Anger and frustration over where we are in 2026 is palpable as we watch things erode around us, including any semblance of a government that has the plight of the people in mind. Why worry about the downtrodden (or anyone else not in the elite class) when there is money to make and people to exploit?

Long-running doom machine Solace are marking three decades as a band with “Fading Failing Ruin,” an aptly named record that drips with venom and annoyance as we try to exist in an increasingly more hostile world. The band—vocalist/keyboardist Justin Goins, guitarists Justin Skyler Daniels and Tommy Southard, bassist Mike Sica, drummer Tim Schoenleber—smokes and pummels over nine tracks and more than an hour of heat that also visits ’90s-style rock and psychedelic strains as they make their case that things are coming apart, and we should be angrier about it.

“Spiral Will” powers open, Goins singing taking command, the chorus binding as keys glaze. This has a great throwback doom feel, the solo lathering as energy combusts, and every element blends into a smokescreen. “Fettered to a Stone” fires up, cold singing swaggering, Goins prodding, “We’re declining!” Obviously he means we as a society and not the band. The playing darkens as the soloing muscles, bubbling with heart and dual leads, Goins lashes out over surviving “in a world that lives to see you burn in hell.” “A God Changes His Plans” sounds like early 90s heavy rock, sort of like Warrior Soul, as an example. The pace drives hard, with emotions seething, a dirtier, grungier approach poking wounds. “A future born of a dope-sick mother,” Goins jabs, the playing landing some final blows. “Wrath’s Object (The Big Fall)” is the longest track here, running a healthy 14:45, a slow-melting, scene-setting first half of the song mainly letting the fog spread. About seven minutes in, the guitars strike, the leads add smoke, the emotion spikes as Goins calls, “Last look before the stitches close.” The soloing boils as the song snarls with anger, trudging and churning, coming to a fiery end. Not sure this song had to be quite this long, but the second half really hammers.

“Culling the Herd” is a quicker gust, guitars speeding and mounting  spiral attack, the singing washed out. The playing stomps harder, landing blunt strikes, Goins calling, “To envy the free means bending the knee.”  “Beyond Below” has heated riffs, a punchy pace, and a powerful chorus. “And the world fell away, our hearts filled with nothing,” Goins lashes, the words spat, the dirtier pace digging in as playing lights up, strong soloing spilling lava, heat rippling as the noise pierces. “Malengine (The Scaffold)” starts with a Rush-like riff, clean guitars releasing heat, thorny singing dragging you over the ground. The guitars add sinew as the leads glimmer before turning tougher again, creating blisters. The emotion floods with electricity as the guitars swim through a minefield.  “Every Day Is a Loaded Gun” chugs and thrashes, a confrontational tone setting the key, keys glazing through the turbulence. The playing swells into a psyche wash, the singing numbing, acoustics joining the fray to add more texture. The playing picks up the pace and lumbers, organs gushing as the final punches land. Closer “Ridden” runs 10:23 and explodes with hearty singing, a bluesy swagger, and the leads firing up and smudging. The soloing takes off and crashes, balmy melodies repeating, and almost ritualistic bloodletting tracing over old scars. “What the hell would you crawl through if you thought you could change that broken part of you for something even you could not degrade?” Goins repeats, boiling through reflection, anger, and frustration, the finality crushing.

“Fading Failing Ruin” once again has Solace offering a beefy, generously served slab of music that is overflowing with emotion and pain, something no listener could deny. A bit of editing and some brevity really could make this band a lot meaner, as they clearly have the tools to be one of doom’s deadlier acts. Less—and just a little less—could go a long way for Solace, though this still is a mighty, effective album with plenty of high points.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/SolaceBand/

To buy the album, go here: https://spkr.store/collections/solace

For more on the label, go here: https://magneticeyerecords.bandcamp.com/

There are records that, when you put them on, you can tell this isn’t just a collection of songs, but a lived experience. You can tell from the grit, the humanity, the shed blood, the intensity, and indication that every ounce of the musicians poured guts into the songs. These aren’t records you put on and forget. They linger in your mind like a ghost.

Irish doom/sludge pounders Soothsayer deliver that kind of experience on “The Unbinding,” their second record and first for Apocalyptic Witchcraft. Over five tracks and 45 minutes, the band—vocalist Liam Hughes, guitarists Marc O’Grady and Con Doyle, bassist Pavol Rosa, drummer Gerard O’ Callaghan—delivers darkened hell, informed by grief and rage but also delving into the essence of their home country. This is a record that weighs more than it seems on the surface. It will batter you to your core but also might carve a pathway to confronting your own chaos.

“Eroding the Sky” opens mystically before driving down the hammer, ripping with throaty howls, slowing just to snarl at you, sorrow boiling your blood. Yells barrel as the tone darkens, lurching playing grows muscular, and Hughes wails, “Move past the barriers!” Leads stretch as the heat spits sparks, driving harder and punishing, melting into strangeness. “Sooner Acceptance” drips as the singing delivers pain, trudging as the growls bury, the leads increasing the steam’s stickiness. Guitars cloud as the speed triumphs, ravaging and unloading, meaty blows breaking jaws, the energy spiking. Guitars swim as the drums rumble, sounds simmering as the cloud coverage blocks the sun.

“Endless Shesha” is doomy and sullen, growls menacing, pounding away as the guitars flex muscle. “Chaos inside me!” Hughes howls as the playing pulls back a bit before blowing up all over, storming with furious tension, dropping the final hammers. “The Vine” is eerie and chilling before howls erupt, and the playing sinks in its teeth. Guitars well and smear as desperation fills the air, the bass leading as cloudy melodies increase, growls decimate, and a sinister laugh sends gasps under water. Closer “A Vague Shimmer” is the longest track, running 12:54, throat buzzing haunts as bellowing singing swells, doom crawling over bloodied rock. The singing grips as the guitars moan, yells echoing in the building storm, emotions flooding. Vocals slash as the band delves slightly into progressive territory, growls marring as clean singing warbles, whirry strangeness swallowing.

“The Unbinding” is a fully encompassing experience, one that further establishes Soothsayer’s standing in the doom world and trumpets them as a band that deserves and demands your attention. This record is both brutal and breathtaking, a journey that pulls you through their homeland and into frustration and anger burning in their hearts. This whole thing smokes and dominates, shaking you to your skeletal structure.

For more on the band, go here: https://soothsayerdoom.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://orcd.co/apw066

For more on the label, go here: https://apocalypticwitchcraft.co.uk/

Death metal isn’t required to be ugly and unsavory to the untested, but it always sounds really good that way. For all of the advancements and boundary destruction the sub-genre’s creators have injected into this challenging form of metal, the gross, bloody elements never seem to go away. Good. It’s a big reason why we’re here.

Canadian death metal beasts Coprolith adhere to the mangling, ferocious elements of their chosen style, and their debut full-length “Putrescence” is more than enough evidence to tell you that you’re in for a bruising excursion. The band—vocalist K.D., guitarists J.H. and A.K, bassist A.M, drummer S.A—digs into the bogs and shallow graves to mine their content, and they regurgitate a thashing, sometimes doomy brand of death metal that is unforgiving and always ready to attack.

“Sentenced to the Grave” dawns in eerie sounds, and then everything rips open, gory death bubbling to the surface, growls slithering as the playing decimates. A sooty fury mauls, the tension bashes away, and the leads drive into a cavernous horror that burns out. The title track ravages, the growls rattling your bones, the playing wrecking completely, the guitars dizzying wildly. Mauls pummel as the grime collects, growls curdle, and a balmy, doomy storm hangs overhead. “Defiling Incantation” is the longest song here, running 7:05, gutting playing and infernal growls buckling, the fiery thrust engorging and battering. Tides turn darker, a molten dash spreading, the pressure building inside your head, the heat spiraling as the guitars increase the heat before ending in ashes.

“Birthed by Remorseless Flames” trudges in, howls gurgling, the drums caving in every chest within a 50-mile radius. Things get faster in a hurry, the drums dusting as the riffs spiral madly, the growls scarring as the guitars fire up, the final blasts destroying. “Another Skull to Claim” delivers menacing riffs and guttural, doomy violence, smoke thickening as growl gurgle, the guitars snaking through mud. The playing comes unglued, the guitars gaining momentum, the feral cries stretching and draining the final drops. Closer “Possessed by Incoherent Violent Suggestions” is sinister and destructive, the pace tearing, growls snarling as the guitars send spatter. The vocals spasm as a doomy pall spreads over everything, slowly writing in horror, hissing to a smothering finish.

“Putrescence” is a disgusting, hammering first record from Coprolith that goes for your throat in order to tear it out of you. These Canadian demons hammer away both physically and mentally, smothering with death metal that revels in darkness and grime as much as it does blood and guts. This is a ferocious first blast from this band, an unsettling, devastating display that takes you apart limb from limb.

For more on the band, go here: https://coprolith.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/coprolith-putrescence-lp/

For more on the label, go here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/

Whether or not you believe in the concept of a devil, you can’t deny there is evil, unease, and diabolical intent in so many of the things that surround us. Be that the government, grifters, liars, cheats, what have you, you always have to peel back the layers to find the true underpinnings. But that doesn’t mean there also can’t be pleasure in the darkness.

“The Devil and All His Works” is the new record from long-running UK doom outfit Witchsorrow, and if you’ve been along for the ride since their inception or at some point along the way, you’ll find a lot with which to identify on these seven tracks and 48 minutes. The album title is inspired by the Dennis Wheatley’s 1971 book of the same name, and the band—vocalist/guitarist Nick “Necroskull” Ruskell, bassist Emily “Witch” Ruskell, drummer Scott Taylor (David Wilbraham played drums on the album)—delves into deep, smoking doom metal that feels foreboding and dangerous but also revels in heathenism and decadence, showing two signs of the coin of darkness.

“Omnia Finiuntur” opens, an 11:30-long opus that dawns with doom bells chiming, organs swelling, and the charred playing adding pressure, Necroskull’s vocals flexing and smearing. The aura immediately is sinister, buzzing and twisting, driving even harder as the playing toys with your psych as the heaviness and smoke coverage expand. Fuzz accumulates as organs spill, and the doom mass peaks, the fog subsiding as keys usher us away. “Bacchus” has guitars sweltering and a burly heat, the singing darkening as the playing pummels, the soloing heating up and testing wills. The humidity spikes as the singing echoes, visions swimming in your head, guitars scorching madly. “Hades Chains” punches in, spewing ash, blistering as washed-out vocals give off a dreamy effect. Howls then mangle as the punishment scathes, Serena Cherry (Svalbard/Noctule) adds thorns via her fiery screams, the muck chugging through mud, thrashing as the vocals strangle, and the fires finally go out.

“Altar” brings darkness as the ball coils, the playing waylays, and the singing hypnotizes, echoes rippling through the clouds. Gloom and heaviness collide as the guitars add muscle, Nick’s wails sending coarse waves. The soloing catches fire and swelters, making you sweat out all your toxins. “In Triumph We Rot!!!” is thrashy and direct, coming at you with blades windmilling, Necroskull wailing, “Rise from the grave, forever doomed!” Bells echo as the soloing floods your senses, landing heavy blows, the electricity darting through your bloodstream. “Lamentation” is a quick interlude, doom slithering over, guitars jarring with filth, a Hamlet quote playing that ends with, “And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?” That leads to closer … “A Quintessence of Dust.” Slow-driving power bruises as the singing lashes, the playing eating away at you, drubbing as the pace catches fire. “Bring out your dead!” Necroskull howls, the soloing exploding with lava, the playing getting fiery and faster, slipping back into pace, the doom bells that greeted us leading us to the grave.

“The Devil and All His Works” is pretty quintessential Witchsorrow, and if you’ve been on their journey alongside them, the surroundings will be familiar, if a little more charred around the edges. Their yarns about the devil and his intertwining into every aspect of life is both a celebration of heathen behavior and a cautionary tale served with white-hot doom that aims to draw blood. This is another strong building block on Witchsorrow’s wicked foundation that they treat with chaos and soot.

For more on the band, go here: https://witchsorrowdoom.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://deathwishinc.com/collections/church-road/products/witchsorrow-the-devil-and-all-his-works

Or here (Europe): https://churchroadrecords.com/collections/church-road-releases/products/witchsorrow-the-devil-and-all-his-works-pre-order

For more on the label, go here: https://churchroadrecords.com/

While metal and heavy music both have gone through major changes and advancements over the decades, emotional nakedness only has a constant home when it comes to anger, frustration, and death. Bands and artists that aren’t afraid to tell you how they feel and how that tests their will aren’t plentiful enough, and for that, thankfully we have Warning.

Having disappeared after 2006’s “Watching From a Distance” and a 2010 EP, the band returns here with “Rituals of Shame,” a title that basically acts as a summary for this band’s and vocalist/guitarist Patrick Walker’s life work. In fact, a lot of this new 5-track, 45-minute record shines deeply from the 40 Watt Sun oeuvre with slower tracks and Walker’s voice drizzling over with lyrics centered on a particularly tough stretch of life. Pain, guilt, doubt, sorrow, and love and in abundance, and that ability to show that unabashedly should inspire others to do the same. Walker, joined by longtime members Wayne Taylor (guitar) and Marcus Hatfield (bass), as well as Andrew Prestidge (drums, also from 40 Watt Sun), never shies away from his wounds and presents them here in as transparent a manner as possible, with the band providing the proper black drapery. It’s moving and unforgettable.

The title track opens, a 12:49-long epic that is the longest track here, unleashing the band’s trademark sorrow with rich singing from Walker, who always finds a way to jab under your ribs into your heart. Leads sweep as the pace continues its gradual pathway, slithering as Walker calls, ” I must watch in petrified silence, and I can’t close my eyes to it,” the playing burning and smoking. Guitars lull you into spacious melodies, pure emotion chilling your guts, the final lines tracking into darkness, blurring into mystery. “Stations” has guitars churning and the singing coasting, Walker lamenting, ” Holding on, cradled to the bruise-black sky, swollen with the secrets of a living lie, pour me out like silver in a common world.” Easy to create that broken photo in your mind. Darkness laps as the singing glides, Walker leveling, “It’s just another vast, aching hunger; an emptiness of another kind.” The playing wrenches as the blood drips slowly, hanging in the air as doom waves lap, crushing as colors mar, sadness flowing like an everlasting tributary into oblivion.

“Night Comes Down” enters amid gushing guitars and energy sweltering, Walker wondering, “You learn to live with it, but how did ever I believe it so long as the whole and total expression of love?” Drums tease as the high hat grazes, folding in further melodies and faint light ripples, pummeling psyches, ashen leads dragging trails across the ground. “Landing Lights” is the shortest song at 6:28, drums spitting gravel, the singing clouding as Walker sings, “But I never gave that light away, I hold it to my heart, it’s always there, but how would you know, when I’ve been away so long?” That’s a crusher of a sequence. Guitars fire up and get muddier, the pace later numbing, dripping gently into a pool of glimmering doom. Closer “Teacher” gushes in, Walker taking reins and leveling with, “I will not be unafraid; time will turn to me.” The leads inject grays and blues, continuing to pull back the tempo as everything sinks into your bloodstream. The playing goes cold and teases fading before the guitars carve an icy pathway, the singing bursts anew, and the heat leaves lightly scorched flesh, Walker ending with, “But I can’t see beyond you, and I can’t count to the ways I love you.”

“Rituals of Shame” has as much Warning DNA as it has strains from 40 Watt Sun, and it makes for a gentler, darker, and even more emotionally vulnerable record that will take multiple visits to fully digest. Walker never has hidden his bloody heart nor his pain, and the band stretches out these confessions and devotions with a steady hand and a doom power that makes a home for dealing with your own woes. It’s great to have this band back, as many of us could use an outlet to unleash what’s been burdening us for so long.  

For more on the band, go here: https://www.warningband.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://www.relapse.com/pages/warning-rituals-of-shame

For more on the label, go here: https://www.relapse.com/

Every time someone waves off the horrific state in which we find our nation, and seeing that spill out into other parts of the world, I wonder if they’re just an awful fuck who gets off on human suffering or if they have no interest in anything that goes on beyond their boundaries. People rising up here and elsewhere is heartwarming, but it’s only as start.

“Exegesis at the End of Time” is the fourth long-player from Make, who combine doom, sludge, noise rock, and several other dark elements to make their music as punishing as it is. They see the struggle, one that encompasses us all, and if we’re not prepared to resist power structures, we cannot survive. This is the fourth record for the band—guitarist/vocalist Scott Endres, bassist/guitarist/vocalist Spencer Lee, bassist/synth player/vocalist Aaron Smithers, drummer John Crouch—and their first as a four piece, and every moment on this album stretches you mentally. There are volcanic gusts, depressing doses of reality, and existential struggle baked into these six tracks, and the entire album agitates and motivates, reminding you darkness hovers.

“The End of the Night” is the longest track here, running 11:10 and quivering and tingling, guitars picking up, the bass leading, pathways traced before the detonation sends bodies flying. The fury melts as noises dashes, roars cave in buildings, and the brutality serves the scathing, acidic leads. Yells peel back eyelids as the bass flexes, the playing pummeling one more time before landing in clouds. “The Judge” is burly with howls punching, guitars storming, and the pace stomping out guts. Barks tear new wounds as muscular playing quakes the ground, meaty guitars land blows, and sounds spread, vibrating before expiring. “Forking Paths” glows, clean singing soothing, the bass humming in the darkness. The singing turns to shrieks and back again, whirry keys swimming among the stars, the playing lulling you into a false sense of safety. Screams ignite as the guitars burn even brighter, sweltering and crushing until a sudden end.

“Chimera” has a doomy burn, the yells scald, and the playing drives hard, the bass dropping cement blocks on your chest. Screams erupt and scorch flesh, the pressure builds along with the heaviness, and a blazing fury rockets everything into the sun. “The Spectacle” has a tricky, post-punk feel for the first stretch, guitars fogging as howls scar, the tempo smothering as guitars ooze a sticky glaze. The heat climbs as the guitars dizzy, staggering back out into the dark. Closer “The Augur” slithers in, melodies collecting, the bass stomping as monstrous shouts emerge. It feels like the room is spinning as heated playing surrounds, savagery tearing away as screams ripple. The pace stomps and shakes foundations, crushing and grinding boulders as if they are nothing.

“Exegesis at the End of Time” feels like your world falling apart, and for too many people, theirs just happens to be doing that right now. Make refuse to make a habit of hiding the vitriol or pain, and even when there’s a glimmer of hope, you know a gray cloud is a day away. This is a frustrated, agitated beast, a product of its times, and the perfect elixir for relief from the constant barrage of madness.

For more on the band, go here: https://thebandmake.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://accidentprone.com/product/exegesis-at-the-end-of-time-ap044/

For more on the label, go here: https://accidentprone.com/

Death metal long ago passed by the graveyards and swamps and went interstellar and psychological, yet that hasn’t fully sunken until the past decade or so when bands such as Tomb Mold and Blood Incantation stretched the boundaries further. They weren’t the only ones, obviously, just the most recently effective, and it’s helped broaden perspectives.

Costa Rican force Astriferous arrived three years ago with an ambitious debut “Pulsations From the Black Orb,” initially revealing their colors, and they double down on “Atavistic Unraveling,” their sophomore record that continues to reach past expectations. Over six tracks and 36 minutes, the band—guitarist/vocalist Federico Gutiérrez, guitarist/vocalist Felipe Tencio, bassist/vocalist José Pablo Phillips, drummer José María Arrea—economically spreads their fury and imagination yet still manages to maintain a vicious, barbaric edge. It’s like a dream where you bleed out in space.

“Carriers of the Curse” bursts with guitars chugging, a sooty fury spreading its reach, howls clawing as the temperatures scorch. Hellish chaos destroys, shrieks frying as synth beams crash through clouds, bristling as smoke spreads, reaching into “The Floating Catacombs” that mauls right away. Howls combust as the playing dusts, the synth cooling the waters, guitars snaking into a fast, dizzying thrust. Soloing stretches as the humidity climbs, the drums mash, and the guitars collect into a hellish storm cloud. “Dissolution of Eternity” mangles and strangles, the growls engorging and blinding, the playing unloading layers of sludge. Guitars cloud as the band thrashes, growls lurching through devastation, fury racing, and the last gasps spitting exhaust.

“Proto Embryo (The Third Tribulation)” has a techy, blazing start, the power decimating as guitars strangle, the pace ignites, and the leads trample. The soloing stuns as the rhythmic pulses wrench, the growls punish, and the drumming powders skulls. “Arcane Demonomania” has the drums encircling, the speed blasting, rubbery leads grasping necks, ferocious howls exploding through walls. Guitars chew muscle as the growls lash against bone and muscle, churning to an end. “Mnemonic Phenomena” has the guitars hurtling into the cosmos, manic calls stirring psychosis, devastating as the guitars race around new angles. Drums pound as grinding hell opens around you, and then things turn into slower, doomier waters, darkening before spiraling away. Closer “Resonance Cascade” blares with synth beams, a deliberate pace shaking walls, drums kicking in as things gradually get faster. The pace shifts and wrecks, murk spreading through your bloodstream, howls retching as the gloom collects. Keys float above the chaos, guitars channel psychosis, and then everything burns into a dreamy, cosmic synth glow. 

“Atavistic Unraveling” swallows you whole with aggressive, yet immersive death metal that feels like it sweeps you into another dimension, or at least another world. This is battering, psychologically challenging fury, death that isn’t as interested in blood as it is in taking you on an adventure that will scar your psyche. There are a lot of bands doing similar things at the moment, and Astriferous are hellbent on making their trip a more violent one that leaves abrasions on your skin and mind.

For more on the band, go here: https://astriferous.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/astriferous-atavistic-unraveling-lp/

O here: https://store.pulverised.net/

For more on the label, go here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/

And here: https://www.pulverised.net/

Doing a site like this one, I get asked for recommendations of bands and or records to seek out. People hilariously think I know shit. Anyway, I usually can rattle a few off the top of my head of metal or heavy music I think might resonate with them. A few questions later, I can determine whether or not I want to freak them out.

French black metal confounders Non Serviam very likely would not be a name that comes out of my mouth, a strange thing to say about a band I’m about to praise. Calling them black metal isn’t even entirely right as they blend so many elements from other sub-genres, but it’s closest I can get. On their mind-shredding new record “La Lune Dont Mon Âme Est Pleine” (roughly translates to “The Moon That Fills My Soul”), the duo of Void and Moon gain inspiration from the tale of Diana and Actaeon, covering attraction, violence, and sorrow, the aftermath often too bloody to handle. As for this record, every track is its own beast, entirely different from what surrounds it, making each demon its own entity. It easily can terrify and send less delicate ears fleeing. The rest of us will be happy to indulge.

“La Lune dont mon âme est pleine – Part II” burns in, electro pulses frying brainwaves, howls gurgling as noise corrodes. Sound clips warp as howls spatter, the strangeness ending in acid. “Déesse morte” has a strange guitar wash and an almost chambery approach, the singing numbing as keys flutter and chime. The fog thickens as the swirling attack dizzies, calm gives may to mania, and an eruption leaves bodily gashes no salve can sooth. “Emile Henry” is about the French anarchist, and the track rains blades in a mechanical black metal storm, blistering as the hellish attack keeps growing more intense. Sounds infect and swirl as keys murmur, and the chaos spits nails again, choking and blazing as mental fry sets in deeply. “Victory To Kali” features vocals from M. Kawashima of the legendary Sigh, and it’s a battle with a monster, shrieks peeling paint off walls, mangling with crazed ferocity. The playing drives harder as the cries feel like they’re coming from a person in a boiling cauldron, a sense of calm injected suddenly.

“La Valse des enfants morts” enters amid cooling keys, and then the howls erupt, sending everything into a tizzy, mystical notes chilling, murderous screams taunting. Keys add an odd bit of humidity as clouds warp, everything slowing to a frigid end. “Everything About You” dawns, and instantly it’s vicious, clawing at eyes, the keys dancing in rain clouds, the guitars teasing before ratcheting up the tense vibes, making everything very uncomfortable, zapping into oblivion. “Actéon” opens with a clip from “Gen V,” specifically from Marie Moreau (“You’re fucked up … I’m fucked up …”) and it basks in haze as howls and whispers team up, your head feeling like it’s swimming in Vaseline. The vocals sicken as the guitars soar, ending in a buzzing flood. “Abject sacrifice” sinks into melting guitars, a female voice haunting, the weather worsening as screams erupt. The pace is blistering, voices spiraling as guitars trickle down your back, throbbing as the savagery peaks, slipping into a frosty sheath. Closer “La Lune dont mon âme est pleine – Part III” builds off the opener, chilling, a female voice soothing nerves, howls crumbling over top that, melodies obscured in filth. There is a stretch that is moody and gothy, the drums plaster as screams waylay, bleeding blackness and, all of a sudden, horns attack and instantly leave. The filth thickens as the torment mounts, dissolving into a dreamy void.

Non Serviam are tough to classify and just as difficult to feel comfort around, but that undoubtedly is the point. “La Lune Dont Mon Âme Est Pleine” covers the ideas of desire, violence, and its aftermath, and it makes for a pretty heavy statement on these times, which are eating away at us. This record and band are not for listeners who don’t desire a challenge. It’s not easy to digest, it confounds, and it poisons, with the band’s refusal to submit to any rigid standards only adding to the psychological wounds.   

For more on the band, go here: https://non-serviam.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://laybarerecordings.com/release/la-lune-dont-mon-ame-est-pleine-lbr074

For more on the label, go here: https://laybarerecordings.com/

It’s like a fucking hundred degrees outside in early June (OK, with humidity it feels like 95) and I’d be excited for any hint of arctic weather if only to be able to get my dog properly exercised. But we’re a long way away from that, so we’re going to have to take the mental route of imagining frosty tundra and snowstorms with no relent.

Icelandic black metal force Forsmán are going to get us about as close as we need with their ripping debut record “Brenndar Rústir & Fuðrandi Fjörur” (“Burnt Ruins and Blazing Shores,” roughly translated in English). It’s frosty and violent from beginning to end, giving very few chances to take a breath, and when you can, your lungs choke with campfire smoke. The band—bassist/vocalist V., guitarist H., guitarist/vocalist O., drummer M.—spills ferocity and emotion into these seven tracks and 40 minutes of torment. It’s an album that doesn’t fear sub-zero temps but also could thrive in the opposite environment, putting you to the test. By the way, while signed to German label Vesperian, Metal Blade will distribute their record worldwide, which is big boost for this promising young band.

“Drottinn Fyrirgefur Allt” opens in feedback before its destruction mars, storming as howls crush, guitars truck, and the general vibe releases a bloody snarl. The pressure builds as the playing gets monstrous, speeding as shrieks gut, boiling out into a fury. “Svartir Svanir” gushes as the vocals batter, the playing floods, and melodic waves crash as the swarming intensifies. Colors gush as battle horns cry, and spirited group calls get your adrenaline pumping all over again. “Andvan” is blinding, raw growls gnawing at bone, grisly melodies mounting an attack as the leads zap and sprawl. Emotions run high as the power devastates, the force cascading as the bass bends around corners, guitars ringing in your ears as everything fades. “Valdníðsla” thumps and thunders, howls scarring as the pace gets tougher, ravaging group calls taking off heads. Guitars tangle as the pace hulks ferociously, the leads spindling before fading in flames.

“Kynjamyndir” attacks with rousing drums, humid guitars, and the vocals menacing, the intensity engulfing into a mammoth force. The tempo combusts as the yells reach for the stars, a passionate burst sending rock and light rocketing, wrecking before ending suddenly. “Hræ Hins Almáttuga” rumbles, the playing pulling limbs from bodies, the vocals wrenching as the leads dive into a pit of fire. Roars dust as the guitars ramp up the pace dangerously, colors wash through progressive tones, and everything rides on a storm into closer “Barmafylltar Fjöldagrafir.” Guitars drive as the vocals slash, the temperatures blazing and jolting violently. Vocals strangle as dazzling leads send electricity down your spine, fluttering and flooding as your blood races. Growls curdle as every element gets noticeably more agitated, blasting as sounds scrape, everything ending cinematically.  

“Brenndar Rústir & Fuðrandi Fjörur” is an exciting, frosty, turbulent dose of black metal from Forsmán, a record that should reach more ears with Metal Blade behind it. They’re not reinventing the wheel or anything here, nor do they need to, but their passion and heart give them an edge over a lot of other bands playing a similar style. Listening to this feels like what it might if you were to see lava burst spontaneously from the earth’s crust where you’re likely to get burnt to a crisp, but it’s pretty exciting while it’s happening.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/forsmanband

To buy the album, go here: https://linktr.ee/vesperian#549446188

For more on the label, go here: https://www.metalblade.com/

And here: https://www.vesperian.world/

Summer is supposed to be the time when major blockbuster movies choke theaters to death, and the big blood-racing adventures rake in hundreds of millions of dollars. Stormkeep and their medieval dungeon black metal likely won’t draw millions of people to their shows, but they have enough energy packed into their music to explode worlds.

Their second full-length is “The Nocturnes of Iswylm,” another spectacular, violent, ice-packed crusher that visits the adventure world they’ve conjured on these seven tracks and 45 rousing minutes. The band members—vocalist/guitarist/drummer/keyboard player Otheyn Vermithrax, guitarist Apokteino, bassist Nebula Husk, keyboard player Lord Dahthar—hail from other noteworthy forces such as Wayfarer and Blood Incantation, but this is something entirely different. This is like these four musicians transformed into different characters, drawing upon something only they can summon.

“The Taste of Immortal Blood” dawns in synth beams before the pace tears open, shrieks marring as fantastical zaps make your blood race. The chorus is melodic and rousing, ravaging with pure electricity, creaky speaking jabbing, keys dancing over the bloody ground. The leads explode as the tempo turns more violent, the final moments gushing away. “The Black Dragons of Iswylm” crushes, mangling howls driving, keys blasting as the atmosphere grows balmy. Speed explodes and rips, the howls choking, the playing dashing to a finish. “Saccharine Subjugation” is delirious, the vocals smearing as the playing punishes, a force taking hold and aggravating the weather. Screams blister as clean calls bellow, moody guitars extend their reach, and the murk darkens, coming to a cloudy end.

“Imperious Sanguine Eroticism” basks in chilling synth, clean singing sweeping through, the gothy elements swelling, scratchy vocals bruising as sounds blur. Singing bellows as organs pump, guitars flutter, and an elegance glimmers in the sky, classical acoustics taking you home. “Echoes in the Vasts of Sequestration” is clean and surging at the start, the frostiness increasing as howls crackle and guitars hit the gas pedal. The terror and savagery multiply as the speed tangles, group chants rouse, and the vocals quake before zapping out. “Carnal Tapestries of Nailtorn Flesh” is thunderous, synth scorching, guitars racing as the punishment continues. Growls punish as the playing both fires up and freezes over, a cinematic burst glows, and the keys flush before fading. Closer “Ballad of a Fallen Star” runs 9:28, entering into the fog, the guitars igniting, a melodic storm frothing and spilling over. The excitement jolts and clean singing warps, the guitars layering with warmth, a calm arriving on the back of acoustics. Power soars again as the leads go off, the singing belts and flexes, and the synth elevates the drama, your senses flood a final time.

“The Nocturnes of Iswylm” provides plenty of adventures and a total blizzard of black metal, Stormkeep totally upping the ante from their full-length debut that was a force to behold. Whether or not you’re into the happenings of their fantasy world, you can’t avoid getting swept up by their thunderous energy that easily can capture you. This is a frigid crusher at the start of the hotter months, a strange time to land but perhaps a fitting one when the need for distraction increases every day.      

For more on the band, go here: https://stormkeep-odl.bandcamp.com/music

To buy the album, go here: https://linktr.ee/vesperian#548877761

For more on the label, go here: https://www.metalblade.com/us/

And here: https://www.vesperian.world/