As awful as the reality is that makes this so, getting to talk about the late, great Tomas “Tompa” Lindberg one more time in long form is a something I relish. Getting to write about At the Gates AT ALL is a privilege, and now that his final work with D-beat crossover beasts Disfear landed, I’m psyched to get to talk about this monster.

“The Last Nail” is a fitting title for this record, their seventh, and it trucks like a bastard from the beginning to the end, with barely any room to breathe. Lindberg, joined by guitarists Björn Peterson and Uffe Cederlund, bassist Henke Frykman, and drummer Marcus Andersson (who also passed away and whose intensity should be bottled), blaze through eight tracks and 35 minutes, leaving you beaten and bruised but also exhilarated from the experience. As with the last ATG record, Lindberg still breathes fire, the band backing him with raucous punishment that leaves you in the dust.

“A Circle of Disease” opens with guitars sliding in grease, a rock feel hitting initially before the band just fucking gets at it, landing blows hard and fast. Lindberg’s voice attacks, the pace storming hard, the bass driving, and a smoking assault choking you out. “Early Graves” churns, barks strike, and the chorus smashes faces, the playing coming rapidly and fluidly. The band delivers a Motorhead feel, firing up and torching, delirious catchiness making your adrenaline surge. “Open to the Night Within” brings snaking leads, howls crashing, and a great chorus acting as a battering ram. Throaty wails bruise, the solo erupts, and the tempo barrels downhill, blood rushing dangerously to your brain. “Oblivion Bound” sweeps, racing toward you, Lindberg’s raspy shouts menacing, the guitars grilling as the tempo mangles. Leads jolt as chaos erupts, a blistering force bubbling flesh, mashing to the end.

“The Revenant” is steamy and brutal, shrieks hammering as the wail of, “You cannot chase what you cannot see,” lashes hides. A wah-infused solo echoes as raucous speed loosens teeth, the final moments burning away. “Shackled to Our Vice” churns, going back to more of a rock vibe, howls peeling as the humidity thrashes, bringing infection flames. The band trudges as steamrolling energy presses and bursts, howls of the title ricocheting. “Cyanide” brings burning guitars, bluesy sheen, and raw howls that evolve into group shouts that sound threatening. The vocals spit nails as the leads tighten their grip, stomping relentlessly, battering and squeezing, coming to a molten end. “The Last Nail in the Last Coffin on Earth” closes, the drums powering out of the gates, wails slashing, and a muscular chorus carrying the momentum. Drums encircle before a hellacious solo melts through rock, great fury ignites, and everything melts into your brain.

If this is Disfear’s final stand, “The Last Nail” would be a mighty swansong, another last blast from Lindberg, and a beast of a record that will knock your teeth out. The album is a perfect antidote, or at least a relief measure, for these times as the eight beasts can help exorcise your own pain. Hopefully we hear from this band again, admittedly with a different voice, but if this is it, this one a motherfucking earthquake of a sendoff. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.relapse.com/collections/disfear-the-last-nail

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

Metal has become a fertile place for experimentation and seeing what else is possible with heavy sounds. There always will be those who stamp their feet over progression and only want blood and guts, and they’re entitled to that opinion. I have found a lot of the bands that have staying power with me and excite me are the ones who push boundaries.

Colorado’s Wayfarer have spent their run creating black metal informed by the Old West, making pathways for cowboys and cattle and blood. Their new record “Riders of the Setting Sun” barely resembles a metal record other than the riffs and some harsher vocals here and there. The rest is sunburnt, morbid rock, somewhere near Murder By Death, Nick Cave, 16 Horsepower, and labelmates Dry Wedding. This should not really be a surprise. We’ve been hearing more of this incorporated on their last few records, and now the band—vocalist/guitarist Shane McCarthy, guitarist Joe Strong-Truscelli, bassist James Hansen, drummer Isaac Faulk—goes full bore into this new terrain. And it’s goddamn riveting.

“The Dusklands” starts with horses crying and dark clouds collecting overhead, McCarthy’s ominous singing paying off the mood. The tempo heats up as the horsemen ride, Western-style melodies kick up dust, and sullen singing increases the shadows, firing up and storming away. “Perdition’s Crossing” features guest vocals from David Eugene Edwards (16 Horsepower, Wovenhand), and it flutters through gothy terrain, quivering as the heat dries, and the chorus pushes into smokier territory. Guitars drive and moan as the sun beats down on your neck, notes bending into oblivion. “Black Roses & Early Graves” shimmers and flows with a calculated tempo, strings jolt, and McCarthy calls, “If I were to ride on through the crossroads of your soul, what would I have known?” Lonely harmonica blows over prairies, and sorrowful melodies grip, the guitars crawling on hot ground. “Casey’s Last Ride” dawns with echoes singing, psychedelics haunting, and guest vocals from Kelly Schilling (Dreadnought) who adds a smoky charisma. Acoustics brush as drums echo, Schilling pulls a drape over the night sky, and guitars melt.

“Fell Spur” opens with guitars rousing, slide playing icing brains, the singing compelling as sounds pile on top of one another. The energy jangles as acoustic guitars add a rustic finish, the playing bowing down to the night. “Grey Country” features Munly J Munly (renowned for his solo work but also for playing with Slim Cessna’s Auto Club), and the track opens with bass taking the first steps, guitars trickling, and the singing luring. The atmosphere is dry and cold, but before long the temps rise, Munly’s deep singing feeling morose. He also duels vocally with McCarthy, the playing swirls, churning and blazing before fading. “Hollow Hearts on the Trail to Eden” is fluid and melodic, the singing floating as the keys encircle, emotion building as speaking echoes. Everything sweeps into a full-bodied display, guitars explode and the soloing layers, everything sparking a final time before fading. “Prairies of Babylon” has Midwife’s Madeline Johnson and her ghostly voice that murmurs over organs and trippy bubbling, the ice eventually breaking as guitars sting for a psychedelic effect. McCarthy’s singing thickens and Johnson joins him, a dreamy haze hangs in the sky, and the guitars glisten for a cooling finish.

“Riders of the Setting Sun” would be a daring experiment for just about any band but Wayfarer, who sound right at home here on the outskirts of metal, deep into the dusty West. The record might take a little adjustment even for long-time fans, but it’s a natural evolution where a step back toward heaviness in the future would not sound like a retreat. This is an adventurous album that turns infectious in a hurry and takes you on a trip that’ll leave you parched but ultimately invigorated.

For more on the band, go here: https://ampwall.com/a/wayfarer

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://vesperian.bandcamp.com/

Or here (Europe): https://swampmerch.eu/collections/vesperian

For more on the label, go here: https://www.vesperian.world/

You would expect a record called “Vehemence” to be an emotional powerhouse that pushes you physically and mentally to your limit, spilling every bit of the harnessed energy into your already overflowing senses. When that comes as part of a thunderous black metal record that presses on your nerve endings, the effect is that much more powerful.

Mostly Swedish entity Det Eviga Leendet is responsible for this album, and it is a barnstormer from the start, spilling ferocity, colorful devastation, and thick shadows. The band—vocalist Jacob Buczarski, the non-Swede, and M, J, S, M, E, who round out the cacophony—explodes over this collection, their third overall and one that puts you through the emotional ringer. Over six immersive, devastating tracks, you experience a tidal wave of tumult that feels like it’s cutting through you to identify what is happening to us and other humans and how to channel that into something that helps us survive.

“Green” enters amid a synth cloud and ignites, shrieks belting their way through dramatic black metal storming, thunderous guitars cascading to the earth. The playing blows past the stars, spacious sections swallowing their energy, the playing stabbing viciously, eventually melting into the void. “Stray” brings melodic riffs as shrieks scrape, the guitars swinging wildly, powering everything before smothering. A new charge ravages as screams smear, and devastation explodes, sending shrapnel flying, the mood darkening, and strangeness digesting bodies. “Deliverance” gushes as the howls spark, anguished melodies twisting muscle, a driving force opening elegant darkness. The playing finds a new level of intensity, clean calls bellow, and a vicious surge opens more bellies. Guitars flood, the tempo is relentless, and steam rises.

“Avail” stirs as ominous shapes form, savagery tearing around corners, howls opening wounds and pouring salt inside. Black metal destruction takes a vicious new form, the shrieks jolt, and terrifying blasts spill into a host of strange colors, vile howls carving pathways through psyches. “Relent” throws fists, the screams fire, and the playing bludgeons, guitars washing over bloody terrain. The fiery pace slashes, ferocity barreling over a quick pocket of calm, leads flooding the senses, the back end bleeding out. Closer “Virtue” runs 9:32 and throws you headlong into a cyclone, and the howls punish as ravaging tempo shakes the ground. Leads cloud before the playing gains speed, an electric sheen hovering overhead, strings layering and flooding. Screams hammer as everything crashes under rubble, melodies flood, and strings carry into space.

“Vehemence” is a cataclysmic record, one that finds Det Eviga Leendet acknowledging the utter madness in front of us and trying to figure out how to filter what we experience. The music here equals the chaos, and the monstrous shrieks aren’t designed to turn stomachs but shake psyches back into awareness. It’s a firebreather of an album, one that is impossible to experience and come out unphased.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://debemurmorti.indiemerch.com/

Or here (Europe): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/24-pre-orders

For more on the label, go here: debemur-morti.com

It’s been decades since the era of “Heavy Metal Parking Lot” and the heyday of classic heavy metal, yet there are bands both new and old trying to keep the flames alive and doing a pretty good job achieving the proper aesthetic. It’s not easy, apparently, because for every good band doing this there are 10 that fall short, eventually falling by the wayside.

Houston-based traditional metal band Night Cobra pretty much nail everything on their second record “Beware the Dark Future,” a 40-minute bruiser packed with classic sounds, sweat, and blood. The band also has been holding down the roots of this genre even beyond the band. Vocalist/synth player Christian Bakka plays in black metal force Necrofier and is also creator and producer of the annual Hell’s Heroes fest that has become a huge destination event. Joining him here are guitarists Brandon Barger and Bill Fool, bassist Trevi Biles, and drummer Dobber Beverly of Necrofier and Oceans of Slumber (Anthony Vallejo plays live), and they unleash an electrifying set there that defies the ages and burns hearts.

“Keepers of the Cult” opens sounding like late ’70s Priest with great energy surging, the guitars flexing muscles. The leads rush as the chorus sweeps, twin guitars glisten, and the last bolts jar you. “Cut By the Knife” punches its way in as the guitars scorch, and the band achieves a vintage metal feel that makes blood rush. “They live, we all die, don’t believe what you see,” Bakka wails, the tempo driving as the song comes to a fiery end. “Cry for Blood” has a clean start, flowing calmer before ripping its way open, stampeding as the power surges. The singing takes on a rougher tone as the soloing melts faces, the chorus smokes, and more punches connect before burning out. “Beware the Dark Future” brings snarling guitars, villainous cackles, and a ravaging pace, feeling like a Maiden gallop. Soloing fires as the singing stretches, the pace rages, and a final burst surges adrenaline.

“Demons of Fire” blazes, the band howling, “Serpents of fire!” as the chorus blisters, Bakka’s singing sounding like King Diamon’s lower register. The soloing rips as more gang shouts pummel, ravaging fury taking the lead, everything ending in a colorful haze. “On The Edge” has keys fluttering, the playing pumping and chugging, the singing taking you on a molten adventure. Soloing rips as the chorus ravages, gang shouts of, “Die! Die! Time to die!” riveting with electricity. “Cheating Death” is speedy and punchy, the singing scarring as fast-paced devastation mixes with shadows. Guitars attack as the soloing stings, the temperatures spiking while bringing ominous tones, Bakka warning, “No one gets out alive.”  Closer “Starlight” runs 8:21 and burns into existence, the band throwing haymakers, the singing lashing as Bakka vows, “Say the words, I will return.” The song enters a mystical awareness before the power shifts and the band hits harder. Spirited “oh-oh” calls jolt and guitars savage, shrieks raining down, fires battering and a final declaration of, “It is forever!” booming through your brain for life.

Night Cobra bring a tried-and-true ’80s-style metal attack on “Beware the Dark Future,” one fuck of a fun record. This is vintage metal that is understood by its creators and delivered with heart and glory, giving you a diversion from the things that ail your mind. This is a massive display from a band that is reviving classic metal and making it breathe fire.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://namelessgraverecords.com/collections/nameless-grave-records-releases

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

When a band’s brutality expands, be it philosophically or compositionally, it can be a risk. Iron Maiden, for example, have spent the past couple decades dealing records packed with epic tracks, few of which manage to stick in the brain after hearing them. One could argue as a band, they were better served with some editing.

Danish death/doom power Konvent land with third record “Firesky” expanding their sound into deadlier terrain and pushing the run time of their songs. In this case, the band—vocalist Rikke Emilie List, guitarist/vocalist Amira Liv Hernan, bassist Heidi Withington Brink, drummer Julie Simonsen—makes the most of these longer songs, letting their fury breathe and stretching their disgust into bruising storms that refused to relent. Lyrically, the band tackles the unfathomable struggle women and LGBTQIA+ people face in a society increasingly more hostile toward them, something put on them by cowardly politicians and their mindless minions who don’t know they’re being fucked over as well. It’s infuriating these issues remain, and Konvent sound more than happy to torch them for good.

“Exorcise” is the nine-minute opener, a sign for what’s ahead as the band leads into churning passages, the growls bruising (List’s vocals always have sounded lurching and gravelly) as the slow-driving pace flattens bodies. Screams belt before calm arrives, fluid guitars forming a black stream, flowing before the pace erupts again, thrashing and strangling. Guitars blaze as the melody spills, the driving attack warping into oblivion. “Scorning” is calculated and muscular, flowing into the shadows, growls bubbling as the tempo spews oil. The doom waters thicken as jagged leads poke prone flesh, the bassline flexing and bending. The playing gets more spirited, the howls gut, and the leads lather, a heartfelt explosion of punishment burning into ashes.

“In the Unknown” runs almost 12 minutes, and each one batters you, punches striking your midsection, the tempo feeling punchy, howls bruising as the heat spikes and pulls back. Cold waters arrive, chilling you to the bone, as the playing flows slowly before tearing open again, the growls snarling and menacing. The leads show muscle as the band stomps, growls level buildings, and everything darkens, driving into oblivion. The title track features Mai Soon Young Øvlisen (Meejah) adding vocals, the opening turning burly, growls charring as black metal-style guitars bask in hell, going into chillier terrain and blackening edges. “Took what is not yours and now that we have called down the sun, let us see what it can do, we will smile as it burns,” Øvlisen calls, shrieks rattling bones, the leads blazing, blood surging emotion and choking with smoke. Closer “Postludium” is an instrumental piece, clean guitars bringing dour warnings, sullen fires crackling as strings glaze, and everything gently fades into the glowing embers.

Konvent’s conversion into longer-form songs is a thunderous one on “Firesky,” their most ambitious record and one that’s a firebreather spitting nails at fascism. Each of these songs scorches body and mind, leaving you arrested by their power and bathing in their fiery glow. This is a triumph of an album that pays off in heaviness, creativity, and anger, proving their powers were even greater than we had anticipated.

For more on the band, go here: https://konvent666.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://label.napalmrecords.com/

For more on the label, go here: https://label.napalmrecords.com/konvent#shop

The new Assumption record is called “Paradox of the Arrow,” a philosophy I’ve always found a little strange and overexplanatory. I’m glad I got that off my chest because it bothers me, and it’s why I didn’t get as much out of my philosophy classes, and yes, I am the problem here and not the band or anyone else. My brain makes no sense either.

That said, like most Assumption records, this thing immediately captures the imagination, and yes, I see how the concept works with their music as they can trick your mind into how they got from point A to B, and your terrain after can seem different than initially perceived. It’s a reason I’ve followed their music as the band—vocalist/guitarist/synth player Giorgio Trombino, guitarist Matija Dolinar, bassist Claudio Troise, drummer David Lucido—pours their darkness and emotion over six tracks and 41 minutes on their luring third record. They seem heavy and hulking but weightless and locked into a strange dreamscape that you’re surprised to find has enveloped from moment one.

The title track opens, dripping through the fog, blistering as the growls bury, guitars lighting the way, ensnaring with misery, detached calls chilling before beastly tendencies sprawl. Guitars boil as dizzying playing makes the room spin, trudging and slowly slithering to a cold ending. “A Labyrinth in Ruin” has guitars scuffing and charring, growls hulking, heavy snarling working down your spine. Growls gurgle as the mists intensify, the guitars release exhaust, and a hypnotic gush fills your senses. Leads ignite as the playing bruises, atmospheric melodies flood, and the last shots ricochet. “Tombs Upon the Sun” crawls through a heavy murk, guitars chug and hammer, and the growls bury, stinging with thrashiness. Guitars bubble as the storm gains steam, Trombino repeats the title, and ashen chaos erupts, rubbery leads bending corners, the bass chugging and mauling.

“Southwards Our Spirits Shall Forever Drift” is clean and eerie when it enters, the moodiness spreading as the pace drubs, growls retching as the playing warps. The playing slithers and pounds as the leads go off, finger tapped guitar work bristling, strange speaking chilling as the playing ravages. “Selenite” starts with guitars lighting wicks, smoking as the pace twists brains, the smoke spreading as things take on a mystical feel. Leads slink as wordless calls chill, a sullen sky darkening as the growls choke. The playing unloads as the growls thicken and smear, and the final moments burn away. Closer “Vrykolakes” melts with trickling guitars, a chugging pace, and cold, frosty melodies icing muscles. The growls explode as the playing combusts, spewing smoke and agony, the guitars cascading and tingling. The pace storms harder as the leads rush, everything disappearing into a cosmic glaze.

Assumption’s thick, bruising doom captivates and flattens on “Paradox of the Arrow,” a weighty creation that blackens hearts. Power that might seem motionless actually does ample damage to your psyche and body, putting you through the ringer but also amplifying your emotions. This is dark and foreboding but also weirdly spacious, an album that sticks with you long after the music stops.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.20buckspin.com/assumption

For more on the label, go here: https://www.20buckspin.com/

Humanity mostly is a blight on this planet. One day, when we’re done killing ourselves and this sphere, we will erase ourselves, and one day nature will take its hold again. But what if we (well, probably not we) could take care of that problem retroactively, saving Earth a fuck load of torture and decay?

“Answered Prayers” illuminates that idea, and as this latest The Mosaic Window record plays out, we slowly fade into the background like we were never here. Band creator Andrew Steven “Skeletonhammer” Brown (he handles all instruments and vocals, while Dmitry Kim provides session drums) imagines a way in which humans could vanish from the earth before the Industrial Revolution ever took place. Using primal and furious black metal as his torch, Skeletonhammer tears humanity from existence, preventing a thriving Earth from feeling our poison touch. The anger is palpable and understandable.

“Premonition of the Prophecy” in an intro cut that’s a jarring wakeup, the playing gallop as melodies gather, heading into “The Fog Carries Plague” that’s a black metal rush from the start. The playing storms with a fury, the vocals scraping, the leads flush with energy, a hammering force weighing down on you, speed and spaciousness creating an interesting picture as the drumming mauls you to the ground. “Serpentine” engulfs as the guitars bend, the playing igniting and creating volatile excitement. Guitars slash and thrash, ravaging as the energy bubbles, bleeding to a colorful end. “Lightning Be Thy Guide” gushes, the howls echo, and the leads tangle, everything feeling airy and spontaneous, shrieks ripping flesh from bone. Leads lather as the emotion kicks into higher gear, the melodies rise fast like a tidal wave, and an infectious finish keeps smothering with fury. “What Sage Could Not Cleanse” has leads spilling over the edge, a punchier pace, and the vocals echoing, igniting as your insides catch fire. A storming fury hits the ground as Maiden-like guitars take the lead, the last moments submitting to elegant devastation.

“Blood and Chains” feels ominous before it consumes everything whole, vocals echoing as the playing splatters, slowing into black metal heat and a stinging retribution. The center rips open and torches, screams smash your senses, a sense of regality spreads, and the power stretches, pulling you to your limit. “Unsheathing the Fall of Man” tangles as the madness add interesting colors, the intensity mashes your spine, and the screams echo maddeningly. Screams smash and tornadic guitars shake the brain in your skull, flooding you with chaos before an abrupt end. “Crusader” hammers and immerses you in danger, the drums powering everything, your mind pounding over the thrashing you’re taking. The pace torpedoes, and the drums wreck buildings, flooding as the melodies savage. “Echoes of Answered Prayers” dawns with strong riffs, anguished wails, and leads swimming in battery acid, cavernous punishment wooshing recklessly. The vocals retch as the guitars search and speed combusts, sludging into cosmic rays that burn. Closer “Devotion to My Burning Desire” explodes with a channeled attack, throaty howls buzzing, the playing igniting and dicing organs. The pace hulks as the leads erupt, charging and spewing spatter, coming to a ferocious end.

“Answered Prayers” is a vile, destructive piece of black metal, but it also is reflective and sobering, creating a vision where humanity didn’t have a chance to wreck the world with its technology. The Mosaic Window’s force hits you right in the chest, leaving ribs stretched and you gasping to get oxygen. This is a punishing piece, one dripping in blackness and misfortune, forcing you to face a future where humanity already succumbed to hubris.

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

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

For more on the label, go here: https://www.vesperian.world/

Can’t believe we’re doing the fascism thing again. OK, look, I do realize there has been at least low levels of fascism in the U.S. pretty much forever. But I’m talking the armband-wearing, Roman saluting kind because apparently a duo of world wars taught us fuck all. We have so many lessons already absorbed, yet here we are, fucking up again.

Wraith vocalist/guitarist Matt Sokol is a history teacher in his other life, and he knows all too intimately the road we’ve been down and can’t fathom why we—as humans, not just Americans—keep sliding into our worst tendencies despite us knowing how this all will end. It’s a major focal point for the band’s thunderous new record “Descent Into Darkness,” their fifth overall and second for Prosthetic. Sokol and the band—guitarist/vocalist Jason Schultz, bassist/vocalist Chris Petkus, drummer/vocalist Mike Szymendera—ravage with blackened thrash, feeling like a more acidic Motorhead in spots, bruising with grim fury in every spot. The rage and disgust watching the human race fall on its face matches the pace of the music, which easily can leave you bruised.

The title track trickles in before the power ramps up, charging as the howls crush, and speed becomes a greater factor. The soloing unloads, the tempo stampeding with a purpose, the chorus hammering once more before everything fades. “Final Warning” wrecks and chugs, a viciousness sinking into the center, the playing feeling driving and thrashing, leaving bruising. Guitars reset and then the force multiplies, Sokol howling, “Planet in mourning freed from life,” as the final sparks fly. “Atomic Queen” starts with a siren before the bass begins chewing muscle, and the attack mashes, a strong, catchy chorus spiking adrenaline. Dual guitars unite as the leads glisten, burning off energy, the solo ripping before a final chorus explodes. “Terminal Embrace” has guitars jolting and the playing dusting, ferocity storming overhead, the howls scarring as your will gets tested. Guitars melt as raspy calls punish, continually pushing and slamming the door in your face.  “Over the Top” heats up as the bass trudges, charring and tangling as the heat gets oppressive. Throaty howls punish as thrashiness and filth unite, the playing boils more aggressively, and the band hits a thrashy groove that loosens bones.

“Misery and Malice” has guitars mangling and the vocals smothering, beastly weight bearing down, the leads carving bloody paths. The wails flex as the speed explodes with chaos, everything left in the dust as you gasp for air. “Lord of Wolves” enters amid guitars smoking, the band brawls you to the ground, and a sweeping chorus makes its presence felt. The tempo bashes as the weaponry becomes more volatile, doing damage to your psyche. “Chainscraper” grounds and pounds, the drums pace with force, and melodic leads get inside your veins and race toward your heart. The band turns down a beaten path, feeling catchy and fiery, the guitars glisten, and the elements battle even harder, ripping before churning out. “No Man’s Land” starts clean and fluid before the hammer swings, a calculated pace and raspy wails teaming to do ample damage. The leads ignite as the pace jolts, the vocals eat away at you, and a clean outro flows before being scuffed a touch by distortion. Closer “Back in the Trenches” has a power metal feel as it unloads, trucking and blistering, leaving you hacking in its dust. The leads turn molten and charge, gang shouts devastate, and melodic gusts bend your psyche, fading after one last glorious attack.

Wraith’s death-dusted thrash sounds mighty as ever on “Descent Into Darkness,” a record that’s a massive warning shot to a society solely crumbling into madness. We have plenty of history to lean on as things get more volatile, but as our alleged leaders do their worst to warp history, we might not even have a chance to prove we’ve learned any lessons. It doesn’t take much to spark violence, and Wraith are doing their part to try to ensure more people wake up so we can avoid a turbulent fate.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.prostheticrecords.com/

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

Dealing with an illness, whether yours or someone else’s, is an incredibly draining experience, one that takes a long time to conquer both physically and mentally. It stretches you beyond your abilities to cope sometimes, and if you survive, you also live with the fear that it could come back to claim you.

“Atropa,” the stunning new record from E-L-R, doesn’t dig into gruesome details about ailing, but they do deliver an ethereal, thunderous number on your psyche. The band—comprised of duo S.M. (guitar, vocals) and I.R. (bass, vocals), with D.B. and M.K. providing drums—digs into the aftermath of sickness but also tackles emotional upheavals of other types. The six tracks and almost 45 minutes of power whip you through blackness but also into mesmerizing visions, their simmering doom and cloudy passages forming a strange mystical territory worth exploring deeply.

“Oaken Reaper” opens and drives into your heart, the singing hitting ethereal highs, the heaviness raining down and hitting a trancey pace. Sounds spiral as the vocals layer, and a mesmerizing, numbing tone washes over, dissolving into time. “Archeress” (I assume the cover art is based on this) is dark and buzzing, flowing actively, hushed vocals soothing before the playing erupts. The push clouds the senses, gushing generously, the melodies coming down in sheets, the murk overwhelming as the vocals soar, the playing hitting even harder before returning to dust. “Cobalt Wound” basks in echoing drums as the vocals swim, shadowy presences revealing themselves as the band takes a more direct approach. Guitars heat as the power connects, drumming as the steam thickens, the playing temporarily pulls back before throbbing, howls belting open wounds as leads churn.

“Solace Tracery” heats and gusts, unloading and working into a haze, guitars flowing before a gust bloodies noses. The singing stings before the pace pulls back, piano drips as D.B. sings, a sweltering darkness hangs overhead, and screams stab through the chaos. The playing combusts as the singing coats and stretches, sounds cresting and receding. “Saltwinds” has swirling vocals and a pace that jostles, the bass thickening as the storming arrives, and electricity snakes. The playing twists muscles as the emotion stirs, a rigid bassline punching to the end. Closer “Echo Space” runs 10:45, the longest song here, and it shimmers in the shadows, moodiness growing colder, the singing soothing and feeling somber. Dreaminess increases as melodies trickle into noise, spurting lava as a blistering attack devastates, the guitars striking back. Playing pelts as the singing floods, murk wafts, and everything settles into the ripe ground.

“Atropa” digs even deeper into E-L-R’s psyche, and the pain and upheaval that led to this record’s creation bleeds through these six songs. The heaviness and delicacy create a sense of healing and perseverance, moving you through the waves and making sure you feel some of that impact. This is both a brutal and beautiful record, one that should make for a mental trial by fire as we head into the colder, isolated months.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://spkr.store/collections/e-l-r

For more on the label, go here: https://prophecy-de.bandcamp.com/

How can your brain not constantly be on fire these days with everything going on and the world melting into the fucking ground? I talk about it a lot, but fuck, how does anyone get through this and not need prescription-level analgesics? How do people have stomach lining left? Everyone’s bodies should be corroding in acid.

“Inferno Descends” is the new record from Ohio-based death metal manglers Invultation, and it sounds like what your psyche is doing to your brain after experiencing waking hours just once. This is a piledriver of a record from sole creator Andrew Lampe, and the vitriol and insanity pouring off this thing is unwieldly. But in an incredible way. This melts down in ways you can’t imagine until you experience these 11 songs and 41 minutes as Lowe lashes you with fire and ferocity, matching the horrors that go on every goddamn second.

“Inferno Descends” is a quick instrumental intro where guitars moan, the momentum gears up, and it twists into soot, headed toward “Molten Aggression” that is aptly named. It combusts, hellish growls twisting, the playing warping as the leads spit fire. The pace blasts harder, hellish ferocity explodes, and the last notes burn off. “Red Vortex” charges with a spastic chaos, destroying as beastly vocals and gargantuan playing leave heavy bruising. The track is an assault on the senses, pulverizing everything on its way, leaving a trail of ash behind. “Frenzied Catechesis” is relentless, deep growls clutch throats, and the tempo rattles bones, the leads going off to maim. The atmosphere turns mystical before going gruesome, the leads hypnotize, and everything is submits to total violence as it winds to an end. “Sacrificial Incineration” guts as the growls engorge, slowly punishing as eeriness rises, and the chugging push punishes. The playing wreaks havoc as fast, gutting power escalates, zany leads explode, and the pummeling leaves bodies pressed to the ground. “Third Degree Warfare” crushes, the drums pasting, the pace storming as growls leave open wounds on your face. Blasts incinerate as deep growls gurgle, rattling brains in skulls, sending a power surge to an abrupt end.

“Razed by Flames” delivers storming fury, riding a hellish pace as the growls hammer mercilessly. Delirious guitars barnstorm as the tempo detonates, drubbing to the very end. “Withered Exiguity” is delirious, fully engulfing as the playing overwhelms, the trucking power chewing your flesh before grinding to a slower tempo. The insanity goes off, thrashing wildly and bloodying noses, driving with a reckless menace that issues physical threats. “Desecration Ethos” is slow driving and punishing, speed and fire uniting, growls smashing barriers and bleeding into other regions. Growls blacken the sun as a feral attack goes for your throat, opening veins and boiling their contents in hell. “Solar Occlusion” is punchy and hulking, deliberate power weighing down on you, growls bubbling as the drums explode. The leads take off as your blood pressure spikes, warping the senses and burning to the end. Closer “Atrocity Vehemence” has an evil feel, the playing going off, infernal energy exploding through your veins. An insane pace consumes minds, the growls breath fire, and the furnace consumes, fading into the underworld.

“Inferno Descends” is a ridiculous record in the best possible way, unleashing death metal that seems hellbent on frying your nervous system. Invultation keep their boot on your neck during the entire runtime, wrecking and blazing, torching everything to the ground. This is a record designed to beat you into submission, and it does that ridiculously well.

For more on the band, go here: invultation.bandcamp.com

To buy the album, go here: https://sentientruin.com/releases/invultation-inferno-descends

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