November 13, 2014 by Brian Krasman - 0 comments

Progressive black metal band Fen roar back with full-bodied, gripping triumph ‘Carrion Skies’

When the digital promo for “Carrion Skies,” the latest album from British progressive black metal band Fen, arrived in my inbox, I had a pretty strange reaction to it once I downloaded and absorbed it the first time. I thought the music would sound ideal traveling on Thanksgiving Day visiting family and friends.

That doesn’t sound very cult (or kvlt), but I had the same reaction to Agalloch’s “Marrow of the Spirit” a few years back, and sure enough, that was the holiday’s soundtrack. The tracks don’t sound like something that would fit behind a warm family gathering or anything, but the music feels like what I’d want to experience doing a load of driving, gazing at leafless trees, and getting beaten by the cold. Yes, Fen, a band named after a territory in England called the Fens, a relatively marshy region near where the band members grew up and took their inspiration, is going to be playing in the car that day while I try to figure out a way to battle my annoyance. The music on the band’s previous three full-lengths all feel like something borne out of nature and are ideal for enjoying during the late fall. We’ve had a lot of that music on these pages the past couple weeks. I guess we’re just getting a great deal of art that works well in the current season.

“Carrion Skies” is a natural progression for Fen from last year’s “Dustwalker.” The melodies are bigger, the black stuff is grislier and has sharper teeth, and the progressive elements are far more realized and dominant. Fen—guitarist/vocalist The Watcher, bassist/vocalist Grungyn, and drummer Derwydd—are developing much in the same way Opeth did before them, but with these guys maintaining and even sharpening their metallic edge. As for their storytelling, both musically and lyrically, the guys are branching out and unafraid to embrace myriad emotions, sounds, and shades, and that daring mission has made the band even more interesting than they already were.

“Our Name Written in Embers Pt. 1” is the opening epic on an album full of lengthy compositions, and it immediately carries you under the roaring waves, with charged-up playing that should get your adrenaline racing, harsh growls that blister the skin, and great melodies roiling with the thunder. We noted Opeth earlier, and there are times when the band feels like they’re walking the same path as those Swedish prog warriors, injecting color, mood, and texture to the piece. There are jazzier parts, where the song seems to be trickling like water, and the track finishes with an aggressive pace, growls that ignite, and a blistering final few moments that take this song into the mist. “Our Name Written in Embers Pt. 2” follows right out of the end of the first piece, with guitars bending, melodies breezing along like a draft in the woods, and things eventually breaking out into fire. The guitars chug heavily, with the vocals sounding menacing, and the end is colored with cascading playing, gorgeous compositions, and wild cries that feel animalistic. “The Dying Stars” steps out of the cold with an adventurous start that toughens up with muscular guitars. There is a woodsy feel to the carnage, and that eventually meets up with calm passages that provide a chance for a deep breath and reflection. The leads guitar work gets dark again as the track winds down, and the growls devastate everything.

“Sentinels” changes things up a bit, diving into the deeper end of the progressive pool and delving into psyche rock territory that could help you see the stars. Naturally, the song tears open, with creaky growls telling the tale, powerful melodies bursting everywhere, and some playing that reminds of Rush at their most propulsive. Some alien-like clean vocals slip in, giving the song a cosmic feel, but eventually it’s back to abject heaviness, growls that sound like they scar the throat, and wrenching passion that is undeniable. “Menhir – Supplicant” is the second-longest cut at 11:51, and it bathes in spacey ambiance while the band takes its time setting the scene. Savagery and madness arrive, with monstrous growls tangling with creative guitar playing, making the track one hell of an interesting struggle. A dialog kicks in at one point, seeming like a message being delivered by the gods, and from there the cut gets into dreamy gaze and a final assault of breath-taking tempo changes. The 12:54-long finale “Gathering the Stones” is the lengthiest song on the record, and its bones rip out of a comfortable ambiance that you know just cannot last. Emotional singing balances the monstrous growls on the song, giving it dual personalities, while psychedelic effects ensure your mind goes swimming in fog. There is a last push, as the guitars rage heavily and the vocals deliver menace along with them, but the last few minutes are bathed in calm, as the listener gets set down easily on the damp leaves after one hell of a journey.

Fen’s music just gushes with emotional and soul, and the further these guys advance in their career, the better they get as a band. “Carrion Skies” is their most ambitious, full-bodied record to date, and it’s one that reveals new sides to it each time you take a journey with the music. If you’re into bands such as Winterfylleth, Falls of Rauros, and aforementioned Agalloch and haven’t yet discovered this band, get ready to have the rest of your year fully occupied by this great new record.

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

To buy the record, go here: http://www.auralwebstore.com/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.code666.net/

November 12, 2014 by Brian Krasman - 2 Comments

Pagan black metal adventurer Askrinn makes impressive debut with wintry, icy ‘Hjørleifsljóð’

A few times a week, I get submissions from artists and bands who are wondering if we’d be interested in writing about their music. I appreciate these submissions and feel honored bands approach us with their work to see what we think. I always think it’s ridiculous people care about our opinion, even if offering said viewpoint is the whole reason this site exists in the first place.

We can’t get to everything, and really, not everything we receive fits. But now and again something will come along that totally aligns with the type of music we love and try to feature on this site. That happened recently when the band Askrinn sent us a message along with their debut offering “Hjørleifsljóð.” The message was accompanied by a brief description of the music, basically in that is in the vein of Arckanum, and that made me want to tear into the thing for two reasons. First, anything compared to Arckanum gets my ears to perk up because I love that band. Second, I wanted to see if that line of thinking applied and if it measured up to those expectations. Luckily, it did, and if anything, band mastermind Valenten may have sold his project short, because his reaches go far beyond.

The music is rooted in Pagan black metal, something in which I indulge heavily in late fall and winter months, because to me, it just works so well at that time of the year. Cold weather oppressing, red and orange skies mixing with purple as dusk nears, and my boots crunching snow, dead branches, and decaying leaves. Lyrically the record is inspired by a 13^th century Icelandic text. But beyond that Arckanum comparison, I hear so many more influences in Askrinn’s music, stretching but not limited to early Enslaved, Leviathan, Beherit, and Summoning, groups that do a great job balancing atmosphere with outright brutality. So the music that greeted me on “Hjørleifsljóð” excited me so much, I felt that not only did I want to render my opinion, but I wanted as many people as possible to check out the music and see if it doesn’t make their blood surge.

The first cut “Bjarmalandsför Hjörleifs konungs” rips open, with a wintry black metal-style guitar assault blasting fully and compelling melodies encircling and enrapturing you. The song takes some bizarre turns, leaving you unable to look back and see a clear path as to where you’ve come from, and the wrenching vocals work with the twisting and spiraling chaos to mete out devastation. Toward the end of the track, folk-inflected guitars rise up and the track bursts to its finish. “Hjörleifr mægðist við Hreiðar konung” follows, beginning with acoustic strains drizzling down and fury finally taking hold of the song. Once again, the vocals are fierce and emotional, matching the intensity of the music that just crushes in spots, and there’s a charm apparent in the lo-fi approach to the cut. It feels genuine and raw, which enhances the atmosphere. Valenten again delves into folk, letting in some color and more texture, but before it’s over, the fires blaze again, the melodies are inventive and invigorating, and the final moments feel like they emanate from a deep freeze.

“Frá spám Marmennils” has a doom-infested intro, making for some of the darkest pockets on the record, but eventually Valenten returns to churning out spacious black metal, with the leads raining down hard and delivering total darkness. There is some cool start-stop playing that makes the music feel chunky and heavy, though eventually some echoey acoustics bleed in to halt the pace. Once the storm returns, the vocals take on a creaky, terrifying tone, the leads feel like they’re racing over a bumpy road with reckless abandon, and speedy melodies and guttural growls keep punishing you to the end. “Frá konungum, Hjörleifi ok Hreiðari” has an elegant introduction, with clean playing leading the way, and more serenity that hopes to disarm you for when the power strikes. And it does, with razor-sharp, dangerous guitars, shrieks floating atop the madness, and a great tempo that gets your fists clenched. The drums are utterly assaulted, the fever builds, and the song has a great finale that should leave your lungs gasping for freezing air. Valenten ends the record with an excellent cover of Bornholm’s “Hymn to the Forgotten Pagan Gods,” his take on the Hungarian band’s song that’s a little grislier than the original. It fits really well with the four original songs, and it brings this collection to a thunderous, satisfying end.

Askrinn is a very worthy project, one that’s just in its infancy and really has a world of potential to explore. Valenten has done a great job with “Hjørleifsljóð” to keep it heavy but raw, fully realized but open to the listeners’ interpretation of the journey. I’m hoping to see Askrinn grow and develop from here, as the ideas behind the band and the fantastic music make for solid foundations. I’m thrilled Valenten chose to reach out, because this adds more vital music to my icy soundtrack over the next few months.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.askrinn.com/

To buy the album, go here: http://www.askrinn.com/preorder/

November 11, 2014 by Brian Krasman - 0 comments

Dutch death squad Thanatos return with thunderous sixth record ‘Global Purification’

Mid-November through the end of a calendar year typically is a dead zone for new music. Most of the good, vital stuff already has been released so people can buy it up for the holidays and so they can make the year-end lists. Tough for those late releases to get the respect some of them rightfully deserve.

Well, 2014 is turning into a different story. There’s a lot of good, worthy stuff still to be released, even if some of it still seems to be flying under the proverbial radar. A good example of that is “Global Purification,” the sixth release from long-running Dutch death metal band Thanatos. This band is 30 years into their run together, and while they’re only averaging a new record every five years or so, they have proved less can sometimes be more. The new one, a 10-track scorcher that runs just under 40 minutes, is devastating and passionate, something you can’t say about a good deal of the newer death bands out there, and it comes via Century Media, one of the largest metal labels in the world. It’s a digital-only release, sadly, here in the States, but that shouldn’t bug a lot of people hungry for some fire-breathing death.

Along with what these guys have done with Thanatos since 1984, its members dot other notable bands such as Hail of Bullets and Asphyx. Guitarist/vocalist Stephan Gebedi is your sole remaining original member, and he sounds as pissed off and channeled as he ever has before. He’s just blazing on this thing, especially when it comes to his furious vocals. Along with him are guitarist Paul Bayeens (himself a member since 1999), bassist Marco de Bruin, and drummer Yuri Rinkel (who did time in Mesopotamian-inspired death band Melechesh). I can’t stress enough how full of energy and chaos this record is, and it’s one you definitely should not rule out hearing before you compile your own best-of-2014 list. It’s one of the best things Century Media released this year, right behind Triptykon’s and Morbus Chron’s new opuses.

Strange industrial noises greet you at the start of the opening title cut, but that doesn’t last long as the guys bulldoze that wall and start their campaign. This is speedy death with its eyes set on engulfing everything with madness, and the gruff vocals paired with blistering drums help set the tone. “The Murder of Innocence” is built with punchy death riffs, more drums that seem hell bent on tearing down barriers, and even some spacious leads to inject atmosphere into the warzone. “Infestation of the Soul” is grimy at the start, with the vocals sounding absolutely brutal and the riffs cutting everything down. Gebedi later howls, “The terror won’t stop, the pain will never end,” as the rest of the band hits you with so much power, you can’t help but heed those words. “Queen of Gore” is a real treat and even feels a bit like early Carcass in spots. The song is outright devastating, with a sick glee coming through in the vocal delivery, and the chorus is both really catchy and wholly violent. “Nothing Left” levels you with Gebedi’s declaration, “Life as we know it is based upon lies,” while the band unleashes off-kilter playing and razor-sharp lead guitar lines.

“World Jihad” sounds like that very thing, with crazed and fast playing, angry vocals to hammer the message home, and some great dual lead lines that give the track a nice classic metal feel. “The Demonized Minority” is slow-driving and mean at first, but then it explodes with a punishing thrash attack and more tremendous soloing that, in case you haven’t been paying attention, is a recurring element on this record. “Feeding the War Machine” doesn’t need terribly close dissection lyrically to pull apart the meaning of this song, and the way the band plays, it seems like they’re fighting tooth and nail against that oppressive, blood-shedding authority. The song utterly destroys shit. “Blood Will Be Spilled” has splattering drums that pepper you with punches, though the bulk of the track is nasty and calculated as it picks its spots. Gebedi goes off, shouting the song’s title over and over while the band puts their boots to your throat. Closer “Bastion of Blasphemy” is a fitting finale, as the band takes its final shots, especially vocally as the words seem to drip with a little extra venom. The guitar work burns brightly again, driving the song to an end that’s adorned with war noises and the sounds of hell on earth.

These guys might not get the ink and attention of Arch Enemy or … gulp down bile … Butcher Babies, but they absolutely deserve that kind of exposure. Three decades haven’t slowed down Thanatos, and perhaps the time between records has worked to keep their embers blazing. Whatever it is, these guys are still killing, still taking serious shots at the forces that annoy them, and still have what it takes to leave you a heaving, bloody mess. Now pay them the proper respect by checking out “Global Purification,” one of the most genuine slabs of death Century Media released this year.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/thanatos333

To buy the album, go here: http://www.cmdistro.com/

For more on the label, go here: http://centurymedia.com/

November 7, 2014 by Brian Krasman - 0 comments

PICK OF THE WEEK: Anguish’s odd storytelling, wretched doom hit a high point with ‘Mountain’

Metal has had its share of great storytellers over the years, people who not only have created powerful music but whose lyrics and delivery have made up an important part of history. We’re talking people like King Diamond, Ronnie James Dio, and Iron Maiden’s Steve Harris, who doesn’t offer his takes vocally but has one hell of a singer to do that for him.

This is sort of becoming a lost art in modern metal, as songs take the form of rants, philosophical dissertations, social commentary, and personal blood-shedding. All of those have their place, quite obviously, but finding a band that can help you get lost inside their music and their words is something to behold. That’s a thing Swedish doom band Anguish have done for two records now, their latest being “Mountain.” Like on their awesome debut “Through the Archdemon’s Head,” you go on a journey with the band, one that can be punishing and enthralling at the same time. On “Mountain,” tales of fallen kings, murder, destruction, battles from the past, and even arch demons come into play, and the eight tracks on this record don’t give you the choice of sampling. You’re in for the entire ride, and you won’t be able to look away for a second.

Vocalist J. Dee takes front and center spot with the band, and his pained wailing and, if you’ll excuse me, anguished howls drive the drama and horror behind these songs. He’s one hell of an expressive singer, reminding a bit of Tom G. Warrior from time to time, and he’s full of charisma and evil intent. Listening to him is a morbid joy. Alongside him are guitarists/bassists David and Christoffer, as well as drummer Rasmus. On this record, the band strips things back just a bit, letting their fiery doom/death-inspired chops lead the way, and this is an album that with each subsequent listen, you find yourself sucked into their world more and more.

The simply named “Intro” is the first gush of sound, chilling and trickling, bringing you into the cold by luring you there. Then “Makarian Furnace” opens into a dark, doomy world, building in a calculating manner and letting Dee’s demonic yarn-weaver voice split into the action. He sounds sick and manic at times, almost like a villain watching his world wash away, and the rest of the band delivers, cleverly inserting a cowbell at the point when things are about to erupt again. Well put together. “Stir Up the Demon” is a furious one, with a stomping assault, tremendous leads, and Dee howling the blood-stopping admission, “I murdered him, there he lies smiling.” He spits out diatribes about false loyalty, doomed kings, and other treachery, while the band hits a deadly groove and even covers some thrashy territory. “Master of Peak’s Fall” has a watery, blurry open, with strong riffs blasting the door down and maniacal storytelling keeping you engaged. There is slow-driving misery that gives way to soaring soloing, and the end is dressed in dark organs, mournful singing, and melodies that twist and turn.

“Decomposer of Planets” has a really strange first few minutes, with Dee warbling like a crazy person and the music feeling absolutely ominous. Eventually, the song really starts to chug, the narration turns to growls, and track has a thunderous, disruptive conclusion hammered home by the declaration, “Your king is dead!” “The Woven Shield” has some slick, massive basslines that move into a heavy doom crunch and Dee shouting, “I am hunted across the lands,” meaning it as a threat and without an ounce of fear. More organs spill in, giving the song a gothic feel, and the punishment comes to an abrupt end. “Void” lurches and crawls menacingly, with smashing and mashing from the band, and the song switching back and forth from moodier parts to sections that will devastate you. It’s one of the most interesting songs on the record. Closer “Snowhammer” could not be a better curtain-dropper, starting with cold, fear-invoking passages before it punches its way out and begins its attack. Dee, in his most threatening voice, shouts, “Let them be crushed, see them be bled, let them crawl in excrement!” From there, the band lets everything burn, from savage damage being meted out, to dark keys rising again, and mystical, razor-sharp guitar work leading you to the end.

Getting lost inside Anguish’s dark, twisted fantasy world for 50 minutes is tremendous fun and should fill every desire a true metal fan has inside of them. “Mountain” is heavy, ugly, glorious, wretched, and evil, and every second of this is worth poring over. This band is developing quite the track record only two albums in, and it’ll be terribly exciting to hear what blood-splattered, doomed drama they dream up next.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Anguish/175400599142558

To buy the album, go here: http://www.darkdescentrecords.com/store

For more on the label, go here: http://www.darkdescentrecords.com/

November 6, 2014 by Brian Krasman - 0 comments

Old Man Gloom return to their tricky, crushing activities with ‘The Ape of God’ … Both of them!

It’s nice to know there are things in metal you still can rely on. While there are a handful of labels and bands I pretty much can be assured will offer up quality with each new release, knowing where I can place my trust isn’t so easy these days. Come to think of it, maybe I need better things to worry about.

Anyhow, one of those bands that always seems to do us right is Old Man Gloom, the long-running sludge/doom/noise/post-hardcore/you-name-it band comprised of some of the most respected members of metal’s underground. The band has been a major part of a lot of people’s lives and musical taste formation for the past 15 years, and when they returned in 2012 with “No” after an eight-year absence, it was hard to separate feelings from critical analysis because it was so good to have them back together. And it turns out, two years later, that album still crushes. But that was just the first step in their new journey, as they’re back with the smashing “The Ape of God,” their first for Profound Lore. Yeah, everything you like about the band is here, from the muddy devastation to the roared vocals to the brainy compositions, but they branch out their sound even more and come up with some nice surprises.

The members of OMG should be well known to most. Obviously you have Aaron Turner of ISIS (the band, not the terrorist organization, you idiots) on guitars and vocals; Nate Newton of Converge and Doomriders on guitars and vocals; Caleb Scofield of Cave In and Zozobra on bass and vocals; and Santos Montano (he plays live with Zozobra) on drums. That lineup in unquestionably great, not just based on their stellar resumes, but because of the awesome music they’ve made together over the course of six records now. The music makes “The Ape of God” an instant charmer, one that from the first ride I had with the thing, I was ready to go back and take it all in again. It’s only grown on me from here, and it’s arguably my favorite of their releases to date. Again, ask me in two years.

Oh, but hold on! Just like when OMG essentially told no one about the creation of “No” and released it basically out of the blue, “The Ape of God” is yet another trick they whipped out of their sleeves! “The Ape of God” are two completely different records with the same name and about 90 minutes worth of music. What we’re reviewing here are eight tracks, out of order, that basically make up a sampler of sorts that was given to the media as the official promo. I have yet to hear each record in their entirety, and down the line, we’ll perhaps come back and add to this piece. But what I’ve heard is a fair enough indication, I think, and a hilarious gotcha from Old Man Gloom, Profound Lore, and SIGE. You jerk bastards!

Aptly titled “Fist of Fury” is served up first, beginning with a pocket of sound that makes you think the band is heading toward ambiance, but then the noise starts to sizzle. The band steamrolls forward, with everything sounding like it’s being fried in electrics, and Turner’s easily recognizable barks bursts and pummels. Up next is “The Lash,” another track that has a misleading start, seeming to float in mid-air before a thick bassline lays down the tracks, hypnotic melodies punish and mystify, and monstrous growls emerge that are heavy enough to cave your chest. “Predators” is burly and gruff, with Turner howling, “I will live forever,” with sludgy atmospherics piling on top. The band just keeps striking, with the end of the track bathing in corrosive material and what sounds like warped angels on high layering the background in doom. That bleeds into 9:22 “Shoulder Meat,” a really interesting cut that actually sounds like ISIS in spots (especially when the icy synth lines roll in). There are equal amounts brutality and spacious wonder, with pockets of noise soaring like the wind, levels of sound being built, and the track finally relenting its grip slowly.

“Simia Dei” is driven forward by Montano’s drums, leading into a much different-sounding cut and an instrumental. Some of the sounds feel like they’re from the calmest reaches of space, and the guitar work even gets poppy in spots, sort of like a burlier Torche. “Never Enter” has static spitting sparks, the tempo speeding up, and screamier vocals from Scofield. The song is faster, punchier, and more vicious than what preceded it, which is saying something since this thing hasn’t exactly been easy listening so far. “Promise” sinks into vocal drone and lets the doom hammer drop, pounding you relentlessly and making you feel miserable along the way. Vocal duties gets traded back and forth (with Newton starting and Turner finishing), changing up the voice of the track, and the final moments spiral and finally go dark. Finally, “Aarows to Our Hearts” runs 14:10, and it’s a pretty interesting one. What sound like doom horns ring out, signaling the dark clouds overhead, and strings rise up and set an eerie tone. The guitar work enters ominously, with clean singing instead of growls, and sea-sick melodies pushing you back and forth. The bulk of the song is moody and dreary, but with a few minutes to spare, the pace begins to get nasty, jangling guitars turn muddy, and the guys starts pounding away again. Turner’s growl registers its final statements, with he and the band howling in unison, and the lurching, beastly mashing gives way to mercy, but only after you’ve been sufficiently punished. This is one hell of a song, one of the most captivating tracks in Old Man Gloom’s gloried catalog.

Devastating but intelligent, abrasive but thought-provoking, Old Man Gloom again prove you can make uncompromising, heavy music and still give people something substantive to walk away from, and not just meat-headed heaviness. “The Ape of God” may be a reference the destruction of mankind, but it sounds like another creative rebirth for this band of tested veterans. Their music already is revered for its daring history, and it can be embraced now for its volcanic present and surely earth-blazing future. If anyone can even guess as to what that future is, as OMG never will show their hand until they’re right in front of you.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Old-Man-Gloom/41173493966

To buy the albums, go here: https://www.profoundlorerecords.com/products-page/

Or here (for vinyl, coming soon): http://sigerecords.merchtable.com/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.profoundlorerecords.com/

Or here: http://sigerecords.blogspot.com/

November 5, 2014 by Brian Krasman - 0 comments

Edmonton’s Dire Omen unleash warped, infernal death metal on ‘Wresting the Revelation…’

You’re stuck underground. You’re in the bowels of a dark, damp, rotting cave with no way out, oxygen becoming scarce, and your panic level grabbing you by your guts. You can hear a sound in the distance, muffled but building, and it sounds like anything but your rescuers. No, what’s approaching you has its sights set on your blood and flesh, and what can you even do to survive?

While that might sound like an unsettling dream from which you wake up screaming and covered in sweat, or even that scene from “Fellowship of the Ring” when the orc army was about to attack in the Mines of Moria, it’s instead the vibe I get from Edmonton’s Dire Omen, a filthy, nasty death metal band that sounds as primitive and disorienting as they come. This is another strong signing for Dark Descent (who will be represented again on these pages later this week), who have given us a steady feed of the best and burliest of underground death metal bands. This one follows down the path of last year’s Paroxsihzem album, and also could serve to enlighten those whose music rotation involves heavy assaults from Mitochondrion, Portal, Antediluvian, and Incantation.

For “Wresting the Revelation of Futility” being the band’s first full-length effort, they already have a vicious grasp on what makes their band tick and stomp over the thousands of pretenders in the death metal hive. Their sound is buried and scuffed up by noise, distortion, and purposely low-grade production, and everything they do feels utterly brutal, easily making you miss just how interesting and inventive the band is as well. Guitarist/vocalist Rolando Rodas, bassist Connor Thompson, and drummer Kevin Trueblood sound like a thick shadow coming at you at your most vulnerable, looking to inflict damage over the long term and caring not for your cries. Rodas’ vocals are an equal part of the din, never dominating or even leading the proceedings and always acting as an intimidating element of the band’s sound delivering the actual threats.

“Here and Hereafter (Overture)” might sound like it’s going to ease you into the record like some fabulously unfurling introduction, but that’s not the case. The track is mucky and grimy, with the drums mauling and chants being exhausted like poison. Then it’s into “Onwards With Wounds of Disillusion” that begins with a slower but incredibly heavy pace, dizzying melodies, and the churning vocals underneath all the madness that you practically have to concentrate on solely in order to fully absorb. The band grinds away hard, with the music feeling smothering at times, and the sense of blanket-thick darkness in unavoidable. “Ossuary” begins with heavy chugging and bass work that is spastic and bouncy, which you might not expect from a band of this ilk. The riffs are strong and meaty, and the music swirls all around you like a swarm of insects. “Hemotically Possessed” is bled into, with blurry guitars leading the way, a weird pocket of playing that sounds deranged, and hellish maiming from the vocals, as Rodas lurches his way through the track. The sound pokes and prods at you, testing your anxiety, and chant-like howls and noise sprawl right into “Servus Sevorum Dei,” a smoldering track that could choke you with its smoke. The drums clobber without relent, the growls sound oppressive and buried, and the guitars twist and smear into your bloodstream.

“Foretold Untethering from Existence” is messy and horrific from the start, with the band playing heavier and faster than they have on the record to this point. They keep pushing the gas pedal, with raw fury boiling over, the music building like a terrible storm, and the drums once again destroying. “Beyond Stillness” instantly instills dread, with the band completely annihilating everything in front of them, including your senses, and the vocals sound like they’re emanating in steam form from a demon. The leads do a fine job doing massive amounts of damage, and the pace finds that extra push into speed again, leaving you in the dust. “Convulsing Before the Vacuous Altar” sounds exactly like its title. There is a strange, bone-chilling vocal recitation that starts, feeling pastoral in the darkest sense, before the song blows apart, spraying shrapnel everywhere. Along with all of the aggression come some very interesting melodies and ideas, practically standing as the world’s most violent form of prog. The leads are intelligent, the vocals gruff, and the song achieves maximum carnage. “Inversion of Samadhi” is smothering but also satisfyingly thrashy, giving you the chance to bash your bloody fists against the wall. There’s a sickening, nauseous feel to what’s going on here, making you want to dump your stomach while the band is flaying you, and the music spills itself all over the map, never letting you in on where it’s going next. Finale “Closing the Portal” also sparks thoughts of prog metal, but it lies beneath a million tons of burning earth. The track is calculating in sections, like the band is picking its spots to strike, and it’s the one song where outright brutality is not the goal. OK, the vocals still sound like they have only death in mind, but musically things soar, float, boil, and rain down, proving a breath of atmosphere in the middle of a liquid tar pit. It’s not an easy journey, and you’ll feel the toll of the adventure once the album fades.

Dire Omen are that force in the dark coming to pull you away into the unknown and, most likely, to your final resting place. I feel that with every visit with “Wresting the Revelation of Futility” and love the infernal, sooty sound this band embraces and uses as an engulfing mechanism. Nothing here is pretty and easy, and everything is full of hellacious madness designed to deface. They’re here to drag you under, never to see the sunlight again.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.darkdescentrecords.com/store/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.darkdescentrecords.com/

November 4, 2014 by Brian Krasman - 0 comments

Usnea’s doom unpleasantness served in muddy, heaping doses with ‘Random Cosmic Violence’

Terrible frustration, unending anger, things being complete bullshit seemingly all the time. Those are situations and moods we all face from time to time, and when it’s all three at once, existence seems like it’s the worst, something that’s a struggle to grasp and make even a slightest bit of sense out of.

Funeral doom is not a sub-genre that was born out of happiness, pleasantries, and comfort. It’s cold, dark, and abrasive, and sometimes it feels like a thing that’s weighing on you for a million years at a time. It’s also an excellent source of power when you’re feeling at your worst and can’t come to grips with daily frustrations, and a band such as Usnea could be just what you need when you need to spit the venom welled up inside of you. The Portland, Ore., doom band is oppressive, angry, and fierce in the best possible way, and their second release “Random Cosmic Violence” should reach way more ears via their alignment with Relapse. It’s a union that makes a lot of sense, and with the dreaded seasonal depression about to sink its teeth into many of us, this record could be the monster that helps pull us through the murk and hell.

At four tracks and just under an hour long, this dreaded document is a fiery, harsh, and unpleasant experience, which I mean in a good way. The band–guitarist/vocalist Justin Cory, bassist/vocalist Joel Banishing, guitarist Johnny Lovingood, and drummer Zeke Optimo Rogers–reveal black personalities, strange ways of expressing their darkness, and torturous practices to make their weight felt. These songs are not for the faint of heart, the easily wounded, or those who want three minutes and a cloud of dust. You must commit, feel each thorn press into your skin, and do what you must to make sense of this cauldron of madness that’s not exactly excited to make its intentions clear.

“Lying in Ruin” is the first beating up, beginning with bizarre noises and cosmic weirdness that seems to be setting itself up for a volcanic trip through space. The doom floor eventually drops, as expected, and the vocals sound crazed and anguished, like they’re going to squish your bowels until death arrives. A sweeping atmosphere arrives, and the vocals slip into a chant, making the track feel ritualistic. There is a lot of back and forth, heaviness paving the way for calm and vice versa, and the final moments have the drums driving and static eroding everything. “Healing Through Death” mauls you for 14:20, beginning right away with banshee wails that might cause you to jump. The band heads into slow-driving gore, with deranged cries and menacing hell before it changes over to clean and spacey. As is the case with most of the songs on here, the track doesn’t stay in one place for long as it shifts toward slithering death, calculating punishment, and an ending that makes sure it gets in as many vicious blows as it can before it lets you go.

The title track runs 14:44, and it opens with rustic acoustic guitars and slow, moody melodies. There is singing that again feels chant-like, almost like they are detached from this plane of existence and staring deep into unknown realms. But just when you feel like you’re locked in a trance, the song ignites and hammers the hell out of you. The vocals are monstrous and the pace is sludgy, but then the tempo pushes ahead again and gets thrashy and ugly. New riffs emerge that freshen the scene but also keep draining the blood, and melodies that seem like they’re repeating on a loop give way to the same acoustics that started the track. “Detritus” is the longest cut yet at 15:47, and it has a chilling, doom-infested opening that signals death’s arrival with the ringing of bells. The track takes its time building up storm clouds, and you just know the other shoe is going to drop. Obviously it does, with solemn, mournful playing, psychotic wails that make you think the worst is finally at hand, and damaged melodies that sound as battered as you are. The song sounds like it epitomizing the end, with gazey guitars spilling in, the pace continually churning, and the track ever so slowly fading away.

Usnea won’t provide an adrenaline rush or something to help you crush beers, but it will feel just right when you’re at your lowest point and need something that feels even miserable than you are. “Random Cosmic Violence” is a perfect debut for their new label, where they should find plenty of people who need a horrifying doom fix. These guys will disgust and destroy you, and don’t be shocked if you find you’re enjoying every minute of it, even at your personal worst.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.usneadoom.com/

To buy the album, go here: http://www.relapse.com/store.html

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

November 3, 2014 by Brian Krasman - 0 comments

Skelethal back with second EP of year, refine death machine on gory ‘Interstellar Knowledge…’

The spooky season is behind us now, what with Halloween being over, but that doesn’t mean we have to put away the skeletal scariness, the blood, and the guts. Not when we have a new mini-release from Skelethal, a French horror squad that makes death metal that’s filthy and true.

Following this year’s “Deathmanicvs Revelation,” a well-received debut EP offering on Iron Bonehead, they have roared back with their new “Interstellar Knowledge of the Purple Entity,” an effort that sounds more colorful than the music itself. That doesn’t mean it’s not interesting and satisfying, because it is. Instead, it offers drab blacks and greys, with splatters of blood red, exactly what you’d expect from a band of this ilk. The music is gruff, ugly, totally unpolished, and obviously steeped in the death metal of old, where ripped skin, crushed bones, and destruction were all that mattered. If you’ve dined too much on the polished, slick death metal of today, designed to move units and get merch into mall stores catering to teens, get ready for a sobering awakening.

The band remains an unholy union of two artists—vocalist/guitarist Gui Haunting and drummer/bassist Jon Whiplash. Both also play in thrash metal band Infinite Translation, though here they get to show their burlier, more aggressive side. If you were along for the “Deathmanicvs” offering, you’ll be right at home, as the band piles more bodies into the machine and prepares to bury them alive against their will. Their songs have catchy elements that go along with the horror, and you even can hear some of the thrashiness of their other band coming out from time to time. They have a damn good thing going here, and it’ll be cool to hear what they can do with a full-length.

The five-track album gets off to a strange start with eerie instrumental “Subterranean High,” an introductory piece built with weird noises, piano notes dropping, and what sound like submarine signals, making you feel like you’re starting off buried beneath the ocean. The title cut then tears in and turns everything doomy and miserable right away, with raw death transmissions, really strong riffs, and infernal growls that send a chill down your spine. Eventually the band speeds it up, turning vicious and fiery, and the track ends with the stench of vintage fury. “Sabbatical Demonic Invocation” is dark and a little muddier, with some of their thrash tendencies coming out. The song progresses and rots like a plague, at times hitting the gas pedal and steamrolling, at others feeling satisfied with drubbing you senseless. “Slaughtered From Beyond” is mean and chugs hard, with crunchy, spidery guitar leads, even grislier vocals, and nasty playing, pushing their ferocity into newfound intensity levels. Closer “Torn Apart” is aptly titled, with murderous guitar work setting the pace, the vocals sounding like they’re shedding blood, and more doom terror rising up and caking everything in soot. Speed erupts, as these guys make it a point to end the release on the most destructive note possible, sending up their most violent, punishing work in the record’s final seconds. Prepare to be drained when this is finished.

Skelethal have given us old-school death metal fans a lot to enjoy this year with both EP releases, and “Interstellar Knowledge of the Purple Entity” sounds like a band sure of its mission and unafraid to grind people’s face into the muck. This is more crushing chaos from a band that is determined to bring death back to its gory roots, and we all need more of that to keep this genre as disgusting and nasty as possible.

For more on the band, go here: http://skelethal.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: http://ironbonehead.de/shop/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.ironbonehead.de/