Deathrite – Flames Licking Fever Review

By Alekhines Gun

Written By: Nameless_N00b_85

Sometimes it’s not about the brutality or the speed, it’s about the pizzazz. German band Deathrite began life as OSDM worship in 2010, before attempting to make their own mark by incorporating more punk riff simplicity and black metal atmospheres into one vile brew. Now, they stand poised to deliver their fifth outing, the oddly titled Flames Licking Fever, and the idea of such a trifecta of sounds certainly tickles the earballs. Do the ingredients come together in a potable stew, or should these flavors remain separated from each other for good?

Flames Licking Fever is drowning in atmosphere which lends it a clear auditory identity, and any one song, chosen at random, would convince you that you’d stumbled on something special. The slightly reverbed vocals and spaced instruments give it a flavor adjacent to the Icelandic black metal scene, particularly Svartidauði. This gives the more punk-flavored riffs an engaging auditory palate, particularly in the stuttering echoes and classic rock-tinged twang of “Gallows Trail.” Solos, when present, are engaging and enjoyably shreddy and vocalist Tony Heinrich howls with a more clean, thrash-oriented tone, which is well-suited to the echoing nature of the production. The whole package makes for excellent background music while cleaning or spending time with friends with its accessible tones, mid-paced chugs and gentle echoes, and if that sounds like a good time for you, this might be up your alley.

If you, however, think “excellent background music” is damning with faint praise, you are right on the money, as Flames Licking Fever is catastrophically boring. The entire compositional backbone of Deathrite consists of taking the more mid-paced heft of Mammoth Grinder or Genocide Pact and riding simplistic grooves well past their expiration point. Every song here except “Misanthropic Rush” is played at the same “brisk walk with a loved one” tempo, with minimal variations of bpm or rhythmic progression to keep things interesting. Opener “Crippled Ego” briefly deceives with its almost industrial-like intro of blast beats and cold, computer-like guitar tones, but this, alas, turns out to be one of the very few moments of energy in an otherwise morose presentation. From time to time a tired, trem-lead rears its head, but is invariably swallowed up in the atmosphere of the album due to its exhausted-sounding, bleary pace.

It doesn’t help that compositionally, Flames Licking Fever has precisely two tricks to keep the listener engaged: the occasional time signature shift, and an almost Beethoven-esque affection for trills. Making the strange track sequencing/compositional choice to end a song with a slow, boring chug or riff, only to open the very next song with an equally boring chug or riff, Deathrite compensate by attempting to trick the listener into thinking something interesting is about to happen by deftly switching from a 2/4 to a 3/4 time (“Flames Licking Fever,” “Bottomless Graves”), and crescendoing just a bit. Alas, each of these builds invariably return to more boring riffs. The riffs themselves are often punctuated by trills, most egregiously in “A Slave to a Poisoned Soul”, which neatly divide measures without adding anything to the overall composition. Eventually, the listener realizes this is the only musical flourish waiting for his ears, and the trills wear as thin as the riffs themselves. There’s certainly nothing wrong with time signature changes or trills, and many bands use them to great effect. However, the abominable simplicity of Deathrite’s toolkit only exacerbates the equally abominable simplicity of their riffcraft.

Like a water balloon being tossed at a brick wall, Flames Licking Fever comes and goes into our lives without leaving any real impact. There is no standout moment here; no particularly great riff, no song worth rewinding over, no air guitar-inducing enthusiasm or grunt-along-in-the-shower vocal phrasing, and beyond the excellent artwork, certainly no pizzazz. There is instead a collection of mid-paced, okay-caliber death adjacent punk riffs. Other than their efforts at a “grand finale” of a closing track, you could even consume the album on shuffle and not dramatically change the listening experience. If you need something peaceful to enjoy while doing your dishes or unwinding after a hard day at work, you might have found a winner here—otherwise there isn’t anything recommending this album over the rest of this year’s releases.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Into Endless Chaos Records
Websites: deathrite.bandcamp.com | de-de.facebook.com/deathrite666
Releases Worldwide: October 18th, 2024

#15 #2024 #Beethoven #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #Deathrite #FlamesLickingFever #GenocidePact #GermanMetal #IntoEndlessChaosRecords #MammothGrinder #Oct24 #OSDM #Punk #Review #Reviews #Svartidauði

Veonity – The Final Element Review

By Steel Druhm

Written by: Nameless_N00b_90

Do you believe power metal has become “too soft and synth-based?”1 Then Veonity has the solution for you—their sixth full-length album, The Final Element. These Swedes have been offering up their brand of late ‘90s power metal since 2013.2 And in 2020 Twelve covered their fourth album, Sorrows, noting that it was “a solid and enjoyable slab of power metal.” Veonity has undergone some crucial changes since they last graced these hallowed halls, notably the addition of vocalist Isak Stenvall (Lancer), which allows former vocalist Anders Sköld to focus solely on guitar. With the extra firepower that Stenvall provides, Veonity hopes to get you pumped up for their epic saga of power metal anthems.

The Final Element tells an epic fantasy tale, and the focus on narrative drives the album’s tone. Much of the story has the protagonist overcoming an obstacle or finding success, and the rousing music mirrors these themes. There’s a joyful mood reminiscent of what Fellowship plays on The Saberlight Chronicles. Some of these good feelings come from guitar riffs playing high, uplifting notes (“Carry On”, “Heart of a Warrior”). Stenvall is the main driver of these good feelings, though. He sings with such gusto on “Chains of Tyranny” that you can’t help but feel your spirit soar with the cry “Together we’ll break the chains of tyranny.”3 While Veonity isn’t billed as a Christian act, Christian imagery dominates much of The Final Element, which explains why Stenvall sounds so blissful relaying “My sacrifice will fulfill my destiny” and later invoking a Christ-like figure who will “Forgive all… sins” (“The Fifth Element”). He sounds downright angelic as the album reaches its conclusion, and he’s eventually backed by a choir that evokes the pearly gates of heaven.

The introduction of Stenvall as lead vocalist brings a significant change to Veonity’s sound. While Stenvall lacks Sköld’s vocal diversity, he’s a much better singer. His higher register is reminiscent of Fellowship’s Matthew Corry,4 and it brings a bouncy lightness to The Final Element. It’s not just the singing that’s improved, but Sköld and Samuel Lundström’s guitar work feels more energetic. They often let loose with furious shredding à la Dragonforce, setting a stirring tone early on and keeping a rollicking melody to accent Stenvall’s singing. Joel Kollberg’s double-kick drumming has some serious punch, turning your head into a speed bag when the pace grows frenetic. The bass (Kristoffer Lidre) sadly gets lost in the mix, but it sometimes rears its groovy head, like early in “Warrior’s Code.” Outside of the synths in the brief intro track, this is no-frills, meat ‘n’ taters power metal.

Veonity relies heavily on traditional song structures. It’s as though they’ve studied Songcraft 101 in as much depth as I’ve had to study Angry Metal Guy’s Guide to Not Sucking Anymore.5 All songs follow a classic (if formulaic) intro, verse, chorus, bridge, and finally, the chorus repeated a whole bunch. Writing within a time-tested formula isn’t necessarily bad, but it does put some constraints on the music. For one, Veonity heavily reins in their solos during the bridge, and while this helps fend off bloat, I miss the extended wankery that noted wanksters Ascension and Dragonforce employ. Cutting at least one rendition of the chorus in favor of lengthier solos would help the songs feel less repetitive. However, The Final Element has plenty of catchy choruses, and the use of a repetitive formula builds stronger anticipation when the songs hit their peaks. Writing within rigid structures also keeps the album nice and tight at 44 minutes.

At the conclusion of his review of Sorrows, Twelve wrote that “Veonity have a lot to offer the wonderful world of power metal.” Four years later, that’s even more true. Veonity has successfully revitalized its sound with fast and furious energy, vigorous guitar solos, and a fresh vocalist. The Final Element proves that you can stick to the moist bread-and-butter basics and still have a good time. Veonity may not top the masters of joyous power metal, but at least they give impatient Fellowship fans something to tide them over until The Skies above Eternity drops in late November.6

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Scarlet Records | Bandcamp
Websites: veonity.com
Releases Worldwide: October 18, 2024

#2024 #35 #Ascension #DragonForce #Fellowship #ItalianMetal #Oct24 #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #ScarletRecords #TheFinalElement #Veonity

Deivos – Apophenia Review

By Ferox

Written by: Nameless_N00b_89

Deivos is probably not the band you think of first when it comes to the vibrant Polish death metal scene. Vader? Sure. Behemoth?? Of course! Decapitated?! Absolutely–Winds of Creation is one of the best death metal debuts on record. I was surprised, then, to discover that Deivos has also stalked the scene for over 25 years, starting in 1997–and that Apophenia is the band’s seventh album since debuting Emanation from Below in 2006. Deivos is not a stranger to AMG, however. The mighty and missed Kronos reviewed their 2015 release, Theodicy, with little to say about any positive aspect of the album. Amply warned, and with six previous efforts from which to draw comparisons, I dove into Deivos’ catalog to see if Apophenia signaled a sign of evolution.

Deivos plays a form of death metal rife with rote brutality, which might explain their tenured anonymity. Tomasz Kołcoń’s and Piotr Bajus’ combined guitar assault, which drinks from the fount of headless brethren Decapitated, provides the requisite palm-muted chugs, infernally speedy riffs, frenetic soloing and squeaky pinch harmonics to warrant Deivos’ genre tag. Hubert Banach’s brutally gruff growls channel his inner Corpsegrinder effectively, while Stadnicki’s bass lurks beneath, surfacing with Obscura-like, low-end melodicism. Both complement the capable drum work of Krzysztof Saran, who blasts, bashes, and crashes his way through the nine tracks. While Apophenia doesn’t push the envelope or test any boundaries, there are some interesting glimmers within.

Deivos differentiate themselves by employing a sonic anomaly—the cowbell. No genre staple, this quirky bit of percussion features prominently on “Maelstrom of Decay” yet never disappears entirely, popping up here (“My Sacrifice”) and there (“Revelations,” “Persecutor”) throughout Apophenia. It’s an endearing aspect of the Deivos sound. The guitar work on opener “Feretory” sounds like an inverted take on Brodequin’s main riff from “Diabolical Edict” and makes for a compelling listen. At the same time, the bendy riff work, echoey solos, and background synths give “Sermon of Hypocrisy” a Morbid Angel feel. All things coalesce on the title track, “Apophenia,” with its sludgy, crunchy mid-section brutally bookended by pounding riffs, crushing drums, bestial vocals and two of the album’s better solos, which shred-fully shepherd the track through its pace changes.

If death metal was made of moist dough, Deivos would be the tool that cuts the cookies. Their career-encompassing aversion to adaptation and strict adherence to formula casts an “All-these-albums-sound-the-same” shadow on the catalog. Long-form songwriting is not where Deivos shines, but even when honing compositions within their three-to-five-minute wheelhouse, Deivos struggles to provide satisfying song arcs. Lackluster solos that feel tacked on (“My Sacrifice,” “De Materia Turpi”) or do nothing to move the song forward (“The Great Day of His Wrath”) further frustrate. Writing solid finishes is also something Deivos wrestles with. Tracks with abrupt endings conjure strong ‘this-seems-unresolved’ feelings (“Maelstrom of Decay,” “My Sacrifice”). At the same time, several tracks lean on the dreaded ambiently industrial outro to bring resolution (“De Materia Turpi,” “The Great Day of His Wrath,” “Persecutor”). These outros are my biggest nit to pick, not only because they take up two of the scant thirty-three minutes of the album but because they murder much of Apophenia’s momentum in the process.

Diehard Deivos fans may crown Apophenia as the band’s masterwork, and they might even be correct based on everything I’ve listened to. Deivos has certainly upped their game on Apophenia, even incorporating Lewandowski’s fantastic Angel of Death III painting as the cover art. Ironically, this decision aesthetically fits those pesky outros more than the band’s music, which still delivers a tight, brutally performed death metal package, rote as it may be. While I probably won’t return to it after I’m done here, I appreciated my time with Apophenia. I certainly enjoyed this more than Kronos did Theodicy. Two things I’d impart to Deivos: drop the superfluous industrial ambiance and, per the wise words of Christopher Walken, “I gotta have MOAR cowbell, baby!”

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Selfmadegod Records
Website: deivos.bandcamp.com|facebook.com/Deivos
Releases Worldwide: October 18, 2024

#25 #2024 #Apophenia #Behemoth #Brodequin #DeathMetal #Decapitated #Deivos #MOARCowbell #MorbidAngel #Obscura #Oct24 #PolishMetal #SelfmadegodRecords #Vader

Blackevil – Praise the Communion Fire for the Unhallowed Sacrament Review

By Felagund

I’ve long been a fan of blackened speed (speedened black?1) metal, with some of my favorite releases over the past few years falling into this most ferocious of subgenres. Bavaria’s own Blackevil scratched that specific itch with their sophomore effort Forever Baptised in Eternal Fire back in 2020. Thankfully, the mighty Holdeneye’s flowery prose perfectly captured my feelings about that record, and I’ve spent many an hour since then spinning that blasphemous little bundle of joy. This go-round, Holdy was gracious enough to offer me the opportunity to review Blackevil’s third release, the succinctly titled Praise the Communion Fire for the Unhallowed Sacrament. While I can’t be sure, I’m convinced I’m only writing this because our resident beefcake is busy bulking in anticipation of his winter hibernation. But I’m not one to look a gift blackened-speed-metal-album in the mouth!

For the uninitiated, Blackevil churns out a potent blend of melodic black metal and savage speed metal, interspersed with glimmering veins of thrash and traditional heavy metal for good measure. There are Iron Maiden-inspired gallops and searing solos, a crispy char of tremolos and blast beats, and a thick layer of blackened melody, with plenty of infernal shrieks to spare. But what’s perhaps most notable about their latest outing is just how much speed metal Blackevil have excised from the sound, opting instead for increasingly epic, mid-paced arrangements. This change more than any other sets Praise the Communion Fire for the Unhallowed Sacrament apart from Forever Baptised in Eternal Fire, and it’s a creative decision that has a dramatic impact on the entire album as a result.

Praise the Communion Fire for the Unhallowed Sacrament kicks off with “Timeless Throne,” a workhorse of an opening track if there ever was one, setting the tone for what ends up being a pretty consistent release. “Timeless Throne” boasts decent riffs, a reliably impressive vocal performance by frontman and bassist Abyss, and an overall approach that is neither flashy nor bold, but serves as an effective introduction to Blackevil’s sulfurous waters. The remaining six tracks each possess their own attention-grabbing characteristics, even if they are all variations of a theme. There are the pugnacious, harder-edged tracks with just the right amount of pummeling speed (“Divine Forces,” “The Gladiator”), mixed in between the more atmospheric tunes that prize mood over ferocity (“Beneath this Pentagram,” “Praise the Fire for the Sacrament”). These tonal shifts notwithstanding, it’s very clear that Blackevil is intent on streamlining their sound this time, and it’s a gutsy gamble that doesn’t always pay off.

This new streamlined sound is perhaps best embodied in Praise the Communion Fire for the Unhallowed Sacrament’s closing track “Towards the Carpathian Winter Battle,” a title Abbath is already kicking himself for not using. This nearly 11-minute behemoth features moody orchestration, trudging riffs, acoustics, and a build that never quite delivers. It’s a well-constructed, well-performed piece of music that nevertheless overstays its welcome while also lacking much of the essential dynamism that made Blackevil’s second album such an idolatrous joy to behold. It seems that in their eagerness to grow beyond the confines established by Forever Baptised in Eternal Fire, the band cast off much of the energy and immediacy that first set them apart. The feeling of homogeneity is further pronounced due to some unfortunate bloat. While this album and Forever Baptised in Eternal Fire both clock in at about 45 minutes, Praise the Communion Fire for the Unhallowed Sacrament is two tracks shorter. The result is a significantly weaker musical approach that can’t quite support the weight of longer songs.

If my criticisms seem unduly harsh, it’s important to mention that Praise the Communion Fire for the Unhallowed Sacrament remains an enjoyable, albeit flawed, listen (spin the penultimate track “Unknown Hands” if you don’t believe me). Because I know how capable Blackevil is of delivering the goods, I come away more frustrated than anything with this new musical direction. While I can’t fault a band for attempting to grow creatively, it’s unfortunate that in doing so, Blackevil felt the need to jettison so much of what made the band unique. Is the sound on Praise the Communion Fire for the Unhallowed Sacrament so dramatically different from Forever Baptised in Eternal Fire? On its face, no. But what was eliminated I’d deem essential, and dolling out a rating without considering that context seems borderline sacrilegious. May Holdeneye forgive me.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Websites: dyingvictimsproductions.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/blackevilmetal
Releases Worldwide: October 25th, 2024

#25 #2024 #Abbath #BavarianMetal #BlackMetal #Blackevil #DyingVictimsProductions #IronMaiden #Oct24 #PraiseTheCommunionFireForTheUnhallowedSacrament #Review #Reviews #SpeedMetal

Sleepless – Through Endless Black Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Bands who seek to echo heavy metal’s past walk a fine line between regressive repetition and studied homage. Consequently, in a world where source material for these sounds spans the course of decades, the tag indicating this new wave of traditional heavy metal remains wide in scope. Motorcycles? Loin cloths? Swords and dragons? What shall the recipe of hairy-chested riffs and wailing mic blowouts spell? In examining Oregon-based Sleepless’ sophomore outing, Through Endless Black, it’s at least clear that two things are true: the power of riffs indeed compels this collection to rock, and an urgent vocal identity fills its chest proudly. But the question still looms around what brand of traditional showmanship Sleepless displays.

Whether Sleepless knows it or not, their sound on Through Endless Black plays close to the weird power-leaning doom of the ’90s Swedish underground in its manner of rockin’ trad riffs that swing to crawling, soaring choruses. We talk about a lot of things around the water cooler at Casa AMG1, and though many of us don’t see eye-to-eye on the world at large, at least the great Steel and I can agree on one thing: too many bands ignore the potential to copy peak Tad Morose. Determined to set my heart aflutter, melodic leads that drop into heavyweight drags scattered throughout Through Endless Black recalls both the slower cuts of Tad Morose or the more traditional gallop of the similar-minded Memory Garden. Main mind Kevin Hahn, holding chops both in the grip of a traditional axe and tastefully reverbed mic, has spent a lot of time both on the cover band circuit2 and at the engineer’s seat, so I’m not sure that exactly his aim with Sleepless. But different paths can always lead to similar results.

Except not every track across Through Endless Black reeks of that same stench of doomy power, with Hahn’s vocal prowess serving equally as blight and boon. Simple and fluffy rock riffs, the kind that present themselves in the AOR-assisted jams of cruise groove like Fifth Angel, already pull attention away from muscular crushes at the least effective moments (“Cult of the Narcissist,” “Lessons in Tongues”). And in these same gentler excursions, Hahn’s clear and breathy tenor aids further in distancing his performance from the subtle grit and chesty bellow that he displays in horn-raising, fist-pumping amp-shakers (“Consumed by Vengeance,” “Dreams of Mortal Ruin”). Hahn has amazing range, and an incredible ability to lay down harmonized solos in a big Scorpions way, but it really does feel like he’s packing too many contrasting ideas into Sleepless.

However, many of Sleepless’ ’80s and ’90s traditional genre worship excursions come across in a more flattering manner. The best cuts across Through Endless Black lead with refrains drenched in guitar drama, dark synth play, and full volume chord swells, all resolving in well-framed choruses (“Call to the Void,” “Where Fear Lives,” “Dreams…”). And slipping well into the sleaze and heavy metal fervor of the grand and gruff W.A.S.P., Hahn loads an extra venom and swagger into his barking verse work and sliding wails (“Exist Another Day,” “Transcending the Obsidian Throne”), even landing in a ripe pseudo-ballad cheese with the opening chime and croon of “Lost Star.” The supporting rhythm tones aren’t quite what one would expect in this lane, relying less on spacious chords and reverb, and more on compressed guitar crackle and a low-end lurch, but that at least helps pull Sleepless away from pure homage and into foraging a sound in reverence.

Despite the success that Sleepless finds throughout Through Endless Black, a certain lack of wildness—of rugged bravado—holds it back from turning its glory into grandiosity. Steeped in studied sounds, Sleepless never feels wanting in execution. Though some of that same polish leads Through Endless Black to engorge with a textbook battlefield vigor, that same educational approach does not lead to many surprises and allows the lesser sputters present to pull down the total experience. I do have high hopes for Sleepless though, as a sophomore cobbling of this quality shows, potential, promise, and perhaps a sword simply too deep in its sheath.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Warrior Records
Websites: sleeplessmetal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/sleepless
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2024

#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #FifthAngel #HeavyMetal #MemoryGarden #Oct24 #ProgPower #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Scorpions #Sleepless #TadMorose #ThroughEndlessBlack #WASP_

Blasphemous – To Lay Siege and Conquer Review

By Alekhines Gun

Have you ever looked back on the grander, moister bands of yore and thought “Man, I sure do wish Immortal and Angelcorpse did an album together”? That’s okay, neither have I—apparently we have no imagination. Luckily, New Jersey blackened death outfit Blasphemous is prepared to uncork its fourth album, To Lay Siege and Conquer to show us what we’ve been missing. After releasing a pair of albums before breaking up in 2013, Blasphemous reformed with a refreshed lineup for 2018’s Emerging Through Fire, an album that seemed poised to make serious waves in the underground before a certain disease strolled up and ruined things for everybody. Fortunately, band founder/vocalist RK managed to keep the group together through the pandemic and got back to writing, and you can be assured the perpetuated lineup has paid serious dividends.

The first thing that caught the ear’s attention was how much better To Lay Siege and Conquer sounds than its predecessor. Whether by artistic intent or budgetary limitations, Emerging Through Fire had a much more raw, tinny, and thin approach, emphasizing the blacker half of the band’s sound at the cost of weight and power. To Lay Siege and Conquer has no such problems, crushing the listener with a modern productional heft worthy of Watain or Decrepit Birth and giving it the power of modern death without sacrificing an ounce of its blacker, acid-drenched melodies. Absolutely everything here is militant and bombastic, from the abused bass rumblings (“Son of the Forsaken”) to the attacked-by-killer-bees solos (“Spiritual Enslavement,” “Martyr Complex”), to RK’s constant vocal conducting, which rides atop but never drowns out the music. His performance in particular holds the album together, sounding like a much younger, far more pissed-off Thomas Lindberg (At the Gates), and though his vocal range may be a bit limited, his pitch manages to maintain its power and clarity without ever stagnating or growing boring.

To Lay Siege and Conquer is no vocalist’s grandstanding album, however, as Blasphemous takes a SWAT team approach to songwriting, with a “get in, wreck stuff, leave” mentality. Melodies and moments rarely repeat beyond their shelf life, instead evolving gradually around their melodic theme. The album’s title track is a prime example of this, with a rolling tank of a groove uncorked by Steve Shreve and Hal Microutsicos that alternates between rapid-fire tremolos and half-time chugs while drummer Mark Vizza adjusts his blasts to a thicker barrage to compensate. The drums are arranged to punctuate shifting riffs and intensity. Mark’s toolbox doesn’t really expand beyond the “blast, gallop, and groove” trifecta, but he masterfully ebbs and flows, pulling back into tasteful cymbal tempo-keeping as easily as uncorking an expected avalanche of snare abuse under leads that range from razor-sharp blackened harmonies to vaguely eastern flair (“Curse of the Witchchrist”) To Lay Siege and Conquer doesn’t want for a variety of engaging moments.

The only real flaw facing Blasphemous is consistency. Instead of being customarily frontloaded and fizzling out, To Lay Siege and Consquer is refreshingly bookended by its highlights, with the first and last two songs being the most engaging, while the middle stretch turns into a bit of a drag. Some of the slower moments (“Dead and Still” and “Martyr Complex”) remind of the punkier sounds of Sons of Northern Darkness without ever building to any kind of climax or theme, while “Spiritual Enslavement” can’t seem to decide what flavor it wants to be, causing otherwise effective riffs to lose momentum before the song suddenly ends. Still, Blasphemous wisely errs on the side of brevity, keeping things at a lean 29 minutes, before closing the album on a note of triumph with the anthemic closer, “Neverborn.”

To Lay Siege and Conquer is an enjoyable carpet bombing of riffy,[Ah yes, who doesn’t love a good… carpet… bombing? – AMG] throwdown, brodown blackened death goodness. Lovers of the style will undoubtedly find much to enjoy here, and Blasphemous is knocking on the door of something special. Maintaining the lineup has improved its cohesion and confidence, and the production highlights the power of the performances, ensuring many of the songs will level bars across the nation when played live. Keep an eye out for their fifth album to see if they can unlock the next gear in their compositional skills, and for now, enjoy laying siege to your neighbors.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: mp3
Label: Adirondack Black Mass
Websites: blasphemousphilly.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/blasphemousmetal
Releases Worldwide: October 25th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AdirondackBlackMass #AmericanMetal #Angelcorpse #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #Blasphemous #DeathMetal #DecrepitBirth #Immortal #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #ToLaySiegeAndConquer #Watain

Seid – Hymns to the Norse Review

By Steel Druhm

Written By: Nameless_N00b_86

Norse mythology is becoming increasingly prevalent in modern popular culture. Figures such as Thor, Odin, and Loki are now household names thanks to the popularity of Marvel movies, but many metal groups have drawn deeply from these legendary stories for decades. To them, they transcend surface entertainment value, ingrained with cultural and even religious identity. Hailing from Sweden, Seid seeks to explore the spiritual side of ancient Norse traditions and beliefs through pagan black metal. Their earlier material adhered closely to the second wave but gradually added Scandinavian folk influence to shape a more distinct character in recent years. Does fifth full-length Hymns to the Norse grant listeners a glimpse into an atavistic way of life or blend in with the vast sea of black metal out there?

Though folk-inspired, it’s tough to classify Hymns as anything other than black metal. There is no traditional folk instrumentation save for a sejd drum1 which, though advertised heavily in the album’s promo materials, is seldom utilized. The second-wave emulation is waning, with a result closer to Kampfar than Darkthrone. Chants appear frequently, either standalone (“Allfaðir,” “My Kingdom Come”) or subtly woven alongside founder/vocalist Seiðr’s rasps (“The End of Days”), making Hymns sound more like, well, hymns. Where Seid excels is reverently evoking nature, from Pär Johansson’s thunderous drumming to the echoing vocal effects that give the impression of sound bouncing off canyon walls.

Hymns does much with simple tools to build the desired atmosphere. It’s amazing how much potency a few sejd drum hits contribute to the intro of “White Beast from Hel,” and it’s a shame that the instrument isn’t leveraged more elsewhere. Other songs summon the spirit of a Viking whitewater rafting trip. “The End of Days” starts with a fantastic buildup of tremolos and blast beats and maintains momentum over nine minutes as the river winds through chaotic rapids and tranquil stretches. There’s a distinct moment in “Nordmænnens raseri” when the guitars abruptly cut off with a buzz and resume with a muffled, distorted sound for a few seconds, creating the sensation of being briefly plunged underwater. The outros are the main speed bumps to Hymns’ pacing–at times they suddenly shift to slow, trailing guitar lines (“Hymns to the North,” “Light up the Sky”), and “The End of Days” ends confusingly with a spacey synth tone that feels anachronous. These minor songwriting stumbles break immersion a bit, but not enough to seriously impair the experience.

The production choices are both boon and bane to the overall ambience of Hymns. The quality skews towards lo-fi, but it’s still clean enough that most of the elements are recognizable with little difficulty. Although this production style is divisive, It can be the right call for this type of music that seeks to replicate the lawless beauty of the natural world. However, the drums are too loud in the mix, especially the snare, so the plentiful blast beats tend to distract from everything else and grow tiresome over the otherwise reasonable 39-minute runtime. Such a preventable misstep is disappointing, as Pär Johansson is quite versatile behind the kit and is a big part of the success of Hymns.

Hymns to the Norse proves that Seid is adept at crafting solid black metal but seems hesitant to fully commit to the ritualistic elements that connect past to present. The sejd drum in particular has the potential to become a powerful and unique part of Seid’s identity that should be embraced more thoroughly in future songwriting. I have mixed feelings about the production–in many ways, it complements what Hymns is trying to accomplish but it straddles the line between raw and clean, making it feel slightly more amateur than deliberate. Regardless, the members of Seid have made progress in their mission to convey their history in a format more familiar to modern audiences.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: De Tenebrarum Principio
Websites: Bandcamp | norseblackmetal.com | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 18th, 2024

#2024 #30 #BlackMetal #DeTenebrarumPrincipio #FolkBlackMetal #HymnsToTheNorse #Kampfar #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #Seid #SwedishMetal

Slechtvalk – At Death’s Gate Review

By Twelve

Reviewing the newest release from a long-running band you’ve never heard of is one of the more interesting experiences I’ve had as a reviewer. Although Slechtvalk has been taking on the Dutch metal scene since 1999, I’d never heard of them before accepting this review. Really, all I had was a genre tag—black metal—and the difficult-to-ignore expectation that you get when a group has been around for as long as this Dutch trio. Could they live up to it? Of course they could—they’ve been around for a while, after all. Do they? Also yes, but let’s dive into the why.

On At Death’s Gate, Slechtvalk blend a number of styles held together by black metal string. From the moment opener “Paralysed by Fear” plays, you’re treated to a barrage of brutal, high-intensity metal, treading the line between black and technical death metal reminiscent of Symbolik. Later in the album, “The Destroyer” takes on a slower, but no less heavy approach, upping the death metal and incorporating elements of thrash. There are a couple of nods to power metal scattered throughout as well; in particular, “The White Raven” reminds me of Ensiferium. Rounding out the sound are touches of melodeath in the vein of Dark Tranquility, especially in “Fight ‘Till the End” and the well-placed keys used as accents throughout At Death’s Gate. Rarely are the songs slow; the black metal core of Slechtvalk is everywhere, but it feels wrong to call this a “black metal” album when there is much influence from other styles of music. Instead, At Death’s Gate features a well-rounded sound with a lot of adaptability that helps keep the listener engaged over its fifty-eight-minute runtime.

Like the (un?)fortunate fellow in the cover art1, you might find [At] Death’s Gate makes you feel a bit small; this is a towering work of metal that exudes power, energy, and confidence (not unlike the band photo below). The guitars from Shagmar and Seraph are doing all kinds of good work here, from adventurous riffing (“At Death’s Gate,” “Fight ‘Till the End”) to wild tremolos (“Paralysed by Fear”) and death metal chugs (“Night of the Locusts”). There’s nary a dull moment on At Death’s Gate thanks largely to the guitars alone. Largely supporting, keys and bass from Premnath are sparse and subtle respectively, with piano in particular adding a mystical, grandiose, or just plain pretty edge to the otherwise brutal music (especially effective on “Paralysed by Fear” and “Death”). Finally, Shagmar’s vocal performance is powerful, shifting deftly between screams, growls, roars, and Gregorian-style cleans. There’s a lot going on here, but the core sound of the album is of high-energy heaviness and is performed very well.

Really, if I can offer one critique of At Death’s Gate, it’s that I feel it’s trying to do too much. There are lots of little moments throughout that I find distracting or that weaken the flow of the whole. “Enshrouded,” for example, is a beautiful song, a slow, orchestra-heavy power ballad that I enjoy more in isolation than as part of an album or playlist. Whenever I listen to it, I’m confident it’s about to end when it’s only halfway through. When it does end, the immediate thrash leanings of “The Destroyer” are a shock, but not necessarily in a good way. A couple of other songs also feel too long; Slechtvalk could probably have taken a couple of minutes off of both “Heritage” and the title track to tighten up the album flow. As is, by the time I reach the closing track, I have at least some ear fatigue, and it doesn’t land like I know it should. At Death’s Gate is an album of many ideas, and amazing range, but there are a few moments where less may have been more.

On the whole, however, At Death’s Gate is a really strong, very fun album. It’s always a treat to experience black metal with such a breadth of ideas, personality, and style, and I’m already making notes to check out earlier releases in Slechtvalk’s discography. While I do wish for a stronger flow across the whole, there are no weak or bad songs, and I’ve enjoyed having it as an entry point to a band that clearly knows what they’re doing.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: MDD Records
Websites: slechtvalk.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Slechtvalk.metal
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2024

#2024 #30 #AtDeathSGate #BlackMetal #DarkTranquility #DeathMetal #DutchMetal #Ensiferium #Gregorian #MDDRecords #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #Slechtvalk #Symbolik

Mythbegotten – Tales from the Unseelie Court Review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

At their most well-behaved, members of the Fey Kingdom are mischievous. A wallet lost here, a child spirited away there, all good fun. But history has ever taught us that the Fey can, and will, be cruel. As per Scottish Folklore, it is there, in the Unseelie Court, where those malicious denizens of the Fey Kingdom dwell, and plot. Thus arrives New York-based newcomers Mythbegotten, here to divulge untold stories of what’s past the forest’s edge by reading from a musty old tome of Tales from the Unseelie Court. Mythbegotten promise a Tale unlike any other, but do they have what it takes to tell it?

Mythbegotten falls into the ever-vague category of “epic metal,” siphoning elements from folk, power, traditional, death, you name it, and weaving them into a grandiose musical experience. Varied though the palette can be, Mythbegotten’s bread and butter is a consistent folk/power affair that fits snugly between Blind Guardian, Twilight Force, and Euphoreon. There’s a healthy chunk of cheese amongst these Tales, but the focus is more on scale, with fun, tremendous choruses augmented by orchestration (“Omen of Embers,” “Of Wrath and Ruin”) and sweeping solos (“The Fall”). For a fresh, unsigned band, Mythbegotten sound great; the Tales are supported by a solid mix and Mythbegotten are talented musicians, but this highlights some rare inconsistencies in presentation. Sometimes the guitar work is tight as hell (“The Fall”) and other times it could be cleaned up a bit (the solo in “The Terror of Lothian”), and while the programmed drums sound good, some of the blast beats feel thin, but this never stops Mythbegotten’s epic amalgamation of musical styles from being easy to enjoy.

The themes and stories behind all the songs within these Tales are as diverse as the genre influences. Open any book on folklore to a random page and you’ll find something that the Tales draw from, and it’s in this thematic intent that Mythbegotten truly comes into their own. Mythbegotten exudes confidence in how heavily they lean into these inspirations which in turn informs the songwriting. As such, no two songs are quite the same; one song, “The Heedless Horseman,” is a cautionary tale of the malevolent Irish Dullahan told through a jaunty, tavern-friendly tune, while the next, “Omen of Embers,” matches the exuberance of the Arthurian legends it’s based on through a gleeful power-metal chorus. All good Tales are made better by an excellent storyteller, and that’s exactly what vocalist Dan Barbour is. His voice is rich and full-bodied, capable of hitting the high notes, and full of character in the lower octaves. He’s what you’d get if Messiah Marcolin had an evil power-metal twin, and is the perfect muse to tell these diverse and captivating Tales.

Mythbegotten’s strength lies in fully playing into a song’s individual narrative, but these narratives translate better in some songs than others. “Beneath Exham Priory” is a Lovecraft-inspired song with an extended midsection of rapidly evolving riffs and melodies that emulate the onset of Lovecraftian insanity, but they never arrive at a satisfying climax and end up feeling aimless. In cases like this, I wish Mythbegotten would go even bigger with their theming. “The Terror of Lothian” continues the thematic trend of horror and has some solid, crunchy riffs, but outside of the lyrics, it doesn’t embrace the premise with as much vigor as other songs. In their defense, these tunes are fighting an uphill battle against “Of Wrath and Ruin,” the 13+ minute closer that beats Pathfinder at their own game. It effortlessly brings to life The Return of the King’s Battle of the Pelennor Fields through triumphant melodies, galloping riffs, and downright badass guitar/keyboard duet solos, and sets a high precedent for what Mythbegotten can do when the narrative fully envelops the songwriting. It has also made me furious that only this song and “The Fall” have keyboard solos, because they are fantastic.

Mythbegotten are still a little rough around the edges, but their Tales from the Unseelie Court make for a damn good debut. These guys are natural-born storytellers, and the way they weave narrative into music is a joy to experience. Between exciting riffs, stupendous vocals and clever orchestration, Mythbegotten took a wide array of genres and made them their own, lacing them with enough mystery and curiosity to fill a dozen musty old tomes. I’m looking forward to what they do next, but I’ve gotta say: Mythbegotten, if you’re reading this, please, please give us more keyboard solos in the next one, yeah?

Rating: Good!!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self Release
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2024

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #BlindGuardian #EpicMetal #Euphoreon #FolkMetal #Mythbegotten #Oct24 #Pathfinder #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TalesFromTheUnseelieCourt #TwilightForce

Amputate – Abysmal Ascent Review

By Steel Druhm

Written By: Nameless_N00b_85

The indiscernible line between inspiration and imitation plagues writers, musicians, and artists of all stripes. While the Wormeds and Ulcerates of the world continue to ask what it means to be death metal in a modern context, entire scenes have sprung forth to celebrate the sound of the olde and trve, with the name of the game being “bigger and better” rather than raw in innovation. Swiss band Amputate finds themselves in the latter camp, poised to uncork a letter to the old school in the form of third album Abysmal Ascent. Their sophomore made its way through these very halls, with Doom et Al describing their efforts as “recycled.” This description poses an ironic challenge to this reviewer as we dive in to see whether Amputate has forged something with their own identity. Or, whether I must strive to not copy and paste my great predecessor’s review and be done with it.

The biggest improvement Abysmal Ascent offers is the production. In an about-face from the overly clean and blandly polished Dawn of Annihilation, Amputate have opted for an older, more direct approach. All guitars are recorded straight from their amps, and vocals have minimal effects, making the entire project sound pleasingly raw and organic, like a discount Vomitory or Gorement. This helps Amputate’s more chunky moments where their HM-2 flags fly highest (“Abysmal Ascent”, “Sepulcro”), with vocalist Tom Kuzmic doing his best “We have Erik Rundqvist (Vomitory) at home” approach. His growls, never going beyond competent in their extremity, are clearly piped straight from voice to recording, adding a layer of appreciability in their organic presentation. The DR of 7 allows bouncy, harmonized leads to shine (“Cavernous Temple of the Absurd”) as well as add thunk to the occasional bass solo (“Malevolent Manifestation”). Everything is catchy, deliberately designed, and inoffensive.

Inoffensive, however, best summarizes the whole of Abysmal Ascent. Amputate stretches a reasonable runtime of 39 minutes into a bland sheet of beige-colored audio that seems never-ending in its haze of riffs. The solos are enjoyable, melodic, and well-executed, and also enter the ears and leave the mind as soon as the song concludes (“Extractive Monolith”, “I Am Genocide”). It is telling that instrumental “Hybrid Organism” is the most interesting song on the album—not because of any weakness of the vocals, but because it forces Amputate to stretch their songwriting wings just a little bit. Otherwise, their insistence to adhere to the spirit of OSDM is their undoing, as each song sounds carefully constructed to sound like a facet of greater bands before them. From the crowd-friendly chorus of “I Am Genocide” to the last gasp of energy in sub-two minute closer “Perpetuum,” all of Abysmal Ascent gives off “good local band energy.” You’re sure they’re destined for big things one day, but also ready for them to get off the stage.

This is disappointing because the members of Amputate are no slouches in their individual performances. Nuno Santos and Kuzmic do plenty of tinkering, working with 12/4 time signatures (“Malevolent Manifestation”), speedy tech-adjacent licks (“Sepulcro”,) and good old-fashioned Swedeath sustained chords (“Abysmal Ascent”, “Extractive Monolith”). It is in these slower moments that the band has the smallest whiff of an identity, as the heavier chords allow solos and leads to have a tad more impact. These moments are fleeting, however, and even the most memorable of these—for my money, the chorus of the title track—washes away in the hustle and bustle of blandness by whatever track follows. Abysmal Ascent is an album of excellent ingredients, deliberately concocted into a fine-sounding tribute to better bands before them. And not one of the generous number of listens I’ve given this album has unearthed anything approaching memorability, identity, or repeat play value.

Ultimately, Abysmal Ascent is an etch-a-sketch of an album, each song shaking and erasing the one preceding it, leaving the listener empty and unmoved. It’s clear that Amputate has ambition and passion; what they don’t have are the riffs. They lack the ball-crushing groove of Gatecreeper, the sinister atmosphere of Frozen Soul, the rabid bloodthirst of Vomitory, or the unique melody of Tomb Mold. Instead, they slot neatly in with the Entrailses and the Beheadeds of the world—bland and offensively inoffensive, nothing more. An album with a filthier production, a greater emphasis on songwriting, and developing a sense of identity for themselves would do wonders for their admitted performance capabilities, but discerning lovers of the old school should look elsewhere.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Massacre Records
Website: facebook.com/amputateofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 11th, 2024

#20 #2024 #AbysmalAscent #Amputate #Beheaded #DeathMetal #Entrails #Gorement #MassacreRecords #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #SwissMetal #Vomitory

Whispering Void – At the Sound of the Heart review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

Whispering Void is, by all accounts, a supergroup. Created by former Trelldom guitarist Ronny Stavestrand, his Trelldom connections allowed him to bring Kristian Eivind Espedal (otherwise known as the problematic fave, Gaahl) onto the project. From there it snowballed, with Gaahl’s Wardruna tenure opening the door for vocalist Lindy-Fay Hella to join the project as well. Rounding out the formation is Iver Sandøy on drums, the drummer for Enslaved’s last two albums. So not only is Whispering Void a supergroup, but they’re probably one of the most Norwegian supergroups ever. Whispering Void channels the diverse musical backgrounds and ideologies of these Norwegian musicians through, in their own words, “an organic and free-spirited studio process,” culminating in their debut album, At the Sound of the Heart.

Whispering Void plays a rich blend of folk, prog, and post-rock that conjures to mind a strikingly Norwegian Crippled Black Phoenix. Clear guitar melodies gently propel songs forward amidst ebbing layers of percussion, strings, and vocals. At the Sound of the Heart has a clean prog-rock tone like that of Lunatic Soul while the songwriting builds towards grand, post-y climaxes, with some added ambient influences to enrich the sound. The performances are excellent, obviously, given the pedigree. The instrumentation from Stavestrand and Sandøy is clean and tight, Hella’s expressive vocals are full of emotion, and nobody can do gravelly spoken words quite like Gaahl. It’s not what I would call the most bodacious of supergroups, comprised of larger-than-life personalities, but the musicians of Whispering Void work together well.

Something that struck me early on regarding At the Sound of the Heart that took a while to put into words is how it feels devoid of ego. Supergroups are typically eager to showcase what certain members’ excel at in their own groups to the point of excess, and while Whispering Void does lean into its members’ strengths, it’s subtle and restrained. The music is thoughtfully composed in a way that strives for melodic clarity and atmospheric richness, which rings most clearly through At the Sound of the Heart’s first half. “Vinden Vier” tastefully pairs a beautiful melody sung by Hella with Gaahl’s percussive recitation of the song’s title, whereas “Vi Finnes” gives Gaahl’s vocals a greater spotlight as the haunting chorus escalates through the song. “Whispering Void” is a great track that dynamically leads through a clean guitar melody paired with Hella’s vocals into a chorus where Gaahl’s vocals complement Sandøy’s drumming prowess, culminating in a sublime melodic climax. It’s genuinely refreshing to hear such talented musicians who are all great on their own working together in a way that’s less about showing off and more about creating something unique through a free-form collaborative process.

As At the Sound of the Heart enters its second half, the results of that artistic process grow shakier. It’s tempting to wax poetic about some cerebral, damning problem rooted deep within the album’s second half to justify it, but truthfully, it’s the simple anticlimax of just being weaker than the first half. The songs are less gripping and slowly sink into the background—the melodies aren’t as strong, the song structure becomes predictable, the atmosphere less inviting. The title track and “We Are Here” adopt a gloomy and dramatic veneer that leans into Gaahl’s spoken words, but they’re frequently more of a whisper and the melodies just never really click. “Lauvvind” returns to the clean, prog-rock tone of the earlier songs, but has a jam-session feel that doesn’t quite land. The songs here aren’t even all that unpleasant, but they’re just boring enough. It’s like the first half marries a solid, driving composition with excellent atmosphere, while the second half lets the compositional strength seep away in favor of the vibes. Vibes can be good, but vibes do not a song make.

It is a unique challenge to score At the Sound of the Heart; in many ways, it defies scoring. At times sublime in its composition and at times little more than musicians just shooting the breeze, At the Sound of the Heart is an unobstructed view into an organic, collaborative artistic process that never truly fails, but only occasionally succeeds. The free-form nature of the music is clearly the point, and it would be a loss if Whispering Void abandoned their free-form experimentation for rigidity. I only wish Whispering Void made more stellar songs like those of the album’s first half, but perhaps you’ll feel differently, and I invite you to experience At the Sound of the Heart for yourself.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: October 18th, 2024

#25 #2024 #Ambient #AtTheSoundOfTheHeart #CrippledBlackPhoenix #Enslaved #Folk #LunaticSoul #NorwegianMetal #Oct24 #PostRock #ProgRock #ProphecyProductions #Trelldom #Wardruna #WhisperingVoid

Morpholith – Dystopian Distributions of Mass Produced Narcotics Review

By GardensTale

Genre distributions from country to country are fascinating to me. You could devote entire studies to why certain sounds develop and proliferate more in one country (or part thereof) than another. Iceland is predominantly known for post-metal, black metal, and post-black metal, with varying degrees of folk. What it isn’t known for is doom metal, which might come as a surprise given the cold, isolation, and endless winter nights. Morpholith aims to break through the permafrost with their debut Dystopian Distributions of Mass Produced Narcotics (hereafter just called Distributions because the full title is several mouthfuls). Can the fledgling band make its mark?

Concerning heaviness, Morpholith is aiming for tectonic. Riffs are made up of giant, bottom-loaded chords, replete with crunchy distortion. They often create space in their strides by coasting on the final echoing thrum (“Hellscaper”) or approaching funeral levels of protraction (“Exoportal”), with only the shorter “Metabaron” and “Narcofactory” cranking the bpm into mid-paced levels. Though a few sources tagged Distributions as stoner doom, I disagree with the former half of that take; it’s too harsh, too dark, too icy, and despairing. Morpholith has more in common with long-form sludge doom like Ufomammut, viewed through a filter of Icelandic metal. This is particularly notable in the vocals, which surprised me with their versatility, using everything from moody cleans to burly roars to moist gurgling growls to vicious screams.1 It’s one of the best features of Distributions, and it’s unfortunate their potential is only partially fulfilled.

It appears to me Morpholith may be aiming for a kind of heavy hypnotism, supported by the occasional appearance of psychedelicisms like the bendy solos on “Dismalium” and “Exoportal.” But that type of quality is difficult to capture, and overshooting the target leads to understimulating repetitiveness. The majority of the tracks suffer from this one way or another, usually because of over-reliance on a single riff, droning on and on for minutes at a time. This wouldn’t really be an issue if the riffs themselves were more engaging, but they tend toward fairly predictable patterns captured in a handful of chords, seemingly putting more import on the droning, crushing aesthetic of individual notes than how they are strung together.

When Morpholith trends away from these issues, it reveals that underneath the excess of dirge is a band with the ability to write some killer tunes, but they often misallocate time and focus. The shrill solo early in “Exoportal” and the slow build across its second half are very good, but the solo is surrounded by too much empty space and the build takes too long to prevent sag. “Dismalium” has an excellent section where free-form chanting vocals overlay a torrential riff, but when the vocals start petering out, the riff keeps going for another several minutes. Early “Narcofactory” leans too heavily on a basic bass line, but the transition from morose clean vocals into nasty blackened screams is killer. And the production, in spite of the low DR score, has quite a nice and nasty sound, lending credit to the grim and cold dystopia Morpholith attempts to paint.

Dystopian Distributions of Mass Produced Narcotics is a classic case of good ideas smeared out over too many minutes. Man-spreading riffs, spending too much time without switching gear, tracks that should have started later and ended sooner, all the usual suspects have come out to play. But Morpholith have a steel core beneath the overflowing mass, with their solid vocal array and a sweet solo or two. Hearing the Icelandic palette applied to psychedelic sludge doom is a damn promising premise. I hope Morpholith will deliver upon it in full next time.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Interstellar Smoke Record
Websites: morpholith.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/morpholith
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2024

#25 #2024 #DoomMetal #DystopianDistributionsOfMassProducedNarcotics #IcelandicMetal #InterstellarSmokeRecord #Morpholith #Nystra #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #Sludge #Ufomammut

Kings of Mercia – Battle Scars Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Having already this decade released a Tuesday the Sky album, new project North Sea Echoes, and, now, the second Kings of Mercia album Battle Scars, it’s clear Fates Warning founding guitarist Jim Matheos does not wander this Earth without a load of sonic ideas. While many of his offshoots have skewed ambient or atmospheric in some regard, Kings of Mercia follows a different path. Featuring the classically AOR vocal styles of the highly-credited, little-celebrated Steve Overland (FM, Shadowman),1 Kings of Mercia aims neither for the head nor the heart, leaning instead into the hip-swaying, gentle head nodding of warm-toned Dad metal. So you ask then how they got those scars? Probably in a fight with a hammer and a shelf that concluded with all parties splayed about the floor.

As an homage to a simpler time in metal history, a lot of what Kings of Mercia puts out feels obligatory. Now, this doesn’t mean that Matheos can’t write a song—far from it. Cuts like “Eye for an Eye,” “Legend,” and “Cold” have more than enough slick riffage and sneaky modulations that they carry their weight from start to finish with little effort and high intrigue. But both confined in traditional chorus-focused rock structures and firmly in the box of 80s-minded impact, Battle Scars needs to succeed on the few elements that it handles with delicate personal twists. And in that limited scope, its chance to break away the shopping mall hits list from the likes of a bouncing Toto jam or a sultry Whitesnake burner leaves Battle Scars out the gate with a handicap.

But Matheos and co. seem to concern themselves very little with how relevant or earth-shaking Kings of Mercia will be, continuing to focus on coating Battle Scars with well-toned, snazzy refrains that frame Overland’s time-tested pipes with an unbreakable groove. As a master of warping crunchy amp character against layered, syncopated riffs, Matheos builds an amplified immediacy that opens up with each of Overland’s title-laden chorus calls (“Guns and Ammunition,” “Eye for an Eye,” “Cold”). And when slowing things down to a bluesy bounce, rhythm stalwarts Joey Vera (Fates Warning, Armored Saint) and Simon Phillips (Toto) play up simpler guitar craft with a hammering march and growling pulse (“Between Two Worlds,” “Hell ‘n’ Back”). Matheos continues too to explore looped guitar patterns and chunky industrial tones with the alt-edged “Aftermath,” lending a higher diversity to the back half. Rare is the moment on Battle Scars that displeases the ears.

For an album that strikes as immediate, Battle Scars’ biggest fault remains its lowest moment segregating a serviceable open from a promising close. Much like the criticism that ol’ Huck laid out of their debut, Kings of Mercia’s adherence to the aged inclusion of a full sap ballad returns as an offense. The titular apex of the first half pushes—shakers and crying clean guitars hitting at full sweetness—an unwelcome aura of sadness into the pleasant romp that otherwise develops throughout Battle Scars. But this downcast element, at least, gives Kings of Mercia an edge that doesn’t usually persist in the 80s worship of the modern day. With lyrical content that ranges from dissatisfaction with certain sociopolitical happenings in the world (“Guns and Ammunition”), coming to terms with aging (“Between Two Worlds”), and acknowledging the duality of life choices (“Angels & Demons”), albeit in light-hearted phrasing,2 Kings of Mercia tells stories much differently than the big hair and arena anthemics of the past.

With this grounded energy, Battle Scars escapes a potential fault in remaining too saccharine. At brightest, Kings of Mercia evades the gruel of a closing second ballad, letting “Angels & Demons” turn down the lights with a resonating acoustic guitar melody and cello duet that simmers into a riff-handed statement of triumph. The harder-hitting, more diverse B-side at large highlights the plodding similarities of Overland’s vocal patterns and the overwrought nature of King of Mercia’s softest elements. So while it’s true that Matheos can build accessible distorted rockers with a progressive flair, it’ll take more than a little high-gain ear candy with a hint of melancholy for Kings of Mercia to sail away with a fuller vote of confidence.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records | Bandcamp
Websites: kingsofmercia.com | kingsofmercia.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: October 4th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AOR #BattleScars #FatesWarning #FM #HardRock #HeavyMetal #InternationalMetal #KingsOfMercia #MetalBladeRecords #Oct24 #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #Toto #Whitesnake

Hours of Worship – Death & Dying Vol. II Review

By Thus Spoke

When it comes to metal, “depressing” can mean a number of things. There’s funeral doom depressing—melodramatic, with heartbreaking melodies and savage growls. There’s DSBM depressing—hopeless, with listless refrains and inhuman shrieks. Then, there’s something like the music of Hours of Worship, which, now we come to it, isn’t metal at all. But it is depressing, and that’s precisely what the duo intend. Death and Dying Vol. II is, as you might expect, the follow-up to sophomore record Death and Dying Vol. I, and continues along the ambient gothic trajectory mapped out by that predecessor. The path that Hours of Worship have trodden has now reached a place truly apathetic and sober, which makes even their debut The Cold That You Left look upbeat. This is the most miserable electronica you’ll ever hear.

Death and Dying Vol. II. is an instant portal to the morose, mopey world that’s become Hours of Worship’s signature. Instantly recognizable for its solemn, stringlike synths and spaced-out, apathetic vocals, this visit sees it mired still further in gloom. The (relatively) uptempo rock and pop sensibilities of the debut have now been all but stripped away. The lone exception, cover of Faith and the Muse’s “Shattered in Aspect,” is still glummer than a song with its chirruping refrain ought to be, while its companions threaten to totally ruin your day—or make it, if you’re a masochist like me. Moving away from a moody Depeche Mode, Joy Division vibe and into what’s essentially a synthesized, clean-sung version of None, Hours of Worship are only getting darker and less eager to be part of this world.

Hours of Worship know that bleakness goes down best when it’s beautiful. The sedate, melancholic melodies are a brilliant backdrop for Wound and Trembling Master to sigh out their ennui in breathy baritones. Little chimes ring resonant in the air alongside pulsing bubbles of warm noise and quivering ethereal refrains (“Losing the Will to Live”). Drum beats echo. Vocals layer and melt into the syrupy synths as they drawl (“Opaline Ashes”). Sometimes sobriety wraps this prettiness in a shroud of monotony, the repeating flickers of is-that-guitar-or-keyboard1 almost sinister before they meet with an airy descending aria (“Bunker in Disarray,” “Derelict & Ruined”). Stand-out “Losing the Will to Live,” however, hides nothing of its pulchritude. With weeping chords and delicately developed descending scales, a heartbeat of echoing drums, and painfully morose moans, it’s a masterclass in wretched allure. Beside this, the bluntness of “Beneath a Hanging Tree”—the most depressing piece of all—is only intensified. Its low ratio between bluntness and beauty magnifies that of others—the carillons of keys breaking dull chords (“Derelict & Ruined”), subtle chorals and warped notes forming mournful refrains (“Losing the Will To Live”), and listless drones alternating with Byronic near-whispers (“Opaline Ashes”).

The dour sensibilities of Death & Dying Vol. II do nonetheless take their toll. Despite being moody as hell, opening duo “Bunker in Disarray” and “Derelict & Ruined” are neither confrontationally joyless as “Beneath a Hanging Tree,” nor grimly graceful like “Losing the Will to Live,” and “Opaline Ashes.” Their brand of washed-out disinterest therefore sits in the limbo of placidity, and they aren’t as strong as the songs that follow. The smooth drum transition between the two of them is, however, very nice. More broadly, there remains a nagging thought that Hours of Worship’s recent proclivity for the particularly funereal is holding back their talents for music with a bit more grip. But perhaps one ought not complain about a lack of sparkle from a record whose primary goal is to disillusion them with the land of the living

Death & Dying Vol II achieves what it sets out to do. You will come out its other side weary and jaded. Its ability to swallow up hope and cast a gloomy veil really is second only to DSBM, even surpassing it, at its most monotonous—for better or worse. If you enjoy wallowing in misery as much as Hours of Worship do, indulge yourself for a while.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Worship the Dead
Website: hoursofworship.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2024

#2024 #35 #AmericanMetal #DarkAmbient #DeathDyingVolII #DepecheMode #Gothic #HoursOfWorship #JoyDivision #None #NotMetal #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #WorshipTheDead

Triumpher – Spirit Invictus Review

By Kenstrosity

Everything changed when the water nation attacked. On the night of September 27th, spongekind existed peacefully in their humble home. The morning of September 28th, rampant destruction. While the flooding left my home fatally enmoistened, I persist. I now rise up in my ultimate glory, undefeated by a storm powerful enough to destroy my city.1 What better way to announce my return to the AMG Hall than with Greek epic metal quintet Triumpher’s much-awaited sophomore record, Spirit Invictus? Raise your swords, and revel in the glory of heavy as fook metal!

Those unfamiliar with Triumpher’s Manowar-by-way-of-the-extreme ways should feel shame. Forsooth, their mettle in the ways of metal exudes power the likes of which levels castles and strips the flesh off a dragon’s bones. While debut Storming the Walls recounted its epic yarns for a touch too long for the weak of spirit and shallow of fortitude, Spirit Invictus unleashes its blinding flash of might in a taut and muscular forty minutes. These songs waste little time with exposition, instead prioritizing classic heavy metal riffs enlivened by traits of black metal extremity and rippling power metal rhythms. A range of barked, wailed, rough-hewn and chanting vocals tell epic tales of WICTORY and WENGEANCE, all filtered through the lens of Greek history and mythology. In short, if Spirit Invictus doesn’t grow the hair on your chest, you aren’t worthy to wield the sword of triumph(ER).

Two songs jump out of Spirit Invictus’ lineup which encapsulate everything that Triumpher does well. The first, “Spirit Invictus,” flawlessly balances exuberant power metal frolics with undeniably masculine heavy metal muscle. The inclusion of reverent organs and baritone background choir work only deepens the sense of scale evoked by this track, while hard-charging guitars bring the might of galloping riffs and shimmering tremolos to bear. The second, “Triumpher,” serves as the ultimate manifesto for the band itself. Confident, filled with vim and vigor, and determined to succeed against all odds, “Triumpher” boasts the best songwriting these Greeks penned thus far. Its irresistible chorus, backed by an incredible lead riff, puts a fire in my veins even before I consciously register its corporeal manifestation in sound. Such power cannot be bought, and Triumpher have it in spades. Thankfully, and despite competing with the aforementioned highlights, many of Spirit Invictus’ songs hold their own with aplomb. The blackened tear across barren lands and through purple castles conjured by “Alexander” evidence well-honed character development and storytelling skills. Meanwhile, “Athena (1st Chapter)” showcases Triumpher’s excellent world-building skills through huge verses and multifaceted instrumentation.

All this and more proves that Triumpher possess ample chops to make a name for themselves in a genre well tread. However, their journey has just begun, and therefore some potential remains to be realized. Fun songs though they may be on their own, “Arrival of the Avenger” and “Shores of Marathon” lag just barely behind the album’s strongest material. Mild quality variation introduced by these slightly weaker numbers thereby brings minor disruption to my immersion with—but not enjoyment of—Spirit Invictus. Additionally, while I love Mars Triumph’s unhinged and unrestrained vocal attack for this sound, there are moments where he reaches a bit too far past his physical limits (hear him fight valiantly for those arpeggios on “Hall of a Thousand Storms”). Certainly his passion for this music is just too strong to be contained, so I find myself forgiving those misfires quickly. As a final nitpick, Spirit Invictus is loud. Not particularly compressed or claustrophobic, it’s nonetheless one of the loudest records I’ve heard this year out of the box, making initial spins a touch uncomfortable while I fiddled around for comfortable levels. Proceed with caution if you are like me, and have a preferred starting position for your volume knob.

Minor complaints aside, Spirit Invictus is proof that Storming the Walls was no fluke. Triumpher is the real deal. Powerful, mighty, righteous. All apt descriptors for their music. My sword rises to rapt attention at the mere mention of their name now, and while I’m hard put to choose a favorite between the two records the band’s released thus far, Spirit Invictus is the more consistent—and certainly the tighter—of the two. If they continue perfecting their sound this way, Triumpher will in no time solidify their status as heavy metal legends in the House ov Ken.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: No Remorse Records
Websites: triumpher.bandcamp.com/music | facebook.com/Triumpher.official
Releases Worldwide: October 25th, 2024

#2024 #35 #GreekMetal #HeavyMetal #Manowar #NoRemorseRecords #Oct24 #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #SpiritInvictus #Triumpher

Capilla Ardiente – Where Gods Live and Men Die Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

The only thing more metal than the glimmer of bloodied blade in the setting sun is the barbaric howl that reverberates afterward as a determination of victory. Early in heavy metal’s history, that kind of bravado embodied by the epic escapades of Iron Maiden, marching jams of Manilla Road, or the regressive rambunctiousness of Manowar separated that true spirit from burgeoning radio-friendly sounds in similarly incepted acts. In the modern day, the epic tag has carried on through the spirit of traditional heavy and doom-leaning acts—the Aceruses and Stygian Crowns of this world, among others. Capilla Ardiente too has carried the flag, with their 2019 opus The Siege harboring both the explosive nature required to wield steel and the patience to strike for killing impact. Less restrained in title, does Where Gods Live and Men Die possess the same battlefield tact?

If The Siege drew inspiration from a raid while the walls still stood in defense, Where Gods Live and Men Die finds itself amid the breeched fortifications. The Siege saw Felipe Plaza Kutzbach’s (Procession, Scald) barrel-chested, Bayley-intonated1 roars soar through the wade and gallop of Candlemassive riffs and aggressive Solitude Aeturnus charges against the heavy load of full gain bass thwonk—a tone far more common in stoner doom than in the moistened-loins epic world. Now, Where Gods sees an increased guide of wailing leads as histrionic intros and episodic transitions in its four episodic, long-form pieces. No matter the guitar tone, low and modern for rhythms or high and cutting for shredding hours, Claudio Botarro Neira’s monstrous four-string work never hides, finding its way to a tasteful clanging solo (“Not Here. Nowhere.,” “As I Lie on the Summit”) and dancing, progressive transition all the same.

For an act focused on building layers of harmony on mountains of riffs, Capilla Ardiente has chosen a robust and unsubtle production style for Where Gods Live and Men Die. From the opening notes a wall of distorted bass, modern-toned chords, and low-end harmonized riff lines ring in voluminous glory. Each line rings through with enough compression to allow clarity in assault, and maintains a pleasant warmth, particularly in ringing chord breakaways that segue various moments on this time-testing journey. Against Neira’s devouring bass presence, a gargantuan tone that in the wrong hands would be a recipe for bulldozed guitars, it’s no easy feat for riffs to maintain their own separate weight, and the amount of volume it takes to keep palm-muted touches crispy and trills defined can wear on the ears. But still, Capilla Ardiente plays around with enough higher frequency accents—Maiden worship roto tom fills, neoclassical melodic guitar quips—to keep the soundstage from collapsing in its own power.

Kutzbach’s well-framed vocal charisma remains equally important to the winding structure that defines Capilla Ardiente’s works. Many of his parts have a roundabout way of finding note resolution. The call-and-response vocal-guitar solo break in the midway point of “The Hands of Fate Around My Neck,” where many words fall just flat until descending into a double-tracked harmony or paired arpeggio, would be a hard sell if not for the backing triumph of the riff run that led up to it—and the blazing solo that follows it, for that matter. And Kutzbach himself holds the proper belief that a well-placed falsetto can raise the intensity level, with key breaks from his burly, tightroping baritone-shattering listening defenses as necessary. Truthfully, I’m not certain a more accurate voice2 could match the sword-clashing spirals that present in “Envenomed” or “As I Lie…” as the frenetic nature of the tempo accelerations and subsequent crawls spell for chaos not calculation. Just as in battle, it’s the last swing that matters, and Kutzbach knows this.

Through the various bouts I’ve had with Where Gods Live and Men Die, Capilla Ardiente continues to come out with sword raised high and head hanging low. Though their take on epic, progressive doom metal eschews the horrors of skirmish by focusing on the path necessary to rise above, its sullen dips into Peaceville aesthetics reminds us that the battlefield is not a jubilant place. Much like the music that Capilla Ardiente produces, navigating a dive into the fray requires careful attention to its twists. Where Gods Live and Men Die is a challenge, but not one without its spoils.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records3.
Websites: facebook.com/capillaardientedoom
Releases Worldwide: October 18th, 2024

#2024 #35 #BlazeBayley #Candlemass #CapillaArdiente #ChileanMetal #DoomMetal #EpicDoomMetal #HighRollerRecords #IronMaiden #Oct24 #Procession #ProgressiveDoomMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Scald #SolitudeAeturnus #TheSiege #WhereGodsLiveAndMenDie

Black Curse – Burning in Celestial Poison Review

By Eldritch Elitist

There are a mere handful of artists whose work I would describe as genuinely transportive. Black Curse is one of them, but instead of sweeping me away into cold space, vast wilderness, or entire fucking battlefields, Black Curse transports me straight to whatever Cenobite hell rewires your pleasure centers. By all accounts, I should not like Black Curse. I don’t even like war metal1. Yet 2020’s Endless Wound clawed and wriggled and scorched its way into my good graces all the same, and upon retrospection feels like one of that year’s most enduring records. Four years on, and those assuredly busy members of Khemmis, Primitive Man, Spectral Voice, and now Ulthar2 have convened again for a follow-up I never dared hope would materialize. The result is Burning in Celestial Poison, a record I can’t quite fully wrap my brain around, other than to gain an incomplete understanding of its brilliance.

Burning in Celestial Poison still very much sounds like Black Curse: sonically akin to a more purely elemental Teitanblood, but with an unmistakably caustic stamp. It’s evident that the members understand that approximately 17% of the Black Curse entertainment factor stems from fucked up guitar squeals and indecipherable shrieking, as those crucial components are ever-present. Yet in contrast to the relative simplicity of Black Curse’s debut, Burning in Celestial Poison’s compositions invoke a puzzle box shrouded in thorns and smoke. Its average track length nearly doubles that of its predecessor, but even its shortest cuts feel unpredictable and disarmingly aggressive. For all its twists and turns, Burning in Celestial Poison is a more immediately visceral Black Curse, with less allowance for doom metal sections or breathing room in general. This is an outright endurance test and an utterly relentless experience, but its density and scope are captivating, ensuring maximum replay value.

In terms of genre composition, Burning in Celestial Poison has shifted the balance of black metal and death metal, giving their blackened side more earth with which to scorch. In fact, the winding compositions frequently remind me of Black Curse’s labelmate Funereal Presence. While Black Curse operates best when they prime their assaults with death metal bluntness, this change represents a better balancing of their elements, and death metal is still frequently granted center stage. “Trodden Flesh” in particular boasts a midsection anchored with disgustingly catchy riffs that feel disconcertingly accessible in the context of this record, uncharacteristically enticing as if concealing an ulterior motive. If I have a critique from the songwriting front, it’s that memorable passages such as these feel somewhat sparse. There are big moments that tower above the madness, feverishly grasping at an even bolder vision, but their hold is fleeting. A greater frequency of these moments could have further elevated an already compelling vision.

Arthur Rizk returns once again as producer, and has engineered Burning in Celestial Poison to be similarly abrasive, with instruments presented in lower fidelity than its predecessor. The performances are further obscured by countless layers of screeching ambience, with every component thoroughly moistened by reverb. I’m of two minds regarding the production on this record. On one hand, its sheer cacophony makes for a listening experience that feels only a few steps removed from inscrutability, making its curious atmosphere all the more maliciously unknowable. On the other, my desire to constantly delve into this record’s depths for a better understanding of its thesis is mildly quelled by the hostility of its engineering. As this uncomfortable feeling is almost certainly Black Curse’s intent, I’m inclined to chalk the production choices up as a net positive. Burning in Celestial Poison is the rare metal record that may come across as legitimately hostile to genre veterans, and one that somehow lives up to the overwrought, hyperbolic pitch presented with its promo sheet.

After living with this album for some time, I came to the realization that Burning in Celestial Poison feels closer to the Black Curse imprinted in my mind following their debut than the Black Curse presented on that debut. It is unquestionably more than the sum of its parts and feels closer to the band’s true vision, one driven by instinct and impulse rather than a discernible, structured order. As for whether I believe this record is actually better than Endless Wound, I believe the answer will only be revealed over time. Endless Wound is more immediately appealing, but something about its execution feels less satisfying now that I know what Black Curse is capable of. Burning in Celestial Poison will almost certainly spark debate; with every spin, it becomes clearer that it is not a safe sequel. Yet this is still a work that sounds like it could only come from one collective of artists, and to me, that signifies a success on all fronts.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Sepulchral Voice Records
Website: blackcurse-svr.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: October 25th, 2024

#2024 #40 #AmericanMetal #BlackCurse #BlackenedDeathMetal #BloodIncantation #BurningInCelestialPoison #FunerealPresence #Khemmis #Oct24 #PrimitiveMan #Review #Reviews #SepulchralVoiceRecords #SpectralVoice #Teitanblood #Ulthar

Weep – The Constant Strain of Life Review

By Cherd

My schooling and professional experience is in the making and teaching of visual fine art, and every once in a while this music reviewing gig reveals close parallels to consider. As I listen to Minneapolis-based one-man blackgaze project Weep and his debut full-length The Constant Strain of Life, I’m reminded of the differences between drawing and painting. Most artists who paint, draw, and vice versa value each medium for different reasons. Painting is a somewhat major production with lots of moving parts. There are layers. If you don’t like a mark, you paint over it, and it becomes part of a nearly invisible self-contained history. Painting builds or obfuscates spatial illusion in a push-and-pull process. Color theory has to be considered. Drawing is much more immediate. It can be detailed and meticulous, but it’s comparatively uncomplicated. There’s the hand, the tool, and the mark on the surface. It’s like seeing someone think out loud. Musical equivalents are like this: progressive death metal is painting. Raw black metal is drawing. Big band jazz is painting, but John Coltrane going on long improvised tangents on his sax is drawing.

The Constant Strain of Life is, in our dichotomy, drawing. Weep’s lone member, Cerastes, runs post-punk and shoegaze through a raw black metal filter but without the raw part. Comparisons can be made to fellow Minnesota bands Ashbringer or Wishfield, but this is a much more stripped-down, straightforward affair. How stripped down? If you had told me this was a demo, I wouldn’t have batted an eye. There are a few points of stylistic variation, like “Coffin Varnish,” which leans into doom tempos and solemnity, while “Desaturated Soul,” commits completely to shoegaze. One gets the idea that Cerastes has listened to a fair bit of screamo, but thankfully that influence on Weep is more residual than overt. The Constant Strain of Life spends the vast majority of its time squarely in that “post-black” space.

Cerastes’ “just the facts, ma’am” style contributes to both the album’s charm and its weaknesses. Production-wise, each instrument sits side by side with the others rather than combines with them. One can almost see every note played floating in space. This works fine on songs like the two that open the album. “Late Autumn” and “Must We Continue” both rely on buoyant indie rock guitar lines played over blackened rhythms to give them an immediate hook. When heft and urgency are needed, however, that space between elements becomes an issue. Take the title track. Once the song kicks into third gear and the chugging guitar riff starts at the 1:30 mark, it’s all too sparse a sound to convey the weight Weep is going for. It doesn’t do enough to raise the intensity, so the breakdown that follows also fails to land. This happens again with “The Sour Scent of Ozone,” as the chugging riff over the programmed drum d-beat comes off as flat-footed rather than energetic. More experimentation with the guitar tone could have potentially helped this. The tone, and indeed the riff, feel too stock-standard.

The issue of seemingly stock riffs emerges elsewhere, from “Late Autumn” to “Coffin Varnish” and “This is the End,” adding to the demo-like quality mentioned above. There are plenty of times listening to The Constant Strain of Life when I wonder why Cerates didn’t just commit to true raw black metal. It wouldn’t fix some of the writing issues, but it would imbue texture and atmosphere that the record could seriously benefit from. The Constant Strain of Life is best when it splits the poles between stark post-punk and black metal. “Must We Continue” is an early highlight and an example of the simple riffs coming off as effortless rather than uninspired. The strongest run starts with the one true shoegaze song “Desaturated Soul” and ends with another post-punk leaning song in album closer “Choosing to Live.” The clean vocals on “Desaturated Soul” are pitch-perfect for the style and I wish Weep would incorporate them more often for contrast and variety.

The Constant Strain of Life may be drawing in our drawing/painting dichotomy, but it alternates between drawing-as-finished-piece and sketchbook entries. Stark, blackened post-punk suits Cerates wonderfully, but more layers and color are needed when Weep reaches for bigger emotional payoffs, or when raging speed is required. There’s some good playlist material here, but as a full-length album, it could use some more time on the easel.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Website: weep.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: October 25th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #Ashbringer #BlackMetal #Blackgaze #LiminalDreadProductions #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #TheConstantStrainOfLife #Weep #Wishfield

Sentient Horror – In Service of the Dead Review

By Steel Druhm

From the lush, verdant meadowlands of New Jersey seeps the toxic terrors of caveman death dealers Sentient Horror. Featuring members of Heads for the Dead, Reeking Aura, and Dead and Dripping, these thuggish cretins have been hurling their vulgar takes on vintage HM-2 Entombed-core at the morgue wall since 2016 and a lot of it stuck. 2016s Ungodly Forms channeled the early days of Edge of Sanity on an enjoyably crushing opus, and 2022s Rites of Gore saw them pollute the Swedeath with American influences of the least evolved variety. Fourth album In Service of the Dead sees Sentient Horror experimenting with thrash and NWoBHM elements to further diversify their user-unfriendy sound. Rest assured that the end product is still vein-bursting, bone-breaking death metal with nary a trace of grace or decorum. But can it be of service to the living?

Opener “The Way of Decay” is one of the best death chestnuts I’ve heard in 2024, coming at you like a honey badger with double rabies and an empty belly. It’s savage and unstoppable noise with buzzing guitars slashing and slicing in all directions as nasty death roars and thundering drums pound you into the mafia-filled mud bog outside Jets/Giants Stadium. It’s a Swedeath spectacle paying tribute to the early days of the Stockholm sound and it will murderize your sensibilities. “Undead Mutation” keeps things hurtful with a bit of American groove and power chug arriving for support. The chorus hits hard and Sentient Horror are in top form. Across the album, songs are kept nasty, bruising, and short, hitting and running like a fleet of unregistered deathmobiles. “Cadaverous Hordes” is a high point, with gloriously thrashed-out death antics that approach grind levels of intensity. It’s pounding, ravenous death with frantically escalating riffwork and zero fucks given and it can trigger a severe panic attack. I also appreciate the vague similarities to prime Sepultura that crop up on the back end.

The commitment to thrashing death keeps things sticking and moving and the glory days of Swedeath still live large in the writing. “Born in the Morgue” is like 1990s Entombed trying to channel the sleaze-scuzz of Autopsy, and the title track could have appeared on Left Hand Path and fit in as snug as a slug in a bed sore. The album’s tight 37 minutes with songs all in the 3-4 minute window mean things move fast. While not every song is a title contender, none are bad or skippable and there’s no trace of fat or bloat to be found. All that said, the front half is more stacked with killers, and by the halfway point you start to get the feeling the material is a tad one-note, though that note is quite entertaining. Despite claims of an infusion of NWoBHM influences, I don’t hear much of that in the material. The thrash is there in spades, however. The production is a bit muddy and not in that cool murky way. Rather, it hits more like a thick wall of sound. I much prefer the mastering on Rites of Gore and their prior works.

Matthew Molite (Heads for the Dead) and Jon Lopez demonstrate a keen understanding of the Swedeath sound and clearly love the classic Sunlight Studio releases by Entombed and Dismember. They bring the HM-2 buzz thunder to all the nooks and crannies of the album and do it violent justice. The burly riffage is always good and sometimes great, while the solo work is often impressive. Molite’s death croaks are industry standard but completely effective. He’s more Corpsegrinder than L.G. Petrov this time, but you won’t hear me complaining. I will gripe about the bass work of TJ Coon (Reeking Aura) being all but completely washed away by the overly loud mix, submerged under the drums and vocals. Production missteps aside, these gents know what they’re all about and how to deliver the body bags and bloody rags.

Sentient Horror are the picture of a competent hard-working death metal act with all the requisite cargo shorts and beards. On every album, you get a few extra intense blasts from the lungs of Hell and a bunch of enjoyable grave nuggets that fall just shy of playlist-worthy. The same holds true on In Service of the Dead. You’ll never go wrong blasting an album by these New Jersey vandals, that’s for sure. Buy In Service of the Dead with confidence and get laid to waste in the fetid swamps of the Garden State.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Redefining Darkness
Websites: sentienthorror.bandcamp.com |facebook.com/sentienthorrorofficial | instagram.com/sentienthorrorofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 25th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #DeathMetal #Dismember #Entombed #InServiceOfTheDead #Oct24 #RedefiningDarknessRecords #Review #Reviews #RitesOfGore #SentientHorror #UngodlyForms