free form jazz death so much, I felt like there had to be something there. I clawed my way through spin after spin of clashing melodies, weird throaty shouting, riffs going the wrong way, piano flourishes in random spots, repetition where you don’t expect it, the repetition stopping when you expect it to go on, a variety of synthy sounds inserted sideways and unlubed, and I can now say at my most confident that this really is not for me. I have an upper limit of jazz, and this is too much jazz. I recognize the talent of the musicians, and there is a certain dissonant allure to the weird bendy noises coming out of my speakers. But I can’t say I enjoy listening to the whole thing in one sitting. This is one you’re going to have to try for yourself; my score and my recommendation are going to be as useless as a review of the taste of grass, and only you can decide whether you’re a herbivore or not. 2.5/5.0
Dolphin Whisperer: Every now and then you stumble upon a piece of music that is as original as it also is a smart integration of various influences. 亡失 Deprivation somewhat mystified me at first but as I continued to dig through its layers of rich piano and synth melodies, understated but hypnotic rhythms, frolicking and popping bass runs, and marathon harmonic resolutions, I started to understand SAVE THIS UTILITY as the music-lovers they likely are. The peaceful yet powerful crescendo builds that these longer-form songs prance toward remind my ears of various Japanese math rock/post rock hybrid groups, like jizue or mouse on the keys. But also the kind of oscillating synth work from resonant patches, that imitate sounds similar to a vibraphone or a Rhodes piano, cross about soaring and searing guitar leads in a big prog Gonin-ish fashion. Even further these qualities intensify as SAVE THIS UTILITY ascends to clashing, warbling vocal harmonies that burst against bright instrumental peaks in an epic, whimsical tryst. On their previous debut full-length, some of these builds arose in a more melodeath-like fashion, with the harsh-clean trades feeling akin to late, experimental Dir en Grey work. And the synth composition felt incidental and circus-y—wacky video game music, perhaps. While this new EP still hosts an ominous growl against tension building chords, that death presence has grown from intrusion to atmosphere, which helps the hard-to-connect dots of each track’s individual pieces come together as a dream-like whole peaking in the fifteen minute closer “網目 Web.” And, as such, SAVE THIS UTILITY not only continues to command the tag ‘interesting’ but also ‘captivating.’ 亡失 Deprivation isn’t perfect by any means, but that wouldn’t be any fun now would it? 3.5/5.0
Iceberg: You remember that scene in the old Willy Wonka (1971) with all the psychedelic visuals where Gene Wilder keeps shouting “the danger must be growing?” SAVE THIS UTILITY’s EP Deprivation takes me right back to that sequence; terror and wonder, all wrapped up in a bad trip. If you can imagine a witches brew of The Mars Volta-flavored mathcore, Schoenbergian atonality, Sketches of Spain-era Miles Davis, and the instrumental noodling of Frank Zappa you might begin to get an idea of the world on display here. This amalgam of genres should be a jumbled mess—and I imagine many will think it is—but if you duck beneath the sound and fury there’s masterful structure and skill to be found. The tension of cluster chords1 and disjointed ostinati given release by crystalline synths in “Hollow,” the end of “Abandonment” draining melodic material into a horrifying black hole of noise and aleatoric rhythms; there’s magic written all over this album. All roads lead to the whopping 15 minute closer “Web,” a tour-de-force in long form writing that leaves me in awe every time I revisit it. This track wields dissonance and consonance like weapons, tearing apart traditional structure and tonality at will, only to piece it back together by it’s close. The only thing that bothers me here is a slightly muddled mix, but it hardly matters with this level of musical material. Fans of challenging and grotesque music should absolutely give SAVE THIS UTILITY a shot: this band is destined for great things. 4.0/5.0
Mystikus Hugebeard: 亡失 Deprivation, the newest album by Japanese avant-garde progressive metal act SAVE THIS UTILITY, is my initiation into the AMG Rodeö, and completely broke my brain the first few listens. At its core, 亡失 Deprivation is an album of complex, gritty textures, a jarring arrangement of music that falls into the “love it or hate it” category. The more transitory passages are the most fascinating to my ears; there are some compelling soundscapes to be found within the tense, dissonant guitars of “廃祀 Abandonment,” or the Glass Hammer-esque keyboard noodling and jazz pianos of “網目 Web.” My enjoyment breaks as the music grows heavier, and exponentially more chaotic. The zig-zag of the guitars is incongruous with the rhythm offered by the drums and the vocals, which alternate between brutal-death gurgles and shrieks. To the album’s credit, the conflicting layers of sound create a curious and novel musical texture that I would liken to sandpaper, but it becomes ear melting during the keyboards’ fire-alarm shrieking above the already cluttered heavy parts of “廃祀 Abandonment.” 亡失 Deprivation does have a nifty puzzle-box quality to it that I imagine some will enjoy picking apart and unraveling, but overall I find it just a little too obtuse to emotionally engage with. 2.5/5.0
#2024 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #ArnoldSchoenberg #AvantGardeMetal #Deprivation #DirEnGrey #Feb24 #FrankZappa #GlassHammer #GoninIsh #JapaneseMetal #JazzFusion #jizue #MathRock #MilesDavis #mouseOnTheKeys #PostRock #ProgressiveMetal #SaveThisUtility #TheMarsVolta #WillyWonka #五人一首
Sleepytime Gorilla Museum – Of the Last Human Being Review
By GardensTale
It must have been 2005 or 2006 that I first came into contact with Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, one of the most beautifully bewildering bands to ever grace the globe. Constructed around a narrative of a fictional dadaist and futurist performance troupe, the one-of-a-kind group from Oakland gained a loyal cult following over the span of three records. After seeing half a show in 2007,1 I took home a T-shirt, and I still have a vivid memory of getting the most mind-blown reaction from a fellow fan in a random hallway.2 Sadly, the band dissolved before finishing their fourth album, Of the Last Human Being. Its members went on to other projects, like Rabbit Rabbit Radio and Free Salamander Exhibit, many of them good, none of them scratching the same itch. Until last year, when the band decided to pick up where they left off and finish the album with a little crowdfunding assistance.
And indeed, Of the Last Human Being sounds like the band never left. But what that sounds like beguiles description for the many people not privy to Sleepytime’s history. An absurd mixture of instruments, some of them home-made, conglomerates into a surreal nightmare, tethered to reality tenuously by the dulcet tones of mad preacher Nils Frykdahl and hissed insanity of Carla Kihlstedt, who often sing in duet to truly maddening effect. At turns you may be reminded of Mr. Bungle (“Save It!”), UneXpect (“S.P.Q.R.”) or the most unhinged tenets of Diablo Swing Orchestra (“We Must Know More”). Most of the time, it won’t remind you of anything at all. Kihlstedt’s violin frequently duels with the guitars in riffs and leads that always sound unnatural, but never sound aimless. Quieter moments conjure unease with xylophones and wind instruments while the lyrics hang around in the venn diagram where schizophrenic manifesto and poetry overlap.
Structurally, though, Of the Last Human Being is less beyond the pale, and it helps balance out the plethora of wildly imaginative textures and flourishes. “Salamander in Two Worlds” is a powerful opener, working its way up from hushed vocals and brass to a feverish, almost sludge-like cacophony with atypical, ricocheting percussion and tremolo riffs, yet featuring an actual chorus. “S.P.Q.R.” is even more frenzied, Frykdahl and Kihlstedt shouting an unhinged lecture on Romans in tandem, but repeat stanzas guard the track’s cohesion. This high energy stands in stark contrast with the quietly sanity-unspooling creepiness of “Silverfish,” featuring Kihlstedt quavering between bouts of shrill violin, or the sardonic grandstanding folk of “Old Grey Heron.” Even the shorter tracks and interludes spin bizarre imagery and leap from sad to surreal to sinister.
Though Sleepytime Gorilla Museum only has 3 prior albums to its name, it’s worth measuring Of the Last Human Being against these, if only to see whether the intervening years have done anything to diminish the troupe’s unique qualities. I‘m happy to say that they largely haven’t, though this comes with a few liner notes. Just like before the hiatus, this is heady music, and whether you’d call it pretentious is entirely dependent on your tolerance for theatrical excess, specifically with its dadaistic influences on full display, like a minute and a half of ringing bells serving as an interlude. Though, to this I should add, this might still be the most accessible album Sleepytime has ever made. In the context of all the weird, offbeat, and characteristic songs in the tracklist, “El Evil” sounds almost normal. I must admit I’m not terribly fond of “Hush, Hush,” and instrumental closer “Rose-Colored Song” could have done the same in half the length. But when you’re talking Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, lavishness has a tendency to become a virtue, and it’s still ever so pleasant a nightmare to wallow in.
Apparently, it’s an infectious stance, as I find myself writing with more color and more abundance and abandon than usual. Perhaps it’s the part of me that never believed I’d get to write this review. As a longtime fan, I am beyond thrilled that not only is Sleepytime Gorilla Museum back, but its music still has the same unique apocalyptic quality, even if it feels just a tad safer than the band’s prior output. As a reviewer, I am just as happy to be able to share my love for this band with thousands of readers, and tell you all with full conviction: step into the Museum of the Last Human Being, for it is an experience unlike any other, and a fantastic return for a most unique, extraordinary ensemble of musicians.
Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Avant Night
Websites: sleepytimegorillamuseum1.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/sleepytimegorillamuseum
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024
#2024 #40 #AmericanMetal #AvantGarde #AvantNight #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Feb24 #FreeSalamanderExhibit #MrBungle #OfTheLastHumanBeing #RabbitRabbitRadio #Review #Reviews #SleepytimeGorillaMuseum #Unexpect
Record(s) o’ the Month – February 2024
By Angry Metal Guy
The common wisdom about February in Sweden is that it’s the dreariest month; it’s long, it’s gray, it’s cold and it’s only standing between you and spring. At least in November you can look forward to Christmas, but February is just a long, bitter slog. I carried this attitude over to metal releases from the early winter months, as well. However, as I showed last month, January’s reputation for being slow appears to be incorrect. The same is true of February, apparently, if my lists are anything to go by.
In contrast to January, February seems to either hit or miss, with less in the middle range. February proffered, for example, few Honorable Mentions (just Frozen Dawn in 2023 and Ad Nauseam in 2021) and fewer #(ish)es (only Beyond the Red Mirror in 20151), while the only other February release that I ranked under #4 on my Top 10(ish) was Steven Wilson’s The Raven That Refused to Sing which came in at #9 in 2013. The top 4, on the other hand, has been flush with great February releases. Behemoth’s best album (yeah, I said it), The Satanist, was released in February of 2014 (and ranked at #4) and we first met Kvaen in February of 2020 and they, too, ranked at #4 at my RotY list in 2020. The highest ranked February record is the reigning Record o’ the Year from 2023, Carnosus’ brilliant Visions of Infinihility. But what struck me was that fully 30% of the #2s on my end of year list between 2013 and 2023 were February releases: Fleshgod Apocalypse’s uaaaautastic King (2016)2; Black Sites’ excellent debut record In Monochrome (2017); and Soen’s brilliant Lotus (2019).3
February 2024 was pretty fucking tedious and trying for me, at least personally. With another stint on the IL from an innocent little cold that turned out to pack a wallop and that knocked me down for nearly 3 weeks,4 there was plenty of time to passively assess the collective output of the metal scene via AngryMetalGuy.com. So, will any of these make it back around in December? Or is being miserable an insurmountable bias in my listening process? I guess only time will tell.
Borknagar, celebrating three decades of influence in black metal and beyond, continued to captivate fans with their latest album, Fall [February 23rd, 2024 | Century Media Records (Bandcamp)]. These Norwegians’ unyielding dedication has ensured a surprising consistency in quality throughout this time, with each lineup change resulting in a new record that belongs in the band’s pantheon of ‘bests.’ Fall revisits the band’s roots while maintaining their signature expansiveness and melody, and masterfully blend black metal ferocity with serene, atmospheric passages (like on “Summits” or “Moon”). And, as is often the case, it’s the contrasts between brooding melodies and aggressive riffs that makes Fall stand out from the crowd, both heavy and rich. And it’s just that, Fall’s diversity—from the heavy to the harmonious—that exemplifies the band’s well-balanced journey through time and genre. Borknagar continues to successfully blend the harsher elements of their past with the matured sound of recent years to great success. As our own Dr. A.N. Grier exclaimed, “After repeated listens, I still find something new in each of Fall’s songs. When compared to 2019’s True North, this release has more elements, greater progression, and better continuity.” It’s just a darn good record from a legendary band.
Runner(s) Up:
Necrowretch // Swords of Dajjal [February 2nd, 2024 | Season of Mist | Bandcamp]: Nearly four years after their fourth album, The Ones from Hell, French blackened death metal band Necrowretch has returned with Swords of Dajjal. This album, inspired by the Islamic mythology of Al-Masih ad-Dajjal, marries the band’s death metal roots with a more pronounced black metal influence. The result is a vicious, bestial sound, highlighted by the gravelly, sepulchral vocals and the rage and enchantment carried on the guitars and in the rhythm section. Swords of Dajjal retains a concise 37-minute runtime, avoiding the trap of over-indulgence while exploring epic themes and this is one of its best choices. Each listen requires a re-listen, each time it ends you are left wanting more. As Carcharodon gushed, “One of the first things to really hit me in 2024, Necrowretch made a real step up from The Ones from Hell. More maturely and consistently written than that last record, Swords of Dajjal has a flow and intensity to it, which gives it an epic feeling of grandeur that belies its tight runtime.”
Counting Hours // The Wishing Tomb [February 23rd, 2024 | Ardua Music | Bandcamp]: Counting Hours, born from the legacy of Finnish melodic doom band Rapture, has returned with its follow-up album, The Wishing Tomb. This record weaves a tapestry of sadness, despair, and melancholy; masterfully blending influences from the early days of Katatonia, Dawn of Solace, and the core essence of Rapture itself. Counting Hours is like the Platonic Ideal of sadboi Finnish doom metal. It’s heavy, yet infused with mournful guitar work and poignant vocals that capture the essence of darkness and sadness and which complement melancholic leads, harmonious riffs, and the occasional crushing doom onslaught. The Wishing Tomb is both beautiful and heartrending and finds Counting Hours showcasing their profound understanding of the genre conventions, yet delivering the fresh takes on familiar themes as so few bands really ever do well. As scene veteran and undeniably Sadboi Druhm opined after his most recent crying jag, “Counting Hours have the perfect formula and know exactly how to get to the heart of Steel.” It’s not often that the Druhm himself breaks the counter like some kind of overrating overrater. Heed him.
#2024 #AngryMetalGuySRecordSOTheMonth #ArduaMusic #Borknagar #CenturyMediaRecords #CountingHours #Fall #Feb24 #Necrowretch #RecordSOTheMonth #SeasonOfMist #SwordsOfDajjal #TheWishingTomb
Lionheart – The Grace of a Dragonfly Review
By El Cuervo
Lionheart has tracked an unusual course. Beginning in the 80s as one of the next-in-line groups to follow the big AOR bands of the day, things stalled and they disappeared into the annals of time with just one full-length release under their belt. The 2010s saw a quiet return with Second Nature and latterly The Reality of Miracles, both being rose-tinted if middling summaries of a sound from nearly 40 years prior. 2024 sees the third record of Lionheart 2.0, entitled The Grace of a Dragonfly. A distinctly British WW2 concept album, Dragonfly promised something a little more poignant with an anti-war message while commemorating historical sacrifices made.
Anyone already familiar with the most popular, debatably metal bands of the 80s (Def Leppard, Whitesnake) will understand what’s going on with Lionheart. Big power chords in the verses, big vocals in the choruses, crunchy but accessible riffs, and an overly of keyboards that sometimes take the form of a piano and sometimes something synthier. Dragonfly largely makes for an upbeat, easy-going sort of listen. Anyone also already familiar with the work of Lee Small will understand that his vocals are the buttery-smooth gel holding everything together. His simple, clear style which can also deploy dramatic flair where necessary is a coup for a band like this. It’s this that makes the general preoccupation with gang vocals in the choruses – immaculate Leppard harmonies these ain’t – so baffling. The more time spent with Small, and the less time with other vocals, the better. Music like this thrives on catchy melodies, so the best moments are those with memorable vocals and guitars. The guitar lick bridging the end of the chorus on “This Is a Woman’s War” is marvelous, and the urgent lead carrying “The Longest Night” likewise excels.
However, these moments otherwise prove the rule that Dragonfly is marked more by competence than excellence. There’s very little essentially wrong here, from the solid riffs to solid melodies to solid songwriting. It’s remarkably consistent as a coherent group of songs orienting around their concept in four-five minute segments. But it lacks much that’s outstanding other than Small’s vocals which do a lot of heavy-lifting. Its predecessor had higher highs (“Overdrive”, which remains a certified banger) and also lower lows (“The First Man”) but also greater variety in its integration of different sounds as I described in my previous review. Dragonfly is more consistent but less exciting and varied.
The brevity and pace of the songs progress the album briskly. But the back half travels through a low ebb as “Little Ships” and “Just a Man” lose my interest. They do nothing that isn’t done elsewhere and better; here, the record’s tonal and stylistic consistency is detrimental as I question the presence of these tracks. By contrast, the two tracks beyond this contain some of the best material, so Dragonfly would improve with some of the fattier meat trimmed. I also query the inclusion of the introductory sequence on the opener (“Declaration”) and the brief closer (“Remembrance, Praying for World Peace”). Each stands separate from the songs they’re a part of or next to. I understand their value to the record’s concept, but musically they’re extraneous and should have been integrated better. In particular, the closer would have been better served as a full track because what’s here rushes too many ideas into a space that’s too small, including an interesting orchestral edge.
I’m left with a sense of talent that hasn’t yet been fully realized in Lionheart’s modern era. While Dragonfly benefits from repeated listens as some of the initially unremarkable melodies sink deeper over time, it nonetheless struggles to push beyond just average. Despite Small’s big voice and the occasionally great guitar hooks, I can’t warmly recommend Dragonfly. It’s an adequate album of adequate songs with adequate melodies. Fans of the 80s could do much worse but also much better.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metalville
Websites: lionheart-music.com | facebook.com/lionheart
Releases worldwide: March 15th, 2024
#25 #2024 #AlbumOrientedRock #DefLeppard #EnglishMetal #Feb24 #HardRock #Lionheart #Review #Reviews #Skyscraper #TheGraceOfADragonfly #Whitesnake
Hecatoncheir – Nightmare Utopia Review
By Dear Hollow
On the advent of the release of Nightmare Utopia, Hecatoncheir posted a series of poetry and stories attached to each of the forthcoming songs on social media. The journey begins by following a dark silhouette, each installment describes surreal and dreamlike landscapes, strange characters, and objects—with monolithic importance attached in the strange way that dreams do. In the latter tracks, ever-vigilant eyes watch from the stars and assume a more horrific face as they emerge from the darkness as the cruel pelagic and empyrean deities and monsters among Lovecraft’s multitudes. Hecatoncheir’s uniquely dreamlike take on chthonic horror, balanced by its ambitions in liminal spaces, set one hell of a precedent for the music contained herein.
Slovakian trio Hecatoncheir, named after a trio of hundred-armed, fifty-headed allies of the Olympians in Hesiod’s Theogony, blurs the borderlands between its influences—making this quite the feat for an act with limited experience in the scene.1 Throughout Nightmare Utopia’s thirty-two-minute runtime, you will hear the familiar wail of dissonant stylings, the cold saturation of black metal, the brutality of death metal, the megaton weight of sludge, and the patience of doom—influences of Our Place of Worship is Silence, Portal, Thantifaxath, and Mass Worship all have a hand in laying waste to this hellish landscape. Hecatoncheir weaponizes riffs and atmosphere that not only conjure a journey through the uncanny valley but wield enough firepower to overthrow the Titans with the fists of chthonic gods in the act’s debut.
Humbly self-described as a “mid-tempo juggernaut,” the dichotomy of punishing density and menacing atmosphere is what makes Hecatoncheir stand out. Each track assumes an identity of its own, with a common thread of crystalline dissonance coursing through its jagged movements. Fiery tremolo gives way to thick riffs seamlessly, while monolithic doom sludge gives way to skull-crushing riffs, overlaid by simple yet effective plucking and dissonant leads. You would be forgiven in thinking that opener “Dreamless” introduces the next Thantifaxath album with its blastbeat and tremolo-guided trek, because after the brief ambient track “Nightmare Utopia (I. The Falsebound Kingdom),” the formidable and monolithic “Nightmare Utopia (II. Him in the Gulf)” hits with a Mass Worship-like sludgy intensity, portraying Lovecraft’s idiot god Azathoth with a deserving hugeness. “Sefirot of Understanding” capitalizes upon the Our Place of Worship is Silence influence in its thick and sticky chugs, balanced by dissonant passages and a blackened edge.
While the common thread courses through the sludge, black, and death metal passages throughout the first half of Nightmare Utopia as it maintains remarkable balance, it reaches its apex with its three closers, “The Crowning Horror,” “Madness of the Stars,” and “The Watcher, the Witness,” dragging the previous relatively safe compositions to an unforeseen depth. “The Crowning Horror” offers a central Portal-esque crawling riff atop vicious blastbeats with a nearly thrashy blaze tossed in, combined with an unforgettable melodic interlay that adds a needed jolt in context to the mid-tempo pummeling of “Sefirot of Understanding.” “Madness of the Stars” then proceeds to walk the path of Hierophant and Nightmarer with the thickest and most pummeling riffs of the album and a thickly distorted blackened closing, before “The Watcher, the Witness” revisits the uncompromising sludge of “Him in the Gulf” with a minimalist spin, focusing on its plucking and sprawling sludge, nearly-drone chords atop contemplative blastbeats.
“I am everything. The light and the darkness, the left hand and the right hand, the sun and the flesh, the beginning and the end. The creator and the destroyer.” I am reminded of these final words in Hecatoncheir’s poetic commentary on closer “The Watcher, the Witness.” Nightmare Utopia certainly dwells in far darker places than much of the metalverse, but it’s much more than that. The themes of forbidden knowledge, horror, and violence are balanced by the trio’s emphasis on liminality, emptiness, and patience. While listeners may see influence disparity as a lack of commitment, the sudden out-of-the-blue closing passages of the three closers jarring, or the unwavering growls monotone, Hecatoncheir’s ambition and the seamless blend of black, death, sludge, and doom balances atmosphere and punishment as deftly as a debut can get. As you find yourself in the fog, follow the faint silhouette of the man, slightly darker than his surroundings—he’ll guide you home.
Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Total Dissonance Worship
Websites: facebook.com/hecatoncheir.sk | hecatoncheir-sk.bandcamp.com
Releases worldwide: February 29th, 2024
#2024 #40 #AleaIactaEst #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BlackenedSludgeMetal #DeathMetal #DissonantBlackMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #DoomMetal #Feb24 #Hecatoncheir #Hierophant #MassWorship #NightmareUtopia #Nightmarer #OldTomb #OurPlaceOfWorshipIsSilence #Portal #Review #Reviews #SlovakMetal #SludgeMetal #Thantifaxath #TotalDissonanceWorship
Drain Down – Toxic Society Review
By Cherd
While scouring the howling existential void we call the promo pit for a review to cleanse my palate after the 70 minutes of prog death I tackled in my last outing, the words “cross-over thrash” called to me. What could be more cleansing than some fast riffs and gang-shouted choruses? I even bemused aloud to the other writers that it might be fun to get some beef-witted, Victory Records circa 1996-style stomps. Why I thought that would be fun, I don’t know. It wasn’t even my style of choice when I was a ’90s hardcore kid, but I guess a couple of weeks pouring over prog death will do that to you. Toxic Society, the sophomore full-length from German hardcore/thrash band Drain Down, turns out to be everything I stupidly asked for. Am I angry and aimless enough to pick up what these Teutonic terrors are throwing down? Are you? Join me in the pit for some enthusiastic arm-flailing and high-minded discussion.
The two most immediate features of Toxic Society’s sound are its buzzsaw guitar tone and Ferdinand Panknin’s gruff vocal delivery. The former is appropriately scuzzy, but it’s a touch too far forward in the mix, and the entire production job is surprisingly scrubbed. As for Panknin, his limited range is squarely in the “tough guy hardcore” trope, where every word is shouted and clipped short like he’s being punched in the gut. While there’s certainly a thrashy component to the riffs and solos, especially on the blazing “Scams” and the hard-grooving “Political Animal,” this record leans heavily toward straight hardcore, especially in the verse/shouted chorus/verse structure. Case in point, the tough guy stomp of “Toxic Society” and “Stultus Populus” overpowers any thrashy nuance guitarist Heiko Kratz brings to the table.
This is a shame, since Kratz’s work throughout Toxic Society is precise and confident, whether it’s the halting, almost robotic riffing of “Zero Tolerance” or the ’80s-tastic widdly-widdly solo in “Toxic Society.” Taken alone, his riffs are effortless and varied, equally successful as thrash or hardcore. Unfortunately, once you hear Panknin stumble in like someone who has had just enough liquid courage to finally grab the mic at hardcore karaoke night, it’s hard to focus on anything else. I’ll admit that the style he goes for is one I’ve never enjoyed personally, but even within that style, his range is exceptionally limited and monotone. A more dynamic vocalist could really bring some of this material to life, but as things are, any energy the instruments bring is dampened significantly.
When it comes to content, I usually give some benefit of the doubt to non-native speakers and cut them slack for uninspired lyrics in English. Unfortunately, the songs and sentiments of Toxic Society are so on-the-nose for the style Drain Down plays, that it comes across like parody music you’d catch in the background of a video game or TV show. Bad things: society, politicians, social media. Right on, guys. I’m with you. What would you say is bad about these? “Corruption.” Cool, cool, yeah, but like, what specifically? “Uh… corruption.” And that’s about as deep as any of it gets. Even their incorporation of swear words feels canned and weirdly sterile. The chorus of “Political Animal,” which goes “Politi-cal ani-mal, greedy bastard pigs, politi-cal ani-mal, fat sadistic dicks, politi-cal ani-mal, spread your nasty lies, politi-cal ani-mal, well Je-sus fu-cking Christ,” drones over and over until you can’t wait to change songs.
Musically, Toxic Society is solid, if not always dynamic. As I’ve said, a different vocalist could change the impact of this drastically. Lyrically, if this was a car and I was a mechanic, I’d encourage the owner to sell it for 500 dollars to a scrap yard and start over with a new one. As for my choice of promos, be careful what you ask for, because you might get exactly that.
Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Sunset
Websites: draindown.de | facebook.com/draindown
Releases Worldwide: February 29th, 2024
#20 #2024 #BlackSunsetRecords #CrossoverThrash #DrainDown #Feb24 #GermanMetal #Hardcore #Review #Reviews #ThrashMetal #ToxicSociety
Skuggor – Whispers of Ancient Spells Review
By Dear Hollow
Skuggor is exactly what you expect it will sound like. Gothic font and grainy nature photo with themes of darkness, mist, and myth? You betcher ass it’s atmospheric black metal. “But I’m sure there’s something unique here, Hollow,” I can hear you say. Have you heard atmospheric black metal? You don’t listen to this shit for the neatest thing since Deftones. You listen cuz you want to be sucked into arcane and forlorn woods of ancient magic and nature untouched by human hands. I mean, duh. It walks the way of Judas Iscariot’s greatest hits and nods to the raw heroes of Evilfeast and Paysage d’Hiver, and hell, that’s not always a bad thing.
Skuggor’s greatest asset is its patience. Its sole member Matthew Bell offers this trait throughout his storied catalog of acts like Forlorn Citadel, Autumn’s Dawn, Mjältsjuka, and myriad others. Each offers nature-themed black metal unafraid of its more abrasive tendencies but relying on the soothing ambiance and contemplative tempos to do the talking. In this way, Whispers of Ancient Spells is an overwhelmingly safe album, smartly composed with a solid foundation of grim progressions, percussive plods, and shrieks upon which Skuggor builds its melodies. Across a reasonable thirty-two minutes and five tracks, expect this patient songwriting and pleasant melodies to take center stage in an album that does nothing to hurt or help atmoblack’s toothless reputation.
Skuggor’s patient songcraft makes songs perhaps feel longer than they are, which can be a good thing in this case. Firmly rooted in the depressive school of thought in sprawling strums with subtle tremolo flares and a plodding dirge-like pace, each track is built around a raw and grim chord progression, with some percussive and tremolo picking flare and a synth that never feels too much. Likewise, songs like the opening title track and “Silent Cry of the Forests Embrace” feel like a cleaner Evilfeast at a ColdWorld pace, with a solid undercurrent of double bass providing a palpable energy—necessary for this more contemplative breed of black metal. Starting with a glacial and unbearable pace, “As Fog Reveals the Path of Despair” and closer “A Forgotten Past” slowly grow across their respective runtime to include punkier beats then concluding with the only two appearances of blastbeats, all the while solidly anchored by chords and keys. “Shadows Echoing Through Time” is also a notable inclusion, due to its epic scope in the fusion of atmosphere and grimness.
The glaring issue with Whispers of Ancient Spells is that it refuses to take any risks. This makes Skuggor’s sound pleasant in its grimness but little else, as each track follows the same reliable but well-trodden path: loud drums and grim strums, shrieks, frosty keys, quiet passages with an overlay of plucking, repeat—in that order. The rapidity of the chord progressions and drum patterns are the only tether that keeps the album running at a pace other than contemplative, such as the quick interchanges of “Silent Cry of the Forests Embrace.” While this centerpiece is the most energetic cut of the album, it also simply drags on for too long due to its nine-and-a-half minute runtime, the passages growing weary by its dead-horse-beating end. Because of Skuggor’s more thoughtful compositions in adherence to the atmoblack a la second wave, no song particularly stands out: Whispers of Ancient Spells is a brief and pleasant hum that takes a multitude of listens to discern its undercurrents and movements beneath.
To his credit, Bell makes some solid atmoblack in the Skuggor project. This is cearly the work of a veteran, Whispers of Ancient Spells embodies the older interpretation of the style that feels distinctly cold and grim—spitting at the textured and warm palettes seen in more contemporary offerings of the same ilk. That being said, with how smartly and neatly it is composed, it loses a certain gusto by a certain point because of its stubbornness in not taking risks. Each track balances atmosphere and grimness with energy, but none of the above truly stand out or will impact your opinion of the style. If cold and traditional atmoblack a la Evilfeast, Paysage d’Hiver, Judas Iscariot, or Midnight Odyssey are your jam, then check out Skuggor. If not, you’re not missing much.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: ~190 kb/s mp3
Label: Naturmacht Productions
Websites: skuggor.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024
#25 #2024 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #AutumnSDawn #BlackMetal #Coldworld #DSBM #Evilfeast #Feb24 #ForlornCitadel #JudasIscariot #MidnightOdyssey #Mjältsjuka #NaturmachtProductions #PaysageDHiver #Review #Reviews #Skuggor #SwedishMetal #WhispersOfAncientSpells
Hand of Kalliach – Corryvreckan Review
By Eldritch Elitist
I loathe the unspoken limitations of genre qualifiers. I am telling you right now that I’m presenting you with a specimen of melodic death/folk metal. As you read that phrase, your brain probably immediately jumped to Ensiferum. I can’t say I blame you, as Ensiferum was one of the first and arguably the best at hybridizing melodeath and folk music. But that same presumption might lead your expectations towards Hand of Kalliach astray. A Scottish husband and wife duo, Hand of Kalliach is self-described as melodic death metal that is interwoven with Celtic and Gaelic folk music and has been making wholly distinct music defying implied genre confines since 2020. Their yet-brief existence has already spawned an independent EP and LP, and now a sophomore full-length under the Prosthetic Records banner. Swift underground successes and unique sonic signifiers are all well and good, but when it comes to Corryvreckan, does innovation translate to a worthwhile listen?
To some of those expecting more traditional melodeath thrills, the answer may well be “no.” Yet as someone who traditionally prefers melodeath when it sticks to the hits, my answer is nonetheless a resounding “fuck yes.” Hand of Kalliach plays what I can best describe as atmospheric melodic death metal—hammer-on licks dance with crunchy, utilitarian death metal riffs amidst backdrops of ethereal vocals, to borderline hypnotic effect. If I allow myself a crumb of reductiveness, this approach sounds like a hybrid of Amon Amarth’s instrumentation and Sojourner’s spellbinding, Summoning-adjacent aesthetic. Hand of Kalliach nailed this approach with 2021’s Samhainn, and Corryvreckan enshrines the formula as well as any sophomore record ever has. Its writing feels tighter, song-to-song quality is more consistent, and in general, it gives me exactly what I wanted coming off of the preceding Samhainn: more.
While Corryvreckan provides exactly what I hoped, I can’t deny its potential for further refinement. This record may excel through consistency, but in retrospect, Samhainn had brighter highlights. That record’s best songs (“Beneath Starlit Waters” and “Each Uisge”) remain Hand of Kalliach’s most ambitious; Corryvreckan’s “Three Seas” and “Of Twilight and the Pyre” aim for similarly lofty heights, but take a bit too long getting to the point. Corryvreckan’s strengths, then, lie in its short-form material. “Deathless” and “The Cauldron” are masterfully condensed attacks at three minutes apiece, with the former’s knuckle-dragging, fighting game-ready riffs making it my favorite cut of the record. If those superficial thrills were spliced with Samhainn’s towering epics, Corryvreckan could have been the superior record. As-is, I find the two records on equal footing, with differing areas of specialization.
Much of what makes Hand of Kalliach so compelling lies in the contrasting vocal talents of Sophie and John Fraser. The former’s airy, Celtic folk-derived melodies imbue the proceedings with a downright mystical quality, while the latter’s full-throated death metal roars add a significant edge to the already substantial core execution. Together, they make one of the best “beauty and beast” vocal duos I’ve heard. While the vocals are typically lauded as one of Hand of Kalliach’s primary strengths, their engineering jobs are more divisive. Though sorely lacking in dynamism, I kinda love the way this record sounds. Its melodies feel grounded in landscapes and myth, and yet the drums and guitars feel unapologetically synthetic, with the latter’s blunt, sawing tones giving the record a nearly industrial metal vibe. This dichotomy of nature and electricity adds yet another intriguing wrinkle to an already fascinating soundscape.
Bands like Hand of Kalliach are vital to the metal ecosystem, those acts that take a somewhat avant-garde approach in style and songcraft while simultaneously delivering traditional immediacy and pure aggression. I have minor nitpicks with their songwriting – primarily, I wish they’d learn how to end songs in ways that don’t involve an abrupt cutoff – but I remain content, yet ever-curious about how the Frasers’ singular project will evolve going forward. Since I first heard Samhainn, I’ve believed that Hand of Kalliach has a masterpiece tucked away within their craft that will inevitably be unlocked by time and resilience. Corryvreckan may not be revelatory, but it is still a vital step in Hand of Kalliach’s creative journey and solidifies them as one of the most exciting metal bands working today.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records | Bandcamp
Websites: handofkalliach.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/handofkalliach | twitter.com/HKalliach
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024
#2024 #35 #AmonAmarth #Corryvreckan #Ensiferum #Feb24 #FolkMetal #HandOfKalliach #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Sojourner #Summoning
North Sea Echoes – Really Good Terrible Things Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
Fewer combos in metal have spurred music in my wheelhouse as that of Ray Alder and Jim Matheos. Their union for Fates Warning’s 1988 release No Exit burst in the budding progressive metal scene with USPM histrionics and Rush-fueled narrative structure. Of course, that was near forty years ago. At sixty vs twenty, your mind (mostly) thinks differently, your voice cracks differently, your hair grays and may even thin. In the case of Alder and Matheos, while immune to the loss of hair, do fall in line to some extent with the other consequences of time. Alder, for his part, has slowly adapted his caterwauling to a lower-register, full-voiced croon, gracing many later era Fates albums with his refined calls, as well as providing some power to important Redemption albums and 2023’s A-Z release. Matheos has foreshadowed his own growing ethereality with the electro-alt-prog of OSI and pet ambient project Tuesday the Sky displaying little of the riff and raucous of his heaviest work. North Sea Echoes, then, naturally follows this gentler path. Do its waves even make a sound worth echoing though?
Maybe you caught the last Fates record or Alder’s follow-up solo release, but even amongst the heavier distortion numbers on those jams, Alder’s performances have tended to his sleepier, softer side. North Sea Echoes, of course, doesn’t sell itself any other way, stirring a current throughout Really Good Terrible Things that’s more of the fizzle of a wave dragged over rocks into a tide pool rather than an open beach crash. In that regard, many of Matheos’ spindly guitar works flitter about like the bright and climbing melodies of a Helios breeze (“Throwing Stones,” “We Move Around the Sun”) with Alder’s warm voice finding the surge in the way synth embellishments could in a less minimal approach. When North Sea Echoes does attempt to hit a little harder with bass-leaning patches and the rare bit of guitar distortion, songs lean toward a build reminiscent of Matheos’ OSI work, albeit approached with a voice fueled by a passion for life in all its peaks and valleys (“Flowers in Decay,” “Empty”).
However, in this post rock-informed, downtempo-tinged, ambient-goaled, North Sea Echoes has a hard time finding hypnosis in any particular realm of relaxation that Really Good Terrible Things enters. After a fairly snappy two-track kick-off, the dreamy-pedaled “Unmoved” springs to life with Alder’s sultry, somber allure in full force, so much so that at the nine-minute mark we’ve already encountered a crescendo far too large—complete with the extended “aaaah aaaah” de-escalation to fade—for an album with seven more slow-burning steps remaining. Later with “Where I’m From” and “We Move Around the Sun” Alder again reaches for the throats of his fiery words only to come back down to a waning, repetitive vocalization. One of these three tracks by itself could have provided the necessary peak in this kind of extra chilled-out Portishead-y experience, but scattered they work against each other to create a successful float.
On the plus side, most of the music rests in the hands of Matheos’ strings and synths, the former of which remains both the most expressive and expansive across this ten-track trek. It’s hard to say whether Really Good Terrible Things would have faired better as an instrumental set, as tracks like “Flowers in Decay,” “Throwing Stones,” and “No Maps” capture a powerful unison between Matheos’ diverse amplifications and Alder’s butter-melting serenades. And if it weren’t for guest Gunnar Olsen simultaneously riding steady on “Throwing Stones” and crashing the kit on “Empty,” I wouldn’t have noticed much that the rest of the percussive presence is all of Matheos’ spacious programming, which shines on the glitchy, upbeat kicker “The Mission.” Closer “No Maps,” however, does stumble a bit in its guitar-lite presentation, relying on a gradual, swirling synth build and Alder to put a lightly-etched period on its still digestible run.
Though, unless you’re really into what North Sea Echoes has to say—the lyrics are fairly uplifting all around—there’s a good chance you’ll check out at some point. I know I did. As a fan of ambient music, I crave immersion. And, despite the time-tested pedigree of the legendary performers involved on Really Good Terrible Things, that immersion never quite finds its pillow-y, smothering hold. Never stealing my breath nor providing the internal space for an inhale that pulls in all the world’s healing air, North Sea Echoes, for me, is neither swell nor even splash.
Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records | Bandcamp
Websites: northseaechoes.com | facebook.com/northseaechoesofficial | northseaechoes.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024
#20 #2024 #Ambient #Downtempo #FatesWarning #Feb24 #Helios #MetalBladeRecords #NonMetal #NorthSeaEchoes #OSI #Portishead #PostRock #ReallyGoodTerribleThings #Review #Reviews #TuesdayTheSky
They Came from Visions – The Twilight Robes Review
By Doom_et_Al
I’ve always found the notion of “folk horror” to be altogether more ominous and scarier than psychopaths stalking teenagers. Rural settings, pagan beliefs, blood sacrifices, normal people committing terrible acts in the name of terrifying superstition … this is all deeply compelling stuff. They Came from Visions, an anonymous Ukrainian black metal outfit, clearly agrees. Sophomore album, The Twilight Robes, is positively steeped in folk horror, positioning each of its songs as a vignette, explaining the arrival of mysterious strangers called – you guessed it! – The Twilight Robes – who visit horror and despair upon an unsuspecting world, causing them to act in violent and depraved ways. This simple, yet compelling, theme is emphasized by the gorgeous, uncluttered album art. The fact that this comes from Ukraine, a country currently at war, only heightens the allegory. So far, so good. But does the music match the lofty aims of the band’s themes?
Mostly! They Came from Visions are, first and foremost, a black metal band, with one foot in the atmospheric camp and another in the melodic. There are rasped, wretched vocals, a raw production, and instrumentation with a distinctly medieval flavor to it. When it comes together, there is an indelible sense of atmosphere and foreboding, reminding me of European contemporaries Vehemence, albeit a lot less polished. The songs are surprisingly melodic, often building around central riffs that may not be earworms, per se, but are definitely on the catchier side. Check the central melodies of “Equinox Ablaze” or “Burning Eyes Blackened Claws.” The downside is that, like too many bands these days, the songs occasionally go on too long, draining them of some of their punch.
What really holds The Twilight Robes together so well is how beautifully the concept and the music are melded. The stories are horrifying – in the aforementioned “Equinox Ablaze,” for example, we hear about a village that burns its own citizens alive to appease the Harvest Gods. Yes, this is very Wicker Man-esque, but the band treat the subject matter with solemnity and seriousness, making it far more like the Christopher Lee version than the Nicolas Cage one. The harshness of the music combines with the subject matter like peanut butter and chocolate, resulting in an album that stays thematically consistent throughout its runtime. It does feel like we are witnessing a world slowly being consumed by superstitious darkness. Considering the meager resources available to the band while recording, this is a fantastic achievement.
About that production, though. It really does the music no favors whatsoever. The drums are far too soft, which is a problem when your music is mid-paced and melodic. Instead of thumping rhythm we get anemic pats, which leaches the music of some of its power. The vocals are too prominent, and with little variety in the rasps, quickly become overpowering and somewhat headache-inducing. A few times, I had to stop the album despite enjoying the songs, because my ears were hurting. Maybe I’m just getting olde, but more likely The Twilight Robes needed some more tinkering in the mixing studio. This is all unfortunate because the production missteps draw the listener out of the experience, rather than immersing them in it.
Despite these issues, the good on The Twilight Robes outweighs the bad. The songs are compelling and thematically cohesive. The tone is pitch-perfect and moody, while capturing that unmistakable folk horror aesthetic. With some tighter editing and some tinkering in the production studio, we could have had something truly special. As it is, this is a flawed, yet highly entertaining addition to the “rural” black metal genre.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Eisenwald Records
Websites: theycamefromvisions.bandcamp.com/ | facebook.com/theycamefromvisions/
Released Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024
#2024 #30 #BlackMetal #EisenwaldRecords #Feb24 #FolkMetal #Review #Reviews #TheyCameFromVisions #UkrainianMetal #Vehemence
Útgarðar – Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back Review
By Dear Hollow
Norse mythology pervading black metal is nothing new. Due to the style’s Scandinavian origins, it would not surprise me to see Lucifer and Odin taking swigs of Christian blood together in a burning Waffle House in like Tromsø, for instance. Norse Paganism has always been the wingman for anti-Christianity under Metallum’s profile lyrical themes, so the slaughter of Ymir and the rise of Yggdrasil across the yawning void Ginnungagap, the rivalry of Loki and Thor, and the fierce matchups of Ragnarök have long captured the imaginations of the western world. In this way, Útgarðar offers little new, as you’ll find the nine worlds, the great frost-giant Ymir, the trolls, and the formidable ferocity of the wolves Fenrir, Sköll, and Hati all play a part. A tangible thread of storytelling courses through the thirty-two minutes of debut Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back.
You may recognize Útgarðar’s two members, as American instrumentalist Niðafjöll (Nathan Verschoor) is known for his work with recent Uada, Veiled, and Altars of the Moon, while Swedish vocalist/guitarist Seiðr (Andreas Westholm) features a storied discography with acts like Blackest, Seid, and Serpent Omega. Both members offer a distinctly down-tuned sound, heavier guitar tone, and more “deathened” snarls adding to the rotten sound, but Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back is black metal through and through: Útgarðar offers their caustic and vicious interpretation of unholy trinity of blastbeats, shrieks, and tremolo. Refusing to settle into monotony, the duo manages a ritualistic flare and doomed atmosphere that makes it hard to shake, as the frost of the Scandinavian pines and the solemnity of the setting sun are felt in every movement.
Útgarðar utilizes a powerful and simple approach, balancing memorable melody, caustic blackened attacks, and ritualistic doom – tied together into dynamic songwriting. While intro “The Pyres of Utgard” offer the former two in a vicious track whose only reprieve is the haunting clean vocals buried behind slower passages, “Ymir Awakens” and “Trolls of Muspel Trolls of Frost” are clear centerpieces, brimming with tension between its ambient lulls, vicious tremolo, and doom weight – even the ambient passages feature subtle percussion injecting a fire throughout. This continues into the more subdued closers, “Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back” and “Under Soil,” in which ritualistic atmosphere takes front and center, such as in the pulsing percussion and shamanistic chants of the title track or the rotten ambient sprawl of the album closer. While balance is a clear priority for Útgarðar, each cut features a distinct melodic motif that adds to the memorability of the album, as the cleans of the title track or the guitar/vocal melodies of “Under Soil” elevate an otherwise despondent set of tracks.
There are no directly negative tracks within Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back, and largely Útgarðar’s only sin is its inconsistent mood. The contrast between the fiery second-wave of “The Pyres of Utgard” and the shamanistic despair of “Under Soil” is stark. While the best-of-both-worlds “Ymir Awakens” and “Trolls of Muspel Trolls of Frost” smoothen this transition in what would be an album-long dynamic, they settle neatly into three separate approaches instead. The highlights are so because of their haunting blend of energy and atmosphere, while the closing tracks dispel with much of the energy while the opener foregoes atmosphere. In a way, the album then feels like a Viking Venn diagram, with the centerpieces constituting the near-perfect overlap.
That’s not to say that Útgarðar shoots themselves in the foot, because I haven’t quite experienced the haunting and evocative quality of Asatro-themed black metal that actually feels authentic and organic the way Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back does. It plays it relatively safe in terms of the second wave, but its infusion of doom filth and ritualistic primacy simply adds up to this: a damn good black metal album. While moods are disparate, you won’t care because every one of them is accomplished with rotten grit and otherworldly darkness undergirded by tense Norseman violence. Furious black metal, ritualistic menace, and mammoth weight have a weapon in this particular Ragnarök, and you’ll be glad to die by Odin’s side for Útgarðar.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: ATMF Records
Website: facebook.com/Útgarðar
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024
#2024 #35 #AltarsOfTheMoon #ATMFRecords #BlackMetal #BlackenedDoomMetal #Blackest #Feb24 #FireSmokedUponTheWolfSBack #InternationalMetal #Review #Reviews #Seid #SerpentOmega #Uada #Útgarðar #Veiled
Bokassa – All Out of Dreams Review
By GardensTale
On the surface, the perceived lethargy of stoner metal doesn’t seem like a natural match for the reckless energy of punk. But the two genres have been roommates since college and still bunk together regularly. The soundtracks of Jackass and Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater mixed them up freely, and bands like Clutch and Fu Manchu have plenty of popularity on both sides of the fence. When I saw Rise Against in March of 2011, they brought Coliseum, who fused stoner, hardcore, and punk into one. So I wasn’t particularly surprised at Bokassa’s self-appointed genre of stoner punk. I was more surprised, and apprehensive, at Lars Ulrich of all people giving them the seal of approval. Do they live up to the high praise of Metallica’s third-best drummer?
If nothing else, the genre descriptor is apt, though anyone hoping for a bucket of garage grime will need to look elsewhere. Bokassa drapes light stoner riffs à la Fu Manchu over a simplistic pop-punk framework. Musically it’s closer to latter-day Rise Against or even Sum 41 than Dead Kennedys or The Exploited. There’s not much gritty DIY in the production either, which is reasonably polished and not too loud, though the snare is a tad aggressive in the mix.1 The result exceeds the term accessible; if rock was still played on the radio, Bokassa wouldn’t feel out of place on an average alternative station. The only disqualifying factor might have been the gruff vocals, a smoother version of Orange Goblin with the occasional gang woah-ohs.
If this description sounds disparaging, you’re not entirely wrong. Bokassa goes straight for the lowest common denominator, eschewing anything cerebral for the sake of easy absorption. But that’s what they’re good at: you’ll know over half the choruses by heart after a single spin, even (or especially) those that are aggressively dumb, like “Gung Ho” or “Straight Edgelord.” For better or worse, this is music made for skate stunt compilation videos and backyard parties that’ll have the neighbors complaining. As such, the best tracks are those with high energy and infectious riffs, and the front half is packed with those. “The Ending Starts Today” fumbles the chorus with some ill-advised mumbling but has otherwise no shortage of spirit, and “Garden of Heathen” (featuring Lou Koller of Sick of it All) is catchier than it has any right to be. The band even tackles January 6th with the fun “Let’s Storm the Capitol.”2
Bokassa does like to mix it up with some slower tunes, though, and that doesn’t always work in their favor. “Gung Ho” is easy to remember but its repetitive mid-pace makes it a slog, and the awkward title track lurches confusingly between different mismatched tones. There are energy drains in the vocal department as well: as the vocals work best when they’re raucous and self-assured, the mood drops whenever the rather lethargic cleans pop up, whether in solo droning intonations or unenthusiastic group whooping. Strangely, despite slowing things down and including lethargic clean vocals for the refrain, the full-blown doom closer “Crush (All Heretics)” does manage to charm. A solid Black Sabbath riff pulls that cart, and the hummed chorus adds a layer of mystery. It’s a weird closer for a stoner punk album, but it does help pull it together at the finish line.
9 out of 10 times I’ll commend a band for attempting to include different moods, angles, and energeticnesses across their album. All Out of Dreams takes a swing at this philosophy, but Bokassa has a very particular set of skills, and flounders whenever they try to spread their wings. It’s not a bad album at all; it’s catchy as hell, and at least half the tracklist is ready to be plundered for party playlists. The tight editing and short duration support the fun factor, and you can do much worse for a quick bout of low-brow punk energy with fuzz. There are just a few too many dings to recommend the entire package with my full throat. If Bokassa tries to switch up fast with even faster next time, we might get better results.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Indie Recordings
Websites: bokassaband.bandcamp.com | bokassaband.com | facebook.com/bokassaband
Releases Worldwide: February 16th, 2024
#25 #2024 #AllOutOfDreams #BlackSabbath #Bokassa #Clutch #Coliseum #DeadKennedys #Feb24 #FuManchu #IndieRecordings #Metallica #NorwegianMetal #OrangeGoblin #PunkRock #Review #Reviews #RiseAgainst #SsickOfItAll #StonerMetal #Sum41 #TheExploited
Nemedian Chronicles – The Savage Sword Review
By Iceberg
Storytelling is intrinsic to the passage of knowledge from generation to generation. Within our steel-forged corner of the multiverse, a few subgenres tackle storytelling overtly: most often prog but also, as is the case today, power metal. Coming into this review, I was under the impression that the story of Conan the Barbarian was confined to the plot line of an old Arnold movie—I couldn’t have been more mistaken. The Hyborian Age is a sprawling prehistoric world designed by Robert E. Howard in the 1930s, set between the fall of Atlantis and the rise of traditional history. Enter French band Nemedian Chronicles and their 70-minute slab of sword and sorcery, ripped straight from the pages of Howard’s tales. Intrigued by the high fantasy concept—and baited by an Ennio Morricone namedrop—I dove headfirst into their debut album The Savage Sword.
Nemedian Chronicles play a brand of power metal in the vein of Hammerfall and Blind Guardian, with a bit of the barbarian stomp of Manowar and the epic sweep of Atlantean Codex. The band is organized in a classic Maiden twin-axe attack formation, supported by a gorgeously arranged orchestral backdrop. Alexandre Duffau puts on a vocal masterclass, with a reedy low register that transitions into powerful full-throated highs, especially when paired with another vocalist (“Born on a Battlefield,” “The Song of Red Sonja”). The rest of the band rarely misses a step in their performances, and their prowess is on full display in album highlight “Black Lotus/The Curse of Thog,” which takes me back to “Egypt” and “The Death of Balance/Lacrymosa” from Symphony X’s V; one of the highest bars in epic power metal as far as this writer is concerned.
Good performances are only one half of a successful concept album, and luckily for Nemedian Chronicles their strongest asset is their ability to sonically immerse the listener in their world. Opener “Nemedian Chronicles” nails the requisite concept album introduction with thunderous tribal drums and orchestrals bolstering a scene-setting monologue; I’m reminded of the beginning of Aeternam’s Heir of the Rising Sun, but even more cinematic in scope. A treasure horde of music follows, from anthemic choruses (“Born on the Battlefield,” “The Thing in the Crypt,” “The Song of Red Sonja”) to triple-time sea shanties (“Tigress of the Black Coast”) to an abyssal of terror in “Black Lotus/The Curse of Thog.” Credit to bassist Guillaume Lefebvre here with not only his stringed duties, but also writing all the music and lyrics, the latter of which frequently directly describe Conan’s exploits. Fans of the source material will find a lot to love here, and anyone who likes to follow clear stories in their music will experience the same.
For all the accolades I lay upon The Savage Sword, I see areas of improvement for the Frenchmen. The biggest, and perhaps most obvious one, pertains to bloat. Nemedian Chronicles’ issue isn’t so much the quality of material that needs to be jettisoned, but the repetition of it (“Monsterslayer,” “The Song of Red Sonja”). Another issue—and your mileage may vary here—is the setting of the lyrics. Alexandre Duffau is clearly an accomplished vocalist, but the sheer amount of words that need to be delivered often seems to overpower the rest of the music for the benefit of the plot; the 9-minute “Tower of the Elephant” is especially at fault here. There’s also a peculiar tendency for the band to suddenly shift the tempo or meter from verse to chorus, which makes some tracks a bumpier listen than I’d prefer (“Tower of the Elephant,” “Tigress of the Black Coast,” “Stygian Sons of Set”).
These most nit of picks aside, Nemedian Chronicles hit all the right notes for me when it comes to memorable power metal. When the closing tribal drums of “The Road of Kings” bring the album full circle, I’m left much more inspired than drained. Listening to this record led me to research the world Robert E. Howard built, which enriched subsequent spins. This is a mightily strong debut from a skilled outfit, and with some tightening in the lyrical and editing departments, Nemedian Chronicles could easily lay siege to our much-vaunted safety counter. I heartily recommend The Savage Sword for fans of the comics or power metal in general; keep an eye on these guys.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: No Remorse Records | facebook.com
Website: facebook.com
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024
#2024 #35 #Aeternam #AtlanteanKodex #BlindGuardian #EpicMetal #Feb24 #FrenchMetal #Hammerfall #Manowar #NemedianChronicles #NoRemorseRecords #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #SymphonicPowerMetal #SymphonyX #TheSavageSword
Ponte del Diavolo – Fire Blades from the Tomb Review
By Dolphin Whisperer
I would love to visit Turin, Italy. Besides hosting one of my new favorite punk bands (The Turin Horse) who released an album with truly inspired artwork, the city’s cultural exhibits include the controversial Shroud of Turin, an artifact which may or may not have graced the dead body of Jesus. In many older cities throughout Europe, religion still plays a central role either explicitly or implicitly in the culture, even if just through the existence of tourist-fixating fixtures like cathedrals and dead guy blankets. In construction too, the opposite of holiness exists, such as that of the ponte del diavolo—the “devil’s bridge”—a medieval stone arch bridge, usually a severe arch at that. Perhaps inspired by one such feature that crosses the stura di lanzo, and a healthy fascination with the Devil, Ponte del Diavolo summons a tongue-out punk attitude with black metal and occult rock leanings to stir Fire Blades from the Tomb into existence—a new attraction for the fine city of Turin.
Having spread the spectrum of their influences across a few EPs, Ponte del Diavolo reigns in the fettering ambience and shriekier black metal extremes of their formative work for this debut full-length. In this regard, these witchcraft-worshipping Italians come across like a punk-edged, tremolo riff-informed Sabbath Assembly, with mic-echantress Erba del Diavolo capturing the same essence of cult-fearing warble that a fervent Jamie Meyers possesses. Except Meyers doesn’t speak Italian—Ponte del Diavolo leans on their native tongue for a majority of the album, and Miss Diavolo feels even more wild in expression on those tracks as a result. Though, the departure from that on the closing cover of Nick Cave’s “Weeping Song,” an unexpected duet with Shores of Null vocalist Davide Straccione, lands just as effectively. Oh, and did I mention this band has two bassists?
Don’t fret though, mood is the name of the game here. Ponte del Diavolo’s double low-end assault doesn’t render as jazzy madness so much as it creates the kind of effect that a band like Kylesa desires with two drummers—a doubled rhythmic presence that splinters in warped ways. While one bassist keeps a rock steady thump, the other might flit about in higher string fills between tremolo guitar runs (“Covenant,” “La Razza”) or recall a riff after it snakes down a different path (“Nocturnal Veil”), all recalling the bouncing energy of post-punk swings. And when these swelling tunes take a turn down the path of echoing occult rock refrains, guest instruments like a bellowing bass clarinet (“Red as the Sex of She Who Lives in Death,” “Nocturnal Veil”) or a screeching Theremin (“Covenant”) cut through the incensed air to increase the atmospheric hypnosis.
But more than just these eclectic touches, though moments across Fire Blades can ring self-similar, Ponte del Diavolo expresses tone in shifting, subtle ways to maintain freshness throughout. In many songs, this comes down simply to vocal choices that add character to the already snarling and charming tones that del Diavolo conjures. Quick swings into sharp highs (“Covenant”), the sardonic “la la la la la la la la la” of “Red as the Sex…,” whinnying inflections that pepper verses (“Covenant,” “Zero”)—her bags of tricks gives and gives. Conversely, guitarist Nerium stitches together phrases from a more limited repertoire but with tones ranging from chiming and wobbly (“Red as the Sex…”) to twanging and weighty (“Nocturnal Veil”) to cutting and frosty (“Demone”) to give each song a its own little wrinkle.
Ponte del Diavolo focuses foremost on the sultry, slow burn that they can imbue amongst their various identities. In its focus on tension and release through call and ritual, Fire Blades from the Tomb can hit a bit understated when it’s not in full punky black metal mode—but then again it’s not really much of a black metal album. The album’s aggression functions merely as a link between its trembling croons and its ungodly incantations with Ponte del Diavolo aiming for a jam-laden, occult doom akin to their countrymates Messa.1 And while this full-length debut may lack the intensity of success for true greatness in its six original statements and one borrowed tune, stepping away from its mystic grip never crosses my mind. Can someone please buy me a ticket to Turin already?
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist | Bandcamp
Websites: facebook.com/pontedeldiavolo | pontedeldiavolo666.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 16th, 2024
#2024 #35 #BlackMetal #DoomMetal #Feb24 #FireBladesFromTheTomb #ItalianMetal #Kylesa #Messa #NickCave #OccultRock #PonteDelDiavolo #postPunk #Punk #Review #Reviews #SabbathAssembly #SeasonOfMist
Far Beyond – The End of My Road Review
By Eldritch Elitist
In 2016, Far Beyond’s A Frozen Flame of Ice felt like a big deal. The sophomore outing of one Eugen Dodenhoeft saw his budding solo project, having originated as rough-hewn symphonic black metal, blossom into massively ambitious melodeath with a pioneering work of post-debut Wintersun knock-offery. It’s a somewhat clunky effort, but a lively and lovable one, and one whose charms have prompted several return visits over the last decade. While impressive and novel for its time, many a band has since come knocking at the sauna door, and the sheer quality of acts like Æther Realm, Atavistia, and Brymir have dispelled my desire for möre Mäenpää mäteriäl entirely. Far Beyond needed refining to keep pace with Dodenhoeft’s peers, and with The End of My Road being picked up for release by Prosthetic Records, I was optimistic for a culmination of his obvious potential. Instead, I find myself perplexed as to how the eight-year hibernation of a clearly skilled and passionate individual led to… this.
If nothing else, Far Beyond still sounds like Far Beyond, and Dodenhoeft captures a distinct sound despite his obvious primary influence. His otherworldly atmosphere of triumph over melancholy remains unaltered, and if anything, The End of My Road is more atmospheric than its predecessor. This is still melodic death metal to be sure, with the initially exhilarating opening of “From the Stars and the Crescent Moon” presenting as solid of a riff as has ever graced the genre. Bursts of speed such as this one typically feel short-lived, with the record favoring to immerse the listener in its bombastic vibes, born from synthetic choirs and strings layered over unassuming mid-paced material. If the aesthetic of that giant soundscape is all you want out of a Far Beyond album, then that may be enough to warrant a purchase.
But for me, oh my god, The End of My Road is just boring. I typically place a finer point on my initial shots of criticism, but anything less blunt would not effectively convey my frustrations. Its songs often start relatively strong, yet quickly degrade into bland riffs which form the bulk of its bloated and disjointed structures. These compositions might have been palatable if they wielded the emotional ebb and flow that Far Beyond’s longest songs formerly possessed. With this record, they are defined by random shifts in tone and volume, accompanied by melodies devoid of impact and drama. The synthetic orchestrations and choirs draped over everything have increased exponentially to compensate, and are so prevalent that they add nothing to the music but an inescapable sense of artificiality. In its writing and aesthetic, The End of My Road is mind-numbing, and I struggle to recall a stretch of it that I enjoyed for more than a few moments.
What little enjoyment I might have mined from the depths of The End of My Road is stomped back into the dirt by its engineering. I had hoped that Prosthetic’s involvement would have rectified Far Beyond’s minor production woes; instead, they have been amplified and compounded with new issues. Where the guitars of A Frozen Flame of Ice were refreshingly raw relative to Far Beyond’s symphonic aspects, they now feel absolutely edgeless, and the overly cranked electronic and symphonic elements further dull their presence. The programmed drums fare even worse, being so diminished in the mix that they are more often vaguely felt than properly heard. It’s the clean vocals, however, which are this record’s death knell. Dodenhoeft isn’t exactly a gifted singer, but he formerly found success working within his limitations. Here, his cleans have not only taken a noticeable hit in power, but are also the loudest fucking thing in the mix, often feeling twice as loud as even the overbearing symphonics.
When I take a step back and tabulate my many gripes, I’m left genuinely dismayed at my own impression of The End of My Road. As with any negative review, my criticisms stem from a fundamental disagreement between myself and the artist on what constitutes good music, but so much of Dodenhoeft’s past material is so compelling that my disconnect, in this case, vexes me. And it’s not like this is a fundamental departure; the End of My Road is unmistakably a Far Beyond production, just worse. I don’t doubt that this album will retain Far Beyond’s cult following, and I hope that one day I can listen to it with fresh ears and join the inevitable chorus. I’m still looking forward to hearing wherever this project goes next, but based on this release, an eight-year release gap is now a much easier prospect to stomach.
Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records Official | Bandcamp
Websites: farbeyond.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/FarBeyondMusic
Releases Worldwide: February 16th, 2024
#15 #2024 #FarBeyond #Feb24 #GermanMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SymphonicDeathMetal #TheEndOfMyRoad
Mistigram: a couple of days ago it was greeting cards. Today, it’s Trading Card day! (Tomorrow… Tarot card day?) These are good but I know what I have. I’ll trade your Mickey Mantle for my Joe Shlabotnik! This #ANSIart screen in honor of the occasion was drawn by AdeptApril for Storm BBS.
Darkest Hour – Perpetual | Terminal Review
By GardensTale
How deep is your backlog of albums you intend to give a full spin sometime, but you never get round to it? I couldn’t even begin to tally mine. One of the albums that has languished in this limbo is Godless Prophets & the Migrant Flora, the previous release from melodeath veterans Darkest Hour. I remember liking the slice I tried, but with so much to listen to and so little time I failed to give it my full attention. Grymm sure loved it, though, and in his absence, I was more than happy to step up and finally give the band the attention they deserved from me.
Throughout its illustrious discography, Darkest Hour has wandered the grey area between melodic death metal and metalcore. Perpetual | Terminal is no major departure in that regard, drawing primarily from classic Gothenburg melodeath and embellishing with more core-oriented passages. I got a chuckle from the similarity between the eponymous opener’s intro and that of Amon Amarth’s “Deceiver of the Gods,” but was soon caught up in the track’s furious energy and lethal execution. The album is an absolute treasure trove of At The Gates-style riffs and early In Flames melodic harmonies, including a bevy of awe-inspiring solos, and the band was clever enough to pack these predominantly in the short, high-energy tracks that break up the longer, more dynamic pieces. “Societal Bile” unleashes a flurry of stop-start riffs bound to make you stumble, “The Nihilist Undone” packs a punch with D-beat adjacent drum assaults and “My Only Regret” somehow crams one of the sweetest solos on the album inside a 2-minute track.
Metalcore doesn’t have the best reputation, to chance an understatement, but Darkest Hour is most at home when both sides of its identity operate in harmony. “One With the Void” has an emotional core that shines in the melodic chorus but lends extra impact to the bludgeoning verses that approximate Fallujah-style deathcore. Further down the tracklist, the album peaks with the bleak “New Utopian Dream” where the refrain gradually builds to a crescendo as the sardonic vocals hurl ‘to suffer is to be free’ into the ether. When the scales tip too far into metalcore trope territory, though, the result can get pretty mawkish, such as the brief but embarrassing megaphone rant in “Societal Bile.” This is thankfully not frequent, depending somewhat on your tolerance for anything -core related, and the only big dud is “Mausoleum.” The grand, melodic choruses are fine but the verses rival Staind for the most mopey balladry this side of the millennium.
So exceptions aside, the songwriting is solid as a rock. What sets Darkest Hour apart from the endless parade of bands playing this style is the execution. Various levels of vocal distortion keep the music lively and change up the impact so you don’t phase out, and the guitars alternate between tight riffs and fluid melodicism with ease. The highlight amongst the cast is the ferocious assault on the drumkit, encompassing great technical ability, indomitable energy and imaginative play with fills and off-beat notes. It’s no wonder the drums got a more prominent place in the mix than usual, though the bass is sadly relegated to a bit part. The production is overall commendable; the sharpness of the drums can feel a smidge overbearing, but a good mix and nice, crunchy guitar sound make up for a lot.
My research indicates Darkest Hour has had advocates and detractors through every stage of their career, but always more of the former than the latter. Though I haven’t done a deep dive into their entire discography, I can’t imagine Perpetual | Terminal disappointing anyone who’s already a fan, and all but the most anaphylactically metalcore-allergic should give it a shot as well. It may not fully dodge all the cliches, but there is no faulting a band so rich in skill and energy, capable of these inescapable barrages of riffs and solos, written into such a tight, lean, and lethal format. Darkest Hour have another winner on their hands.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: MNRK Heavy
Websites: officialdarkesthour.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/darkesthourdudes
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024
#2024 #35 #AmericanMetal #AmonAmarth #AtTheGates #DarkestHour #Fallujah #Feb24 #InFlames #MelodicDeathMetal #Metalcore #MNRKHeavy #PerpetualTerminal #Review #Reviews #staind
By Steel Druhm
Sometimes a promo one-sheet actually does its job and gets you incredibly curious to hear something. That was the case with Ireland’s unusual death metal act Vircolac. I had no knowledge of them, but the one-sheet made it sound as if I had to hear their sophomore release Veneration or risk missing out on something unique and special. Steel hates missing out on something good as much as the next Viking gorilla, so I grabbed it and stashed it in the Jungle Room. The trials and tribulations began soon thereafter. You see, Vircolac are a very tough bird to pigeonhole with a sound ranging from OSDM to crust, doom, and several niche places in between. They’re not so much proggy as they are fucking crazy, and Veneration is all over the damn map in an unpredictable, haphazard way that feels devoid of a plan or blueprint. It’s filthy and ugly, but there are rare moments of unexpected beauty and grandeur too. In a nutshell, it’s a hot, soupy mess.
Things open with ” The Lament (I Am Calling You) ” which is 100% pure Celtic folk music with passionate female singing and sawing strings. It’s primal, powerful, and leaves a big impression. As it fades out with increasingly frantic, unsettling strings, you’re launched abruptly into the gaping maw of vicious death that is the title track. It’s scuzzy, punky death in the vein of Autopsy with abrasive riffs and gruesome vocals tearing at your ear flesh. Over the next 5 minutes, Vircolac deliver a series of aural experiences that don’t always seem to be part of the same song. At one point the bruising death lapses into something that sounds a lot like recent Dark Tranquillity, only to stumble into moments that feel like the early Hellmammer demos from the 80s. It’s a wild ride for sure. Is it a good one though? Tough to say. “Repentant” is also chaotic, abrasive crust-death but this gives way to large Black Royal-esque power grooves that shake the rafters. It’s wild and woolly and there’s good stuff going on, but as with the title track, segments feel pasted together with boogers and bubble gum without rhyme or reason.
Then there are the mammoth tracks like “Our Burden of Stone on Bone” where the band really cuts loose with their Build-a-Bear song construction using extra glue, glitter, and googly eyes. As before, there are interesting pieces to this musical Frankenstein, but the madcap way they stitch things together makes for a tough listening experience. Transitions are like jump cuts in some artsy-farsty try-hard indie movie and nothing seems to develop logically. They latch onto a cool riff or groove and then leap into something unrelated without warning. Many of these jumps are between blasting death and plodding doom segments. While Incantation do these kinds of transitions seamlessly, Vircolac can not or will not. This gives the listener musical whiplash and makes it challenging to stay focused on the madness. Nearly 9-minute closer “She is Calling Me (I. War II. Death III. Redemption)” is better, with a somewhat more linear direction, but it too suffers from the band’s ADHD composition style. At a slim 36-plus minutes, Veneration ends up feeling much longer due to the disorganized writing. I struggle mightily to absorb the album in one sitting, usually bailing around the halfway point to go listen to something less chaotic and challenging, like Archspire.
The players here are talented enough. Brendan McConnell uncorks some blistering, dissonant riffs and also offers some gonzo soloing. Some of his playing is actually quite striking and at times, beautiful. He’s a Renaissance man of sorts and his playing is easily the most interesting thing going on here. Darragh O’Laoghaire comes from the Chris Reifert school of rabid wolfman vocals and he goes all in at all times. He’s a good death vocalist, but his somewhat one-note croaking feels out-of-synch with the wildly shifting music at times. It’s the songsmithing that really derails the journey here, with a completely undisciplined, tumultuous style that tests the listener’s resolve.
Veneration is a tough album to grasp and an even tougher one to score. There’s so much going on that it becomes difficult to process. The core style is well within my wheelhouse and there’s a lot of potential, but it isn’t fully realized. With some smoothing and a modicum of focus, I could see Vircolac being a deadly force. For now, they’re just a sanity destabilizing one. Mileage may vary for the criminally insane.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dark Descent
Websites: vircolac.bandcamp.com/album/veneration | facebook.com/vircolacdeathmetal
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024
#25 #2024 #Autopsy #DarkDescentRecords #DeathMetal #Feb24 #Incantation #IrishMetal #Review #Reviews #Veneration #Vircolac
Client Info
Server: https://mastodon.social
Version: 2025.07
Repository: https://github.com/cyevgeniy/lmst