Dante Alighieri once said “The path to paradise begins in Hell.” Andy Curtis-Brignell and Laurence Taylor, the backbone of Caïna, hold these powerful words close and no album makes this more apparent than their new outing – Christ Clad in White Phosphorus. Take a step backwards if you wil: in 2007 the UK anomaly brought forth the bitter-sweet droning of Mourner, a year later they diverged into ear-friendly post-rock with Temporary Antenna, Hands that Pluck offered “straight-up” black metal, while Litanies of Abjection and Setter of Unseen Snares sent you scrambling for that trusty bottle of Prozac hidden in the darkest recesses of your closet! No matter where or when you entered Caïna‘s discography, it’s soon apparent that no two Caïna albums are the same and at times it’s even a stretch of the imagination believing a single creative force stands behind this artistry. True to form, Christ Clad in White Phosphorus quickly establishes that, after a 20-month wait, it’s a well-formed, fascinating and unrepentant piece of art. You’d be wise to remember today, for it’s the beginning of always.

To tweak another Dante-ism, the more a thing is perfect, the more it exerts pleasure and pain. No words could align more absolutely with how Christ Clad in White Phosphorus plays out. From the get-go, “Oildrenched and Geartorn” mechanically works its way under your skin. It’s an understated throwback to the minimalism and overbearingly gloomy 80s darkwave scene and bands like Bauhaus. I won’t lie, it plays on for such an extended period of time, it had me checking my headphones to see if they were functioning correctly. And then the big transition, “Torture Geometry” drags you into a hellish cacophony of muddy, churlish black metal. Sonically it plays to it’s title perfectly, the shape and relative arrangement of the song-parts, of the vocals, fighting the mechanical rhythm left over from the opening track.

Christ Clad ends up being a cvlt journey through sound effect/noise across 4 tracks, seamlessly woven into ruthless Norwegian styled black metal tainted with ugly doom and black ‘n roll experiments over 6 tracks, all brought to a close with a 80s darkwave styled excursion. Of the effect/noise tracks “The Throat of the World” brings to mind a blend of Ulver and Skitliv, creating an environment that feels nothing short of alien. “Pillars of Salt” is a convoluted, abandoned amusement park put to music as only Kristoffer Rygg could do, but this time combined with the disjointedness of Igorrr. The last of the noise tracks, an 11-minute plus epic, washes over you in waves much like “Not Saved.”

Stepping through what I’m going to term the “musical” tracks, “Fumes of God” features one of the few breezy and some might say “uplifting” moments of this hellish journey. Caïna quickly crush it, putting an abrupt end to their foible as “Gazing on the Quantum Megalith” opens with a few moments of Pain-riddled industrial metal, before falling back on muddy, washing-machine-like black ‘n roll. “God’s Tongue as an Ashtray” follows reminding me early on of Taake, folding in and on itself before successfully dabbling in the kind of funeral doom I crave from Loss. The back end of the album doesn’t let up. Aggressive, hammering drums and guitars form a wall-of-noise and  introduce “Entartete Kunst” before “The Promise of Youth” rounds out, alluding to the kind of engulfing melancholy, pain and lack of promise that befits an outing with Deadspace.

A big part of what makes Christ Clad in White Phosphorus work, comes from Andy Curtis-Brignell and Laurence Taylor’s combined vocal contributions. Their vocal theatrics range from disjointed, incoherent rasps on “Torture Geometry,” to bludgeoning blackened croaks and barks side-by-side with clean spoken word and the isolated lamentations of a voice trapped in a radio transmission on “God’s Tongue as an Ashtray” and “Entartete Kunst.” On an album already packed with experimentation and weird influence this just adds another hook.

Christ Clad in White Phosphorus is unlike anything Caïna have done before. Were I hard-pressed to liken it to their earlier work, I’d say that it’s probably closest to the flow of Mourner but darker and with far less “pretty” melodic reprieve. This is an excellent album, though not necessarily an easy listen, and I expect it’ll appeal to a niche market, but if you’re a fan of Caïna and you’re willing to put in the time to truly appreciate their fine artistry, this is a hellish trip worth taking.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings
Websites: facebook.com/cainaband
Releases Worldwide: July 15th, 2016

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Believe it or not the life of a music reviewer is not as glamorous as one would think. Yes, from time to time you’re invited to the likes of Thor‘s Rock Opera in some trendy part of New York City, you’re jet-setting off to Chicago with tickets to Alehorn of Power IX, or you’re the first to get your grubby mitts on Swallow the Sun‘s new triple album. Outside of those jaw-dropping moments though, reviewing consists of picking some unknown band/album off the promo sheet with your fingers tightly crossed hoping that what’s going to burst out of your monitors isn’t going to suck monkey balls. Aussie ambient/black metallers, Spire, was one of those random, finger-crossing, hope-for-the-best-expect-the-worst moments.

Active since 2007, Spire released their self-titled 7-track EP back in 2010 to a mostly a lukewarm reception with indicators that none of the ambient tracks could push through to something bigger or stood out on their own. A year later, the band metamorphosed their sound, releasing Metamorph, a 5-track EP featuring a cleaner production style, increased black metal intensity and more variety in the drum-work. Neither of these works ever crossed my path. Fast-forward to 2016 and according to the buzz Spire are set to release their debut full-length, featuring what I’m told should be regarded as “progressive black metal.” How could I resist?

In what I guess could be deemed a progressive move, Entropy kicks off with the opening track entitled “End.” The song begins with the grim atmosphere of Shining‘s early work shadowed by the doomy melodies of sad-boy bands like Insomnium or Omnium Gatherum. The track takes an age to really get going, but when it does you’re greeted by a few moments of Naglfar-like melodic Swedish style black metal. Vocals are cavernous, rasping and more haunting than in-your-face obvious, adding to the monotony of the song. On a whole, “End” goes nowhere fast, it’s inoffensive and there’s nothing about it that screams “must hear.”

Stylistically “Labyrinthine” and “(Remake)” follow seamlessly from the opening track. The only real difference being that “(Remake)” has zero vocals. Across a track of this magnitude that’s a risky move, despite some likeness to the milder side of Darkspace, it’s a throwaway effort that doesn’t pay off for Spire. The big redeeming quality of “Labyrinthine” ends up being that the vocals employed sound more didgeridoo than human.  It gives a unique and very country specific feel to the the album.

“Void” and “(Unmake)” set your teeth on edge, definitively showing Spire‘s darker, heavier side, with the former being the only track I’d likely go back to (if any). “Void” starts off big and jarring, very much out of sync with the atmospherics of before. About a minute and a half into the song, the traditional black metal rasps are set aside and things develop a psychedelic haze, becoming more dramatic and theatrical – let your mind drift along the lines of A Forest of Stars on Shadowplay for Yesterday. Entropy closes with the title track and their biggest effort thus far, it’s a mighty undertaking of nearly fourteen minutes that goes through a some distinct tempo and style shifts in an effort to keep things interesting. For the most part it’s a re-hash of what’s come before. Expect more Insomnium Gatherum cheerlessness, instrumental and vocal atmospherics, pained didgeridoo-like groans broken by spells of blast beat intensive, Naglfar-stylized black metal unbalance and general disarray.

Despite Entropy having a good and clear production style that suits the instrumentation and vocal contributions, and some briefly interesting moments, Spire created a release that inspires neither interest or enthusiasm. Songs are lengthy, taking far too long to get off the ground, and there’s just too much similarity and stability from one track to the next to be able to keep the different phases of Entropy fastened within your mind. Shrug your shoulders and move on, I know I will.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Websites: facebook.com/spire
Releases Worldwide: August 19th, 2016

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The phrase “Spain is different!” seems to roll off the tongue of many a Spaniard. And rightly so; as a country its culture, cuisine and even the architecture, are markedly recognizable in flavor, style, look and feel. So how does that relate to Unbegotten‘s debut release Proem of the Unborn? Have these mutinous Spaniards turned against their Spanish roots? Or have they perhaps added a little Flamenco or maybe some Latin pizzazz to their black metal offering? The answer is yes and no. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want every album to be distinctly country specific. Blurring the lines and mixing influences and genres is interesting in and of itself. But when you set up my expectations by referencing that Proem of the Unborn contains raw black metal as known well by followers in Portugal and Spain that leaves me expectant. The only thing left to say is: son, I am disappoint.

After a brief intro reminiscent of Shining‘s “Reflecting in Solitude” off I: Within Deep Dark Chambers, Proem of the Unborn gets going with “Into the Entrails of my Deliverance.” The track itself takes from the ebb and flow of mid-period Burzum, demonstrates the rawness of early Shining and mixes it up with the rumble of Bethlehem. Unbegotten have very little by way of information available online and that makes it pretty tough to figure out who’s who in the zoo. At any rate, the nameless ghoul on vocal duty grunts like Kvarforth combined with the trademarks of Varg. This would be a pretty sweet combination, except that his vocals lack the necessary oomph to make any lasting impression. They snap and snarl away ineffectively, barely rising above a murmur. They ultimately do no more damage other than to bring to mind a more cantankerous version of that crazy old guy who drunkenly stumbles out the back of the ramshackle neighborhood pub, making himself at home among trash cans, the tendrils of long forgotten pot plants and abandoned coolers. If you mistakenly wander out in search of a breath of fresh air, he’s muttering to you incoherently about the trials and tribulations of swimming pool installations, leftover packaging concerns and other madness’s too bizarre to even fully comprehend [This is an oddly specific description… – AMG].

I could quite literally copy and paste the above paragraph twice or thrice more, throw in a different song title, and you’d still get the just of what to expect from Proem of the Unborn. The tracks that follow (“Porphyric Curse,” “…Of Gardens and Evokations” and “Dreadful Lethargy of the Unstable”) are all largely similar in style, arrangement and delivery to “Into the Entrails of my Deliverance.” Tempo changes and stabs at creativity can be counted on one hand. Early in “Porphyric Curse” there’s a brief shift as the band slows down to a doom-paced crawl, bombarding you repeatedly with slow deliberate percussion and humming, focused guitars. Or “…Of Gardens and Evokations” where for a few moments it sounds as though Unbegotten have abandoned their train of thought. The instrumentation loses its cohesion and it seems as though the band-members chime in, whenever and with whatever tickles their fancy. And lastly there’s the sad melody that dogs “Dreadful Lethargy of the Unstable” subtly prompting me back towards other band favorites that do gutted so much better.

For an album that’s punting the kind of sound created by pioneers of the black metal scene back in the early ’80s, Unbegotten do a reasonably good job of capturing a DIY element into their sound – their guitars sound murky, their drums jangly and the bass is altogether non-existent. That said, there’s still some instrumental loudness that holds this album back from feeling truly authentic.

I’ve been a harsh critic of Proem of the Unborn. Harsh song transitions, tracks that tend towards over-long and a lack of anything exciting to really get engrossed in does that to you. After spending a considerable amount of time on Unbegotten and Proem for the Unborn, I must concede that their 5-track (22-minute) debut is a listenable album, that ends up a non-essential listen.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Forever Plagued Records
Websites: TOO KVLT FOR YOU
Releases Worldwide: August 26th, 2015

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Written By: Eldritch Elitist

Listening to Oniric Delusions this past week got me thinking about vanilla ice cream. It’s a dessert that’s not so much widely loved as universally accepted as a reliable standby to other, more complex dishes. Proper application of toppings however can transform this most mundane of treats into something special and unique. When I learned that Banisher hails from Poland and markets themselves as extreme death metal, I couldn’t help but raise my expectations at least a little. For me, Poland is inextricably bound to its excellent death metal bands, and the prospect of a Vader-grindcore melding or a technical take on Behemoth had me intrigued. Taking into account that longtime guitarist Hubert Więcek was recently deemed talented enough to join the ranks of the legendary Decapitated on bass, I was left wondering: could Banisher be Poland’s next great death metal sundae? Or is the “extreme” death metal they promise really code for “double-vanilla?”

As it turns out, the answer isn’t quite so cut-and-dry, as Banisher introduces a few interesting ingredients to the genre formula yet ultimately fails to craft a unique recipe. What’s immediately apparent is that Oniric Delusions isn’t so much “extreme” death metal as it is technical; the entirety of the fret-board is explored in each song, and the whole thing is stuffed to the gills with intricate drum fills. Banisher’s greatest strength, however, lies not in their technical prowess but rather in their songwriting abilities, which is especially gratifying in a genre that too often prizes raw brutality and showy musicianship above thoughtful construction. Each song builds towards a logical conclusion by constructing a playbook of riffs that are modified throughout, and the record as a whole feels as though it was assembled with a purpose, with song variety increasing towards the end to create an album with a unique flow.

Solid construction aside, Oniric Delusions is ultimately damaged by just how “okay” everything sounds when it could so clearly be quite good, even great. There are some sprinkles of brutal and melodic death metal here, but not nearly enough to place Banisher within the same realm as Severed Savior or Arsis. It feels like the level of technicality on display is the bare minimum a death metal band could exhibit and still get away with being classified as tech-death; there are tempo and time signature switch-ups, but none of them are particularly surprising and not once was I blown away by the complexity of the riffs. No aspect of Oniric Delusions comes across as being particularly boring, but nothing here makes Banisher stand out from the glut of modern tech death acts.

The modern production is slick yet inoffensive; Szczepan Inglot’s aggressive vocals and Jacek Gut’s drumming are prioritized in the mix and they pack a punch, yet the guitar tone is bland (especially in the higher registers) and the bass is buried to undetectable depths. Still the level of clarity highlights the way that Więcek and Gut work in precise tandem, with the former’s staccato style complementing the latter’s relentless blast beats (complemented by tasteful implementation of cowbell.) Album opener “Axes to Fall” showcases this dynamic, with varied drum patterns and riffs that simultaneously crush and groove to make for some of the album’s most intriguing (though not terribly exciting) moments. The other major highlight is closing track “The Fatal Parable of a Certain Mercenary,” which throws a last-minute curveball by incorporating slower tempos and blackened melodies into the band’s repertoire. It’s a shame this track comes at the expense of Banisher’s most technical and brutal elements.

In the end, Oniric Delusions was a frustrating experience for me. It’s an enjoyable listen overall and the songs are all rock-solid in their construction (there are only seven of them, making for a breezy half-hour of decent death metal), but at the same time there’s just nothing here to grant Banisher a unique identity. If glimmers of the band’s genre-weaving capabilities and the members’ sheer precision is any indication, the band may be on the cusp of of something truly unique within the style. As it stands, Oniric Delusions is a decent diversion from genre mainstays, likely to satisfy diehard death metal junkies while ultimately falling under the radar of anyone in search of something a bit more fulfilling.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 160 kbps mp3
Label: Deformeathing Records
Websites: banisher.pl | banisher.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/banisherofficial
Releases Worldwide: September 3rd, 2016

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Written By: GardensTale

Popular music has had a shadow looming over it for years: talent shows, where thousands of contenders come to have their hopes and dreams shattered, burned and the ashes spread to the winds. Apparently the practice has also come to unpopular music; in 2011, Century Media crowned proggers Oddland the winners of the Suomi Metal Star contest. Those last three words make me gag, but at least Oddland got a record deal out of it, with Dan “The Man” Swanö as their mix and mastering bonus. Their debut, The Treachery of Senses, received great reviews and not without reason: it contained an instantly recognizable mixture of djent-influenced rhythms with a smooth vocal delivery and excellent, mature songwriting. Such a debut is hard to follow up on, and for their new album, Oddland‘s mission was just to overcome the dreaded sophomore slump.

Like the debut, Origin is driven by pounding, syncopathic rhythm sections with audible influences from djent. The freight train of Meshuggah chugging is interspersed with quieter passages and occasionally supported by highly technical guitar noodling. The musicians are extremely competent, weaving intricate melodies not entirely unlike Gojira. In stark contrast is the smooth and somewhat grungy voice of Ojanen, whose vocal style could be compared to the likes of Chris Cornell as well as Pain of Salvation‘s Daniël Gildenlöw. The end result sounds like Leprous on steroids, in a good way. On the other hand, the synths from the debut are conspicuously absent on most tracks and used sparingly on the rest. Combined with the denser production the music generally feels more claustrophobic. The aggressive low-end rhythm section takes precedence on Origin, pummeling with jarring, oppressive blasts. It’s a darker approach, and a stark and immediate take on the technically complex material.

Sadly, the debut’s melodic angle was simply a lot more interesting than The Dark Chug Returns. The production is one of the biggest problems. Both albums were mastered at a similar dynamic range, but no one knows how to make a loud master sound good like Dan Swanö. Both he and the label have been replaced, and the resulting production sounds louder and more compressed. The shift in focus away from melody has left the album with fewer hooks to hang on to and the latter half has too little variety remain interesting. Most of the best songs are the ones that change things up: the engaging layered vocals on the chorus of “Will”, the morose “Thanatos” which relies less on chugging, and the emotionally resonant “Penumbra” ending with a scintillating guitar lead that shows off what happens when Oddland nails the balance between aggressive and melodic. But none of the following 5 songs stand out, with the negative exception of “Hidden” if only because it’s the least focused of the lot.

All this is disappointing, but not necessarily catastrophic. The downsides could be offset by spectacular vocals, but while Ojanen has a rich and pleasant voice, he can’t produce the required depth to be the emotional anchor. Worse, his style of successive long notes interferes with the instrumental tempo, dragging down the songs and increasing the feeling of sameness across the tracks. Combine this, the overly technical instrumentation, the lack of real variety and the dense production and you’re left with an album that sounds superficially interesting but feels cold and distant, like a hot psychiatrist with an all business attitude.

I keep wishing I could give Origin a better score. The band is crazy talented, something they have already demonstrated with Treachery of Senses. They play their instruments well, and the overall sound, disregarding the production, is spectacular, but the truly good moments are too far between to make up for the long stretches of dull technicality. In the end, Origin has left me feeling disillusioned, and I can only make the saddest conclusion: this is an album of great elements mired in uninspired songs.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Sensory Records
Websites: oddlandband.com | facebook.com/oddland
Releases Worldwide: September 9th, 2016

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Written By: GardensTale

I’m a big supporter of not taking yourself too seriously. From bands like Gloryhammer to movies like Tucker and Dale vs Evil, a little tongue in cheek, self deprecating humor can get you a lot of sympathy. Case in point: Bloodnut is Australian slang for redhead and the whole band pride themselves on being gingers all around. They don’t take themselves too seriously either. They list their cover of Ed Sheeran’s “Give Me Love” as being ‘made, recorded and mixed by gingers. Original version by a ginger.’ Their debut cleverly references the legendary Kyuss album Blues for the Red Sun with the similar cover and title Blues from the Red Sons. But there’s a fine line between poking fun and gimmicky self-parody. Did the ginger nuts deliver a red hot album or is it soulless after all?

For all the hubbub around their hair-color, Bloodnut doesn’t use it much in their music, unless I was unaware that ginger equates to crusty sludge metal with a pinch of stoner to help the bulldozer riffs. After a short moonshine blues intro, the opening track “Agent Orange in Thine Enemies Eyes” (what a title!) shows exactly what the band is about: huge, filthy riffs with slurred and harshly belted vocals. The guitar sounds like someone blew up a bass amp with actual explosives, put the parts back together and recorded the guitar through it. The effect is a massive, grinding sound, like a chainsaw with a brain, a first cousin to Eyehategod’s sound but without the misanthropy. The bass is more audible than you’d expect underneath all that sonic violence and adds a dryer oomph, providing some nice counterbalance.

The vocals, however, are a different story. Most people tend to be sticklers for vocals, even in metal where half the vocalists are unintelligible. I’m regularly a hard sell for the same reason, but sludge and stoner have some leeway by their rough, unpolished natures. Unfortunately Bloodnut just sounds like everyone was drunk when laying down the voice tracks. The words are often incoherently slurred and don’t seem to have much bearing on the actual pitch or tempo of the music surrounding them. Vocal duties are often shared or layered, which tends to makes things worse because the voice tracks don’t always line up. Regardless of who sings, most sentences fizzle out at the end and lose all impact. “Drop Dead Redhead” uses a simpler throaty belting style that works, but “The Amber Reign Remains” is one of the worst offenders; most of the song sounds like a pair of drunk hooligans on karaoke night. The few instances of clean vocals are invariably even worse, with the pitch and inflection going all over the place. If the inebriated sound was intended as part of the tongue-in-cheek schtick, it doesn’t hit the mark, lurching from acceptable to downright irritating.

It’s a shame because instrumentally the album is very effective. The heavy, crushing sound is propelled by straightforward riffs that betray that they shared a stage with Red Fang and Black Tusk, and although now and then the songs go on for a couple bars too many it’s usually well within tolerance (with the exception of “Send in the Berzekers” which is twice the necessary length). Occasional tempo changes bring some variety to the fold, and when the pace goes down we find welcome blues influence. The closer is supported by a surprising addition of bagpipes and sports one of the better sections on the album: a pulsing beat and driven guitar lead down the center of the track. But it hits a brick wall and falls apart the moment the vocals return to the scene.

Bloodnut have a lot going for them, and I suspect these tunes can tear the venue down when played live. But as a studio album it’s impossible to overlook the ‘drunk karaoke night’ vibe of the vocals. Maybe their next album will work out better if they take that aspect a little more seriously.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Revaulting Records
Websites: bloodnut.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/bloodnutband
Releases Worldwide: September 10th, 2016

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Written By:  Akerblogger

A blanket of smoke and incense billows from an attic-bedroom conversion as Electric Wizard makes a rare appearance from his occult abode to make a sandwich or to record an episode of Most Haunted. Conan sits in the garage and uses his sharp fingernails to shape mythical creatures out of wood, sporadically bellowing songs of war into the night, begrudgingly quieting down when his mother threatens to take away his copy of The Silmarillion. Slomatics is the younger brother of the two aforementioned doomsters. He spends his time gazing into the stars, reading Frank Herbert, Philip. K. Dick and H.G. Wells, and exploring the Moog that his father found for cheap at the car boot sale. He shares a lot in common with his older brothers, but his interest in the cosmic and the other-worldly sets him apart. Future Echo Returns is the fifth full-length by Belfast doomongers Slomatics and the final episode in a trilogy of thematically connected albums (the other two being 2012’s A Hocht and 2014’s Estron) that addresses humanity’s place and purpose in this magical little world of ours.

Future Echo Returns is a 38-minute album that feels more like an hour. Take that as you will. Musically there has not been a drastic shift in sound; the fuzz-laden slabs of doom and sludge are prominent, however a greater focus on vocal harmony and synthesiser usage do shake things up a bit. The pure amplified force of the riffs are impressive, at least at first.  The two guitars (no bass) trudge on and on in tandem, rather blindly, throughout. There’s not a lot of variety or dynamism riff-wise. Slomatics prefer to steadily chip away at the listener’s sanity through cranking and droning heaviness. Certain tracks, “Electric Breath” and “Rat Chariot” for example, don’t sink their claws deeply enough to hook a listener, acting more as a buffer between songs rather than something of standalone merit. That’s my issue with this album: it’s too fat and lethargic. It could do with losing some fuzz and stretching its experimental legs.

“In the Grip of Fausto” opens with an exciting urgency but urgently it decides once again to slow down to a monotonous trudge. There’s the occasional bluesy Melvins-esque groove and King Buzzo-esque shout to get the blood pumping, the occasional shift in pace and spurt of intensity as in the opener “Estronomicon,” but for the most part Slomatics borrow from the book of shake, rattle and monotonous chug. However it’s when the band noodles in more subtle 70’s influenced space-rock soundscapes that the music comes to life. Slomatics gravitate towards a 70s rock inspired sound adorned with the finest elements of space and psychedelic rock. You can hear that in the simplicity of the riffs and the song structures masked under thick layers of overdrive and fuzz. Opener “Estronomicon,” for example, is what “Kashmir” by Led Zeppelin would sound like if it was recorded in a rickety old spaceship cascading through space and struggling against cosmic wind and solar flares. Continually, the clean and rockier sounding vocals work well with the heavy usage of sci-fi drowsed synths that convey a 70’s Hawkwind, Pink Floyd, Neu! vibe.

Hawkwind-esque synth sounds ripple through the six-minute instrumental track “Ritual Beginnings,” building cinematically towards a downcast climax of whooshing laser sounds and crackling amps. It’s a very different track mood-wise compared to the rest of the album – somber, pensive and actually quite beautiful, it evokes more of a Boris or Asva vibe and works well to break up the album. Continuing with the positives, the vocals are diverse and interesting throughout; in the final track – the ten minute epic “Into the Eternal” – dramatic and powerful dual vocal harmonies echo above the moody soundscape, a hybrid of Big Business, Type O Negative, and 70’s prog. Even a moody guitar solo makes a rare appearance here. Similarly penultimate track “Supernothing” contains powerful clean vocals that counteract interestingly with the less-than-clean guitar tone. Vocals are used wisely and sparingly throughout, adding a much appreciated extra-dimension.

Future Echo Returns is meaty and full-hearted; there’s no tinny hollowness here, only bone-rattling noise. I’m all for the marauding, galloping, and crushing approach that bands like Slomatics, Conan, Slabdragger, and others in the British scene take, especially in comparison to the occult-rock revival happening parallel to it, however less bone-rattling heaviness and more synth-led tenderness may have made this a more memorable album.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Black Bow Records
Websites: slomatics.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/slomatics
Releases Worldwide: September 2nd, 2016

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Written By: Treble Yell

Of the wavelengths split from heavy metal’s prism, doom is the color that can most clearly trace its path back to Black Sabbath. Down-tuned riffs, fuzzed-out solos and a bottom end that would make Sir Mix-a-lot dab the sweat from his brow, today’s doom acts unabashedly carry the flame first lit by Messrs Iommi, Ward, Butler and Osborne. The danger in this familiarity is that some bands struggle to escape their progenitor’s orbit and end up as pale imitators rather than carving out a space of their own. Although this self-titled album is their debut, Wretch are not new to the scene as singer/guitarist Karl Simon previously played in The Gates of Slumber, whose 2008 album Conqueror impressed me. Can Wretch do more than merely worship at the temple of Sabbath? Can they preach?

Before we get into a blow-by-blow account of the album proper, I want to discuss the notion of loss. Many if not all of us have felt the passing of a loved one. Feelings of despair, anger, regret and incredulity wrack the senses, leaving one numb and hollow. Everyone deals with the emptiness in their own way. For some, pouring one’s sorrow into a work of art serves as a cathartic release for the soul and veneration for one we never want to forget. Wretch is how Simon decided to deal with his grief after the passing of ex-The Gates of Slumber bassist Jason McCash in 2014. Taking its name in part from The Gates of Slumber’s last album, The Wretch, Wretch eschews the Dungeons ‘n’ Dragons trappings in favor of a darkly introspective tone befitting one deep in mourning. While I feel art should stand on its own merits and not rely on the crutches of circumstance, outlining the environment in which it was created can serve to add proper context.

Opener “Running out of Days” is a pretty straight-forward number with chug-a-chug riffs that bring to mind The Obsessed. Simon’s vocals occupy a space somewhere in between Witchcraft’s Magnus Pelander and Monster Magnet’s Dave Wyndorf. It’s a solid, no-surprises affair that doesn’t outstay its welcome but neither does it rouse the blood. The next track “Rest in Peace” allows the band to stretch its muscles a bit more, offering some effective chord progression and a tasty solo reminiscent of Gaz Jennings of Cathedral fame. In fact, the entire song reminds me of the British doom stalwarts (my hand written notes for this song include “Cathedral as fuck!”) an observation that extends to many other parts of the album. “Winter,” a brief psychedelic track that makes one feel as if their atoms are unraveling across the lip of a black hole’s event horizon, continues on in this vein.

Every doom album is bound by ancient law to include at least one long crushing epic and “Icebound” delivers the goods. It starts slow, building a dirty, feedback-heavy riff that loops as it increases in volume until the song properly begins at the 2-minute mark. From here it incorporates elements from not only the aforementioned Cathedral and Black Sabbath, but also Saint Vitus and a bit of Bloody Hammers just for good measure. This is easily the best track on the album, bold and confident with some outstanding performances from drummer Chris Gordon and bassist Bryce Clarke. Closer “Drown” does a great job of tying its subject matter to the music, blending slow, spiraling chords with haunting, watery vocals that left me gasping for air.

As good as some of the tracks on the album are, Wretch is not without its faults. For one, it hews too closely to well-worn doom tropes, playing things safe thus starving the music of originality. Secondly the album is rather short, 33-minutes spread over 7 songs. That’s not necessarily a fatal flaw provided you make every second count but when two of the tracks are instrumentals and only one of them is particularly interesting (“Bloodfinger”) you end up with an audience lamenting over what could have been rather than being hungry for more.

On the production side the album is well mixed, and despite the rather anemic dynamic range the overall sound is pleasantly organic with instruments clearly delineated and vocals that are not buried underneath a wall of fuzz.

I enjoyed my time with Wretch but its by-the-numbers, comfort-food approach to doom makes it difficult for it to escape the shadow of the classic albums by the genre’s greats. Simon hopefully found solace in returning to what he knows best. Whether that’s enough for everybody else will be up for the individual to decide for themselves.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 160 kbps mp3
Label: Bad Omen Records
Websites: facebook.com/wretch
Releases Worldwide: August 26th, 2016

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Written By: Dr. Wvrm

Every metal-head has their watershed moment; whether that’s Master of Puppets, Symbolic or actually Watershed, that magic album taps you on the shoulder and says “young poser, let me show you the way to trveness.” After growing disinterested with the same six bands I was exposed to growing up (you can probably list them), I was on my way out of metaldom entirely… until I heard Come Clarity by In Flames. I know, it’s borderline butt metal, but it was exactly what I needed to smash the thrash barrier into extreme vocals and complex instrumentation. Like so many of you, I wouldn’t be the metal-head I am today without that moment. So when Chariots of the Gods bills itself as melodic metal with In Flames as its top influence, I’m cautious yet optimistic. I know there’s some bad there, but there’s definitely some good. Which brand of In Flames did I get: hooky melodic exploration or messy dreadlocked drivel?

Neither, as it happens. While 2013’s Tides of War introduced Chariots of the Gods as a thrashier cut of metalcore, Ages Unsung expounds upon that style with a newfound melodic stance that skirts the boundaries of metalcore and melodic death. Second-slated “Tusk” lands Chariots on metal’s shores but ensures its metalcore cred remains firmly intact, invoking Trivium or Orpheus Omega before In Flames ever comes to mind. Twin guitar work builds a thumping drum-and-chug intro into fiery riffs replete with standard metalcore pinch harmonics before a sublime solo caps the track. Rounded out with aggressive screams and foot-stomping rhythms, “Tusk” suggests Chariots possess the individual components for a successful album. Yet with less production to prop themselves up and no keyboard to anchor the melody, they lack the ensnaring passages and trademark hooks that stay stuck in your head for days.

“Tusk” is fairly indicative of Ages Unsung as a whole, matching good-but-not-great riffs with melodies that are just effective enough to get your head bopping. Unfortunately, the album’s success is restricted by that missing killer hookiness. The lack of variety in the melodic progression and song direction make Ages prone to repetition. Additionally, faulty track placement and meandering detours compound the record’s problems. After dragging through too long opener “Primordial Dawn,” and following up “Tusk” with the dawdling “Of Prometheus and the Sacred Flame” I was left checking my watch. Promising opens to “As the Sky Falls” and “Resurrection” tease album-defining moments but wedge in down-tempo cleans and breakdowns that derail their momentum. “Through Darkness and Decay” made me double take at my computer screen, convincing me that a different act stepped on-stage. A head-scratching hard rock ballad worthy of Nickelback (or dare I say X-Method?), not even one of the strongest solos on the album can save this one.

Chariots are at their best with all guns blazing, with “New World” and “Into Oblivion” providing the purest enjoyment on Ages Unsung. The former delivers on all of Chariots’ promise as it pins its ears back and blasts from a focused piano intro into the full package, featuring the best hooks and riffs on the spin. Lead axeman Mathieu St-Amour cuts quality solos that stand above the usual fare in both melodeath and metalcore camps, while new mic-handler Chris Therien’s punchy stylings are a welcome upgrade over his predecessor’s hardcore flavors. When he’s on the mark, Therien is reminiscent of Soilwork’s Bjorn Strid; still, he lacks Strid’s aptitude for cleans and his execution wavers over the course of the LP.

Ages Unsung is by no means a bad album. It’s tightly knit and solidly executed within its bounds. The average listener will undoubtedly find a couple of moments that weasel into their brain cavity and bounce around for a day or two. But after that initial earworm period, there is very little that warrants repeat visits. The proposition of uncovering some new tidbit or re-listening to a passage you might have overlooked simply isn’t there. Chariots of the Gods does their damnedest to entertain and ultimately succeed; however, there’s a clear gap between them and their contemporaries. If Chariots want to bridge that divide, they have some work to do.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: chariotsofthegods.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/ChariotsoftheGods
Releases Worldwide: September 16th, 2016

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Written By: Treble Yell

Hey, how’s your day? You probably aren’t having a good one. Boss wants you to work the weekend? Vexed by an ever thinning bank account? Maybe it’s humankind as a whole that’s squeezing the goodwill from your body, like toothpaste escaping a tube crushed by an elephant that’s really let itself go. Worry not my child for the balm to salve your festering wounds exists in the form of a split from Demonomancy and Witchcraft. Bestial, coarse and outright evil, this 26-minute payload of blackened death offers a brief respite for those needing an outlet for their rancor.

Information on both bands is unsurprisingly slight but they seem to be relatively green, having only toiled in the salt mines for a number of years with the odd demo and split release to show for it, though Demonomancy did release their first full-length in 2013. Both bands come from countries with respected underground scenes, Italy for Demonomancy and Finland for Witchcraft (no relation to the Swedish doom peddlers of the same name).

The first two tracks belong to Demonomancy and while straightforward, the pair are well executed and after a few spins managed to become stuck in my head. The focus on mid-tempo groove brings to mind Carpathian Forest crossed with Morbid Tales-era Celtic Frost, no doubt helped by the odd sprinklings of Tom G. Warrior-like “oohs.” The music is loose and filthy but the band displays their song-writing chops with deft attention to pace, knowing when to speed the tempo up and when to bring it down. This is important as opener “Archaic Remnants of the Numinous” is over 8 minutes long; a length of rope long enough to hang most bands with but Demonomancy manage to pull it off… just. It’s nothing revelatory but both tracks had me mildly nodding my head whilst listening to them at work, a minor sacrifice to decorum as full-blown head banging would lead to an awkward and uncomfortable HR dressing-down. Again.

Witchcraft occupies the last 3 tracks of the split and after repeated spins I’m still not sure if the band are taking the piss or not. “At the Diabolus Hour” is the bottle of champagne that launches this macabre ship – a song – and I use the term loosely – that is nothing more than guttural belching accompanied by discordant, whinnying lead guitar, a combination that sounds like a dying horse slowly being digested in Beelzebub’s bowels. Frenetic blast-beats and buzzsaw riffing are the focus for “Grave Immolation,” whose muffled, sounds-like-it-was-recorded-in-a-shallow-grave production brings to mind Ulver’s Nattens Madrigal. This track would be utterly forgettable if it wasn’t for the interesting way in which Witchcraft mixed the Demilich-esque vocals, having them sporadically leap to the foreground, wet and feculent, which contrasts nicely with the dry and smothered instrumentation. Closing out the album is “Perverted Temple of Goat Sodomy” which surprisingly slows down the pace with a crawling riff and restrained percussion that bears some resemblance to early Candlemass. This is the standout track of the MLP, and although it’s built around a relatively simple riff, the subtle but intelligent approach to composition and chord progression engages the listener and draws them deeply into the music.

I’m going to put it out there and state emphatically this split isn’t by any means an amazing musical niblet. It won’t go down as an underground classic nor will you be overcome with desire to carve either band’s logo into your forearm. That aside, what’s presented here is relatively engaging and doesn’t overstay its welcome. This is not music to absorb whilst supine in an ornate chair, fingers steepled and eyes closed, allowing one’s consciousness to ponder the unfathomable mysteries of the universe. No, this is ugly, angry music, unvarnished and unkempt. If your misery seeks company then Demonomancy and Witchcraft might serve as ample distraction. Just keep your expectations in check.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear War Now! Productions
Websites: facebook.com/demonomancy
Releases Worldwide: September 15th, 2016

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Written By: Lord Lucan

I find black metal deeply polarizing. While helplessly captivated by the cold, desolate aura of much of the genre’s higher quality output, I also find myself mind-numbingly frustrated when magnificent records are in my view ruined by intentionally dreadful production, sounding as though they were recorded not in a studio but rather in a metal bin at the bottom of a distant lake (Transilvanian Hunger anyone?). Founded in Bergen in the early nineties by frontman Aphazel, the aptly-named Ancient have been diligently plying their trade for almost a quarter of a century now, establishing a back catalogue of uncharacteristically lush-sounding black metal and recruiting a small but loyal following along the way. The band’s most recent offering Back to the Land of the Dead constitutes their seventh full-length studio album and their first new material in over 12 years, so the pressure is on for Ancient to satisfy their eagerly expectant fanbase. The question is: have they delivered?

Not entirely. Stylistically Back to the Land of the Dead is a continuation of Ancient’s established formula, which falls somewhere in the middle of an Immortal/Bathory/Khold venn diagram. Emphasis is placed on a more considered and melodic approach to black metal than is common, managing to avoid descending into the kind of tiresome shriek-fest that epitomizes the genre’s default setting. Although admirable, for this strategy to work requires a solid sense of compositional flair, and this is ultimately Ancient’s downfall. Despite the evident proficiency of individual band members as instrumentalists, the standard of songwriting is patchy at best. While punctuated with a selection of genuinely enjoyable tracks, Back to the Land of the Dead also showcases some absolute clunkers that should have been canned long before the recording studio time was booked. This leaves us with a record of near maddening inconsistency, drunkenly lapsing between the inspired and the tedious, and rendering a significant portion of the album’s 70-minute runtime more of an endurance test than a pleasure.

Curiously, the weighting of Back to the Land of the Dead is also noticeably unbalanced, with the strongest material found almost exclusively on the first half of the album, thereby painting a distorted picture of what is set to follow, building the listener’s hopes up before dropping them on their face at around the 35-minute mark. It’s not that the second half is truly terrible – goodness knows worse has been peddled as music – but it’s just not particularly interesting. The effect this has however is that when the 70 minutes are up, one’s overriding memory of the record will always be the slightly naff second half as opposed to the more formidable first, and this hardly entices the listener to dive back in for round two.

Production-wise is where Ancient excel and Back to the Land of the Dead is no exception. All of the instruments have a rounded, organic feel, there’s a satisfying crunch to the guitar tone and the pleasing absence of any of the tinny, stripped back kvlt bollockry alluded to earlier results in a record that sounds genuinely lovely. Highlights include opener “Land of the Dead,” “The Empyrean Sword” and the stomping “Occlude the Gates,” and while all of the instrumental performances are impressive, a salient nod must be accorded to journeyman drummer Nicholas Barker for his work behind the kit. Having collaborated with numerous notable acts over the course of his career, including the likes of Dimmu Borgir, Cradle of Filth and Brujeria, Barker puts in a cracking performance, marching even the weaker tracks forward with just the right measure of embellishment and flair, so as to complement his bandmates’ performances without overshadowing them. Barker is a consummate professional and a veteran of the circuit, and his work on Back to the Land of the Dead showcases his skills to a tee.

Make no mistake about it, this is a deeply frustrating album. If the quality of the entire record were up to the standard of the first half then, while it would by no means constitute a future classic, I could heartily recommend it nonetheless. As it is however, it’s simply a bit hit and miss. Existing fans of Ancient will probably lap it up, and there is genuinely plenty to enjoy, but its inconsistency is its undoing, ending with a whimper rather than a roar.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Soulseller Records
Websites: ancientband.net | facebook.com/ancientband
Releases Worldwide: September 16th, 2016

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I’ve never quite got my head around open-plan office space and those waist-height cubicles. Yes, your hive of corporate activity looks wonderful photographed from seven different angles; prominently displayed on your enterprises website. Oh and let’s not forget about the collaboration! But what’s the cost? Stress-induced irritability, hostility towards creativity and productivity, anxiety and ongoing health issues. Oh wait, collaboration just flew out the window… Where am I going with this? Music. More specifically, metal. Pain have proved themselves inconsistent over the years and as with most things in life, with the good comes the bad. Dancing with the Dead hit hard and fast – fist pumping chugs, rousing melodies, lively symphonics and inciting lyrics you can’t budge with a crowbar. Psalms of Extinction and Cynic Paradise belly-flopped, leaving my playlist almost as quickly as they were added, but You Only Live Twice aggressively became my guilty metal pleasure; the lyrics resonate and the harsher vocal styles electrify.  Might “The Great Pretender” have been a clue as to Pain‘s mindset with lines like “It’s a real fine line between being good and being bad.” “Might as well crash and burn because we’re never ever gonna learn.” However the dice fall on Coming Home, I’m fired up!

From the onset of Coming Home, it’s clear that Pain are still peddling their familiar mix of heavy metal, industrial and techno. “Designed to Piss You Off” begins with an unexpected country rock vibe before quickly heading into done before techno-metal territory. Though a little on the long side, the track slams you with striking tempo changes and the right melody, aggressiveness and parasitic catchiness. “Call Me” makes a decent enough entrance, chugging along with Crematory styled flare before introducing Fleshgod-type symphonics that, while maintaining richness, fall short in density.

Though probably being top-notch stripper metal, “Call Me” is where Coming Home‘s other obvious faults start making themselves apparent. “Call Me” suffers greatly in the lyric and vocal delivery departments. While lines like “Call me! Like a genie in the bottle, I’ll rub you the right way” might sound cutesy delivered by a pouting Katy Perry, when they’re delivered by Peter Tägtgren (Hypocrisy) they just sound downright sleazy. A guest appearance by Joakim Brodén (Sabaton) exacerbates the situation, hindering the track more than helping it. “Pain In The Ass” takes this a step further. After a short intro mimicking “The Great Pretender” (You Only Live Twice), the song heads down the catchy path of “Dirty Woman.” While this worked for Pain in the past, the new track is ruined by the crude and tacky nature of its lyrics. What Monster Magnet get away with in “She Digs That Hole” (Cobras and Fire), Pain bungle.

Overall the flow of Coming Home seems disjointed and as the album progresses my interest wanes. You’re amped for a song or two then Pain brings you down, breaking the momentum. Songs like “A Wannabe,” “Black Knight Satellite” and “Absinthe Phoenix Rising” are run-of-the-mill offerings with overly simplistic/generic lyrics, serving little purpose other than what seems to be delivery on their record label commitment. Other tracks like “Coming Home” closely resemble the somber memory of “My Misery” (Dancing with the Dead) without the heavy engagement that drives the song home. Lyrically and musically the title track feels intensely personal, like that of a journey of self discovery. Thoughts of too much time on the road, a guy getting on in years and the knowledge that it takes physical hunger to truly create art become apparent¹. By the end of “Coming Home,” it’s obvious that the song is overly long and intrusive and even misplaced on the album. Had this been the last track, it may have done a lot to improve the back-end of Coming Home.

Much like Crematory‘s techno-metal fusion, Pain‘s “Final Crusade” offers an aggressive intro, triumphant attitude, nifty djenty interludes and a chorus that sticks like Gorilla Glue. This combined with opener, “Designed To Piss You Off” at least means we get a couple of keepers. Coming Home isn’t the album I was hoping for. For now, I’m sticking  with Dancing with the Dead and You Only Live Twice. You should too.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 277 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: painworldwide.com | facebook.com/officialpain
Releases Worldwide: September 6th, 2016

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Written By: Zephyrus 

Any connoisseur of fine metal music will jump at the opportunity to list off the bands that got them into the genre. Some will cite Death and Metallica, while others might cry Europe without shame. For me, one of those bands was most definitely Tool. Now, I was but a wee metal tyke when I first listened to Tool – 10,000 Days was fresh off the press and after being introduced to it for the first time, I quickly caught up with their discography and then eagerly began the wait for the next release.

Yep. It’s been about 3,800 days since Tool pressed any fresh material, so I’m guessing we’re almost halfway to something new? Well, a trio of go-getter fans from Colorado up and said “fuck that” taking matters into their own hands. They formed a band called Source, wrote a bunch of Tool-y material and now they’re set to make their debut with Return to Nothing.

As Return to Nothing begins to spin, Source’s inspirations become obvious almost immediately. Tool dominates, and opening track “Forgiveness” has everything you might expect, from the heady philosophical themes to the syncopated, tribal drumming. Singer/guitarist Ben Gleason even sounds like Maynard and his fret-work emulates that of Adam Jones’ at more than a few points over the course of the record. Now, writing Source off as a simple rip-off band would be quite a mistake indeed, because Return to Nothing is actually a decent album. The band has the playing chops and the creativity to do more than just emulate, and their song writing skills are quickly made apparent as they weave back and forth between styles. Opethian death metal sections are common. Trippy experimental guitar solos and crisp jazzy, interludes invoke Leprous and Intronaut. In fact, the whole album plays out like a platter of Tool served with a side of Opeth, smothered in extra progressive sauce. Yum.

Source does a good job of mixing their influences and keeping things fresh, but Return to Nothing doesn’t know when to stop. Boasting 70 minutes of music, it would seem the band is really striving to make good on that lack of new Tool material (and that’s excluding the eight minute bonus track). While most of it is enjoyable, the record simply cannot command such a run time. Giving my full attention to the album from beginning to end was nigh impossible. Lengthy instrumental sections and choruses repeated one time too many mean quite a few of the tracks could have been cut down by a minute or two and the experience would have been made better. While you could spin the front and back halves in separate listening sessions and enjoy both, there’s once again something to be said for self-editing.

Thankfully, other complaints are sparse. The whole band does an excellent job with their respective roles, which is made even more noticeable by the record’s mixing job. Georges Octobous is deft on the kit and his tribal drumming is made prominent by a nice boost to the low end. This also helps bring Dan Crisafulli’s mastery of the bass guitar to front stage, a wise decision considering his playing is responsible for some of the most enjoyable moments on the record, with “The Essence” and “The Serpent” both shining because of him. One detail that should be discussed is Ben’s vocals. While his cleans fit the music well, they lack emotion and his harsh vocals are much too soft and timid to capture the Akerfeldt-style death metal growls he’s going for.

Overall, Return to Nothing is a promising debut from a band that knows what they like and aren’t afraid to borrow from the best. Source has a bright future in the progressive metal scene, and if Ben can grow into his vocals and the band can keep their writing concise they could very well knock it out of the park with the next one. Just pray we don’t have to wait a full decade to find out.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Pavement Entertainment
Websites: listentosource.com | facebook.com/listentosource
Releases Worldwide: September 23rd, 2016

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Written By: Zephyrus

Concerning geography, I’m the first to admit my complete and total cluelessness. I’m the guy that, until recently, thought the Philippines were off the coast of Central America. My knowledge of European countries is directly linked to the number of metal bands they have produced. When it comes to Brazil, I’m aware of exactly three things; their Olympics were a gongshow, they lost 7-1 and they love their power metal. That’s right, Almah is back with E.V.O, another offering of trademark Brazilian power. Helmed by ex-Angra singer Eduardo Falaschi, these cats are veterans to the scene and with E.V.O marking their 5th studio album, the band has become an entity of its own. It would seem Falaschi is riding high on that fact too because E.V.O is one of the most joyous, cheerful metal releases of the year. But does that make it good?

E.V.O begins the way any self-respecting power metal album should – with bombastic amounts of energy and a complete disregard for self-restraint. After briefly instilling us with a sense of tranquility, opener “Age of Aquarius” bursts forth in earnest. Double kicks and speedy riffs are rained down upon the unsuspecting listener as Falachi’s voice threatens to pierce the heavens themselves. In fact, one of the most immediately differences between E.V.O and Almah’s previous works is Falachi’s pitch, which he keeps quite a bit higher this time around. The opening track is easily my favorite of the album, and reminds us why Almah has found such success in the power metal scene. “Age of Aquarius” fails in but one regard, and it’s an unfortunate transgression indeed – it sets expectations for the rest of the record way too high.

As E.V.O continues to spin, it becomes apparent that this is not your average Almah album. Gone is the moody heaviness that dominated previous efforts Motion or Unfold. From “Speranza” onwards the music is unabashedly upbeat, vehemently vomiting forth sunshine and rainbows at every opportunity. This positivity is not a problem in and of itself, but many of the melodies used to express it sound derivative and simplistic. “The Brotherhood” is too cheesy for its own good, reminding me of a Christian rock song more than a power metal ballad. The chorus to “Infatuated” is so generically poppy it physically upsets me with every listen. The riffage on “Innocence” treads dangerously close to nu-metal-land, a dark and desolate place I escaped long ago.

None of the material I’m griping about is inherently bad (with the notable exception of “Infatuated”), it’s just that a lot of it isn’t all that compelling either. After the complexity and creativity displayed in the opener, many of the cuts feel tepid. The average song length is a concise four minutes. This further lends itself to the poppy, sing-along-metal mentality that permeates the record. Many bands have pulled off this style while still writing enjoyable material (see Mastadon’s The Hunter) but with E.V.O Almah haven’t nailed that sweet spot between infectiously catchy and intellectually stimulating. After such a strong start the disappointment hits deep.

It’s a damn shame too, because E.V.O contains so many splashes of excellence. Songs like “Pleased to Meet You” demonstrate a forward thinking creativity, evoking Protest the Hero while the band experiments with their usual sound. Even on the weaker cuts Marcel Barbosa’s fret-work is top notch, his solos often reminding me of Michael Romeo’s from Symphony X. The album is produced to a tee, sporting a dynamic and modern mix that captures all the energy of the music. These traits make E.V.O all the more frustrating a listen, as there’s so much being done right here that it feels like Almah squandered the record’s potential.

We metal fans are often considered a gloomy bunch. When a release like E.V.O comes around and blatantly beats us about the head with messages of golden-age living and poppy, uplifting positivity, we take pause. It’s not that we’re allergic to happiness, it’s just that we want our music to engage us in the way other genres do not. E.V.O fails in that regard, while succeeding in so many others. It’s a baffling experience of a record that demonstrates Almah’s veteran skills while also frustrating me to no end. It’s worthy of a listen if only to see whether or not you agree, but there’s undoubtedly worth in this music. It’s simply too inconsistent to give a higher recommendation. Who would have thought such happy music could put me in a bad mood?

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Test Your Metal Records
Websites: almah.com.br | facebook.com/official.almah
Releases Worldwide: September 23rd, 2016

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Written By: Eldritch Elitist

2016 has been a banner year for black metal of all styles. If the world ceased to exist overnight in some unforeseeable apocalyptic event, I feel I could stare out over the burning horizon in my last moments and think “yes… this year has served well as black metal’s last.” All the same, I became absolutely giddy when I managed to snag Cryfemal‘s ludicrously titled D6s6nt6rro as it hurtled into the depths of the AMG Rookie Pit. A one-man Spanish black metal project from a guy who calls himself Ebola, (yeah, really) Cryfemal has existed since 1996 and has an impressive number of releases under its belt. I’m not familiar with the band’s work pre-D6s6nti6rro, but learning that the project was just resurrected after a five year hiatus (sans drum machine for the first time) and that it’s unapologetically and hilariously loyal to the genre’s satanic roots had me ready for one hell of a throwback.

Given Cryfemal’s productive history, it’s alarming that D6s6nti6rro’s is so debut-like, with Ebola never venturing from the path laid by his influences. His sound is decidedly steeped in the genre’s second wave, with simple tremolo lines providing the backbone for each track a la classic Darkthrone alongside basic drum patterns and blastbeats. Ebola’s vocal delivery isn’t mind blowing, but his drunken barks are convincing enough. The guitar melodies are about as bare-bones as can be for the genre, but the surprising use of choir synths (ripped straight from Emperor‘s In the Nightside Eclipse) complement the guitars well to create a grim atmosphere that feels authentic and somewhat unique.

Yet the discerning black metal connoisseur cannot subsist on atmosphere alone. While I have some positive remarks for D6s6nti6rro, each positive point bears at least one caveat. I like the jangly, unsettling guitar tone, but it begins to grate long before the album’s conclusion because the simplistic riffs almost never stray away from higher octave ranges. Most tracks employ a tempo change and an acoustic interlude in an effort to add variety, yet these tricks are utilized ad nauseum until the opposite effect is achieved. What ultimately kills this record though is a lack of variety, which becomes so frustrating that I’ve resorted to raw statistics to express my grievances. I broke out a calculator and a metronome and figured out that for 41 percent of its runtime, D6s6nti6rro plods along at 83 beats per minute with riffs that are structurally and tonally identical to each other. This means 16 out of 39 minutes of this album are basically indistinguishable, making most of the experience a mind-numbingly boring one.

Despite the dullness, Cryfemal is able to muster one enjoyable composition in “Requiem Eterno”, a maelstrom of blastbeats and dense, unsettling riffs that sports D6s6nti3rro’s most unique melodies. Aside from that number there are a handful of moments throughout which momentarily pique my interest, but as each track contains a max of three riffs the mundanity is never fully alleviated.

I’d like to think that if D6s6nti6rro were merely monotonous I’d be more lenient with it, but a glaring production issue compounds its problems. For the most part the instruments are mixed appropriately with clarity standard for modern black metal, and a surprising amount of room is left open for the bass to breathe. But then there’s that damned guitar. The lack of octave variation in the riffs is a problem that’s only aggravated by the guitar’s unbearably high placement in the mix. It’s not so loud that it obscures the other instruments, but by the album’s end the pervasively elevated tone made my ears ring to the point where I always had to meditate in silence for a few moments to recover.

If the best bits were carved out of D6s6nti6rro and made into a sub-20 minute EP, it might have made for a pretty decent throwback to second wave black metal, as none of the individual tracks are bad on their own. Yet the utter lack of variety in riff composition, tempo, and song structure makes for an utterly dull record that’s made a downright annoying one by the troublesome guitar tone that refuses to stray from the upper registers. It’s sad really, because I would love to see more fantastic homages to the genre’s Norwegian forefathers that can stand toe to toe with the scene’s current innovators. There are certainly bands that fill this void already, and alas, Cryfemal is no Spanish Inquisition.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: ? | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Osmose Productions
Websites: facebook.com/cryfemal666
Release Dates: EU: 2016.09.30 | NA: 10.07.2016

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Written By: Dr Wvrm

War is hell. It’s also pretty metal. This defining aspect of the human condition has been touched upon by more bands than you can rattle your saber at. It’s even made its mark on black metal, as Eastern Front will be quick to remind you. Inspired by the brutal eastward incursion by the Axis during World War II, the Brits made a name for themselves with their deathened black offerings in 2010’s Blood on Snow before returning with 2014’s sublime Descent into Genocide. Plundering the history books for wartime atrocities has inspired some ferocious work from Eastern Front before, and EmpirE rides that Panzer down a solid if unsurprising path.

While occupying the same thematic headspace as Marduk and Endstille, Eastern Front musically emulates the latter more directly with their particular brand of “war torn black metal” (Their words, not mine). On paper, it’s not too exciting or original to pair thin, semi-melodic riffs with mid-register rasping, blasting drum beats, and the occasional spoken passage, but EmpirE executes well inside these bounds. Playing with such a common, easily exhaustible formula is like walking through a minefield, but Eastern Front consistently finds ways to stay interesting. The effort is buoyed by a knack for changing course right as the current heading starts to wear thin. Mimicking the tremolo riffs with variations in the chord bridges in “Veiled By Blood;” pairing memorable, Immortal-style riffing with an uncharacteristically short runtime on “The Fire Consumes;” splicing surprising tone shifts into the back half of “No Snow Falls for Sorrow;” every track contains little moments that keep the listener plugged in.

Though never as true a black/death mixture as a group like Archgoat, the death-tinged blitzkrieg that made up such a large part of the first two albums recedes on EmpirE, in part due to new vocalist Marder (ex-Daemona). Her rasps align more with Dani Filth than Mortuus; so much so in fact that I nearly missed a cameo from Mr. Filth himself on “Crimson Mourn.” There’s no lack of quality in Marder’s performance but the out-and-out growls that elevated Descent songs like “Katyn Forest” are sorely missed. Many of Descent’s death-influenced passages evaporate as well, leaving chillier, less stylistically varied intonations in their stead. Eastern Front proved apt at integrating snap-your-neck moments of brutality to their past offerings. Abandoning them now is like leaving the toppings off a pizza: everyone’s ok with cheese, but sausage, garlic, and Parmesan gets the party going.

However, don’t discount EmpirE entirely; it’s a good album that benefits from being more than the sum of its parts. Certain aspects are a bit monotonous for my taste, particularly the ever-pummeling drums, but the central direction still gets my head moving eight listens later. A spot-on DR10 mix never hurts, providing EmpirE space in the rare instances that require it, such as “Husks of Kursk.” Elsewhere, “The Fire Consumes” and “No Snow Falls for Sorrow” became quick additions to my 2016 playlist, while the somber recital of Mary Elizabeth Frye’s “Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep” on “1000 Winds That Blow” sent me down a Wikipedia rabbit hole in the same fashion as the best history-infused works.

I admire the job EmpirE does in keeping me interested, as I wasn’t exactly enticed with its addition-by-subtraction approach after the first spin. To my surprise, the record grew on me with subsequent listens. I look forward to getting my hands on a complete list of lyrics, as past albums have transcended typical carnage and glory war-ship with fascinating historical direction. Going forward, the death reserves may yet make a triumphant, last-minute return to the battlefield, but if they don’t, Eastern Front have at least earned another chance to fight on with their current war-torn squadron.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 160 kbps mp3
Label: Cacophonous Records
Website: wartornblackmetal.co.uk | facebook.com/EasternFront
Release Dates: EU: 2016.09.30 | NA: 10.07.2016

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It’s been said by some that Moldova sucks, but when it comes to metal, Latvia does not! Hailing from Latvia’s capital city (Riga), Eschatos have been constructing their brand of avant-garde/progressive black metal since 2012. Their fledgling release (Hierophanies) caught my attention with its eye-catching album art, but that’s not where it ended. Much like the lone Piranha jumping out at you from the packaging, the album hit with fervor, all sharp teeth and powerful jaws. Consisting of only five tracks and totaling a little over 31 minutes, the bite-sized debut proved an engaging beast, comparable in style to mid-period Darkthrone or Vreid, with well thought out stylistic shifts, attention to catchiness and skillful vocal application by front-woman Kristiāna Kārkliņa. Some time has passed and I’d all but given up in hearing from Eschatos again. Seems I was wrong – they’re back with vengeance on The Grand Noir.

On first impression of the album, it’s clear that Eschatos have been consistent in offering us only their best – six tracks that play out in under 42 minutes and leave you wanting more. Once again written, arranged and produced by Eschatos, mixing undertaken by Guntis Podvigs and Eschatos at Eschatos Studio and mastering by Hodila Records, The Grand Noir has a crisp and clear delivery that plays to the bands strengths. Instrumental opener, “The Grand Noir Rising,” leverages minimalism, featuring an almost Tool-like atmosphere. The track seems typical on first listen, but with repeat plays, nuances shine through adding to the edginess.

Enraged and brimming with Darkthrone styled bluster, “In Whole Alone is Good and Elsewhere Nowhere” bears the burning cross of a terrible title, but striking tempo changes and the introduction of Kristiāna’s snarl laced with a Carach Angren narrative will lock in the listener. Just like that, the stage is set for “The First, The Last and The Living,” “On The Divine Names” and “Feast of a Thousand Beasts.” Each works to maintain the Darkthrone-y vibe of “In Whole Alone” while also showcasing that Eschatos are not yet out of tricks or treats. Following a militant opener reminiscent of Marduk, “The First, the Last and the Living” offers skillful bass riffing that snaps and pops re-iterating the strength of the production choices made by Eschatos. My only gripe, is that despite some interesting guitar lines, melodic one moment and idiosyncratic the next, there’s a slight lack of intensity that niggles away, probably because I’m thinking about what could have been were a gent like Mortuus (Marduk) leading this horde.

“Feast of a Thousand Beasts” tumbles in with all the aplomb and eccentricity of a group of jesters on parade. Irregularly timed notes contribute to otherworldly melodies and recurring chants, giving the track a mischievous life of its own. The Grand Noir progresses towards an odd but beautiful ending hinting at a blend of progressive death merchants In Mourning and depressive black metal sad boys Eudaimony, Eschatos switch over to an almost Agalloch-like black metal vocal style to deliver “Sterile Nails and Thunderbowels.” Abrasion wears through the sludgy fuzzed out rhythm guitar-work, and this along with black ‘n roll frenzy and disconcerting sound effects, loads the back-end of the album with some highly enjoyable gloom.

When compared to its predecessor, The Grand Noir comes across as more mature and the slightly more seasoned. If I were to table a complaint, I could say that “The Grand Noir Rising” and “The First, The Last and The Living” could lose a few moments off the back end, but I’d be nitpicking. The Grand Noir is a respectable album with an inviting production style that’s best enjoyed as a whole. Just think of it as Iced Tea at a lemonade stand.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Starwolf Records
Websites: facebook.com/eschatos.band
Releases Worldwide: October 7th, 2016

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Written By: Lord Lucan

Once almost exclusively the preserve of floppy-haired teenagers, metalcore is a style that seems to delight and depress in equal measure, depending on whom you talk to. There is a smattering of bands who fall into the genre however, such as Heaven Shall Burn, While She Sleeps and Crossfaith, to name but a few, who manage to demonstrate that with the right nous it’s in fact possible to produce a substantially more wholesome, mature record than your stereotypical ‘core’ band. Formed in Syracuse in 2001 out of the ashes of local straight-edge vegancore outfit Earth Crisis, Freya have been churning out sludgy metalcore, with much emphasis on their hardcore beginnings, for over a decade now. They even survived an Earth Crisis reunion, albeit with vocalist Karl Buechner as the only remaining EC member still in the lineup. Grim represents their fifth full-length studio album, but is it worth saving up your pennies for?

In a word: no. As already alluded to, Grim is not your average metalcore record, with big fat riffs and a strong sludgy element forming the basis of Freya’s sound, and nary a whiny sing-along chorus in sight. Buechner’s hardcore roots are on show for all to see in his bruising, attitude-laden vocal delivery, and recently recruited sticksman Dirk Verbeuren, of long-time Soilwork and now Megadeth fame, puts in a typically solid performance behind the kit. On the face of it then, Grim seems to have decent potential, so why does it miss the mark so spectacularly? Well, rather like a clapped out compact with an enormous farty exhaust can, there’s plenty of grunt but not much substance; in other words, it’s just a bit boring.

Without the soaring melodies of some of their more accessible metalcore brethren, Freya really needed to pull out all of the compositional stops in order to craft something inspiring, and they have resoundingly failed in this department, as Grim is utterly forgettable. Being the martyr that I am, for the purposes of this review I’ve listened to the album in its entirety more times than I care to reflect upon, and yet I still struggle to recall one riff or song from memory; that is how unremarkable Grim is. It has all the hallmarks of a record thrown together for the sake of it, rather than to showcase new ideas or convey a message, and ends up sounding fatigued and cumbersome as a result.

While Earth Crisis were always pretty good at what they did, their activist status meant that they could get away with the odd duff song here or there providing their core message (no pun intended) endured. Freya don’t have such a luxury to fall back on. Buechner’s vocals just don’t have the clout that they used to, sounding more like a man going through the motions rather than delivering the kind of passionate sermon that characterized his early work with Earth Crisis, and with a palpable lack of adequate songwriting, everything feels formulaic and bland. The slightly soupy production ramps up the sludge factor somewhat, as exemplified in opener “The Alchemist” and “Hunter in the Dark,” however even here Freya fail to truly deliver, producing a sound vaguely reminiscent of Lord Dying but with most of the good bits sieved out. This unfortunately leaves us with a record that suffers from an acute case of support band syndrome – purely serviceable but not much more.

The best compliment I can pay Freya is that Grim is not actively objectionable, and it certainly won’t leave the listener running for the hills with their hands clasped over their ears. That said, it’s something of a beige Corolla experience in that it does what it’s designed to do with neither frivolity nor passion, reveling in its mere functionality – hardly characteristics indicative of Record o’ the Year material. If you’re a fanatical Earth Crisis fan and have a burning desire to keep Karl Buechner in asparagus and sparkling water for a while longer, then it may be worth a punt, but for anyone else it’s simply a lot of effort for not much reward.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Fast Break! Records
Website: facebook.com/freyaband
Releases Worldwide: September 30th, 2016

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Written By: Ferrous Beuller

In the context of reviewing an album, it’s surely one of the most cardinal of fundamentals to avoid the dreaded track-by-track format. The approach is dull, seems amateurish, and is usually indicative of a barrage of verbose superlatives, almost entirely allergic to the mighty Oxford comma. So what, oh what, is a Ferrous to do when faced with an album consisting of only 5 songs of spiraling, sludge-inspired doom? Especially when one of said spirals clocks in at nearly 19 minutes. Dutch four-piece, Ortega are here to lay down such a gauntlet with their brand of, self-styled “Esoteric Doom.” If you were considering a lazy scroll down the page to sophomore Sacred States’ allocated score, then think again, because this album is worth the read. So strap yourselves in and prepare for the verbosity, and I’ll tell you exactly why it’s quite so good.

Frankly, having never heard of, let alone listened to Ortega, I was entirely unprepared for what to expect. The band indulges in a heady brew of sludged-up doom with accents of post-metal and drone, so it should come as little surprise to find that Sacred States keeps it heavy; the album’s not so modest track lengths are riddled with tumults of planet-sized riffing a la Neurosis and Lazarus Blackstar. The opening combo of “Strong Eyes” and “Maelstrom” each showcase gargantuan rhythms and stripped down post-metal before building to devastating percussive crescendos. “Maelstrom,” Sacred States’ most accessible moment, thunders along like a doomed-out, lost cut from Chaos A.D, whilst vocalist/guitarist, Richard Postma, proceeds to ruin his throat – his voice an authentic, hoarse bellow.

Special mention must go to the epic (in the truest sense of the word) “Crows,” which was originally released as an EP back in 2014. Its melancholic bass intro eventually gives way to a My Dying Bride flavored lead before running the gamut of doom-heavy riffs and introspective, abyssal soundscapes. At 18 + minutes, it remains engaging and vital despite its enhanced run time. Sacred States metes out a compelling collection of darkly emotive odes to a solitary listening experience; as such, Ortega don’t write casual music and the audience this appeals to will likely be relatively specialized. Those with compromised attention spans [Read as: moss peepers. – Steel Druhm] need not apply. After the concussive quality of the album’s openers, the pseudo-instrumental interlude of “Descending Ladders” feels a tad self-indulgent – its lumbering pace, overlaid with warped guitar lines is, I’m sure, meant as a pallet cleanser, paving the way for album centre-piece “Crows,” but instead ends up almost entirely unnecessary – bolted on for pretension’s sake. Self-editing seems a lost art in metal today, and when three of the five songs breach the eleven minute mark, its absence is more glaring than usual.

A dense negativity resounds throughout Sacred States, and the production lends itself to the pervasive atmosphere. The down-tuning on the guitars almost occupies the same low-end frequency as Frank De Boer’s bass, and with Postma’s vocals sitting back in the mix, the album takes on a cold, celestial quality – his narrations seething up from the ether. With a cleaner and more compressed finish, much of the shading of Sacred States would be lost in translation. The abject drama of closer “Void,” featuring Mories of Gnaw Their Tongues, is palpable, thanks in no small part to the album’s overall sound. These guys put some serious time to make this as effective and affecting as possible.

Although an intense experience, and undoubtedly not for everyone, Ortega have created an incredible piece of art, earning extra metal cred for doing so from the very depths of obscurity. Is it perfect? No. Is it earth shatteringly original? Maybe not. It is, however, immersive, emotional and heavy as hell, and deceptively replayable. If you were one of the many chomping at the bit for new material from Inter Arma and Neurosis (and you should have been) then fear not – your 2016 sojourn into the trenches of heaviness isn’t quite over yet. Ortega demand you include Sacred States in your ritual ear bludgeoning. Be there, or thrice be damned as the proverbial square.¹

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: ConSouling Sounds Records
Websites: ortegaband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/ortegadoom
Releases Worldwide: October 5th, 2016

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Written By: GardensTale

One of the best ways to catch my attention with a promo blurb is to compare yourself to Clutch. Not only are the Marylanders among my all-time favorites, their instantly recognizable sound – courtesy of a host of imaginative rock ‘n roll riffs and the amazing throat and lyrics of Neil Fallon – hasn’t inspired a horde of imitators. Finland-based Kremlin had only this magical name listed as an influence on the promo, so it was with ample anticipation that I first fired up their self-titled debut, preparing myself for a wall of bluesy stoner metal, unaware if a new band could live up to their muse or if I was about to be hit with a flaccid clone.

Well, Kremlin are certainly no Clutch. While the Finns do play stoner rock with both feet in the blues, they never get up to the kind of speed Earth Rocker or Psychic Warfare did; instead they take a more laid back approach, only really picking up steam past the halfway mark with the punchy “Lizards.” Disappointment strikes as they drop that momentum immediately by following with 2 and a half minutes of blowing wind (“Lizards Part II”). It’s not an inspired padding of the 6 track EP, and my listening experience improved significantly the moment I tossed the dead weight from my playlist. While this issue is easily overcome (but not forgotten), the awkward lyrics and broken English are more difficult to ignore. “Ghost Flyers” repeats variations on ‘I see the ghost flyers of the sky’ throughout the song, and “World is Coming Down” is filled with awkward turns of phrase that undermine the otherwise dark bluesy groove. I realize the band is Finnish so English is a second language to them, and lyrics are generally the least important aspect of metal, but when it’s this problematic it’s a big distraction and can lose the band potential fans on the first few spins.

It would be a shame if you let this turn you off the band though, because Kremlin is a real solid debut in spite of these flaws. “Ghost Flyers” gets the party started with a great playful riff using an addictive twang somewhere between country rock and surf. The lyrics may be repetitive and dumb, but they’re sung with a sympathizing enthusiasm. While the vocals aren’t always spot on, they have a relaxed bluesy timbre that suits the groovy tunes. “Cruhn” contains an excellent chorus of grand and spacey blues metal and a surprisingly subtle bridge, while “Thought You Were Dead” serves up hazy desert blues with a memorable head-bobbing, foot-tapping hook that doesn’t seem to get boring even after repeated spins. The songs are accentuated with synths straight out of seventies sci-fi, which works well on some tracks (“Cruhn”) and less on others (“Ghost Flyers”). It evens out to an interesting touch that will need more development as the band finds its sound.

The biggest surprise however is the production, which is especially good for a debut EP. While the vocals could’ve been lower in the mix it’s never a bother, and the master is full, warm and blissfully dynamic. The bass is audible but not overpowering, the drums suitably crisp and the guitars switch between a perfect punchy groove and that lovely Southern twang. Kremlin seem to have aimed for the perfect balance between old school haziness and modern clarity and hit the nail on the head.

No, Kremlin is no Clutch. They don’t have that kind of a rambunctious rock ‘n roll attitude or the penchant for brilliant lyrics. But they do have a debut with 5 solid, laid back, mature tracks, great riffs and hooks, and best of all, they’re crystallizing their own take on bluesy stoner metal instead of just following in the footsteps of others. Kremlin does suffer from a windy monkey on its back with the superfluous “Lizards Part II” and a lyrical albatross round its neck. But in the end, the ups easily outweigh the downs. I got the blues, and it left me hungry for more.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Svart Records
Websites: facebook.com/kremlinfinland
Releases Worldwide: October 7th, 2016

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