Metal and heavy rock can come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and sounds. It would be dull if it all followed the exact same path, and this world would be nearly as exciting as it is if everyone constantly went for the jugular, with no attention paid to variety. Part of what makes metal and extreme music so rewarding is because it is so expansive.

That’s why the presence of a band such as Pyramids is so interesting to dissect. Not exactly metal, not really rock, this band has made some of the most imaginative, complex sounds of the past few years. They’re not a slave to any sound, and they likely could find favor among those who like black metal and doom, as well as folks who are just as inclined to pay homage to the Cure, Radiohead, and My Bloody Valentine. You can’t pinpoint their sound or trap it in a corner, because it will grow, climb up the walls, morph into an entirely new creature, and come back at you completely transformed. Now, seven long years since their last and self-titled full-length record enveloped the world, they return with their gushing, sky-borne, spacey new album “A Northern Meadow” that’s long overdue and very much welcome. As expected, it pushed matters even further than ever before and can totally infect you just minutes into its run time. It’s not a platter of bloody brutality by any means, but it’s dark, morose in corners, sometimes threatening and chilling, and always arresting. It’s a fantastic piece of work.

Pyramids’ shadowy lineup is comprised of R. Loren, M. Dean, M. Craig, and D. Willaim, and on this record, they are joined by notable guests such as Vindsval of Blut Aus Nord; Colin Marston of Krallice, Gorguts, Dysrhythmia, and more; and musician/composer William Fowler Collins, who has released music on labels including SIGE, Utech, Handmade Birds, and plenty of others. It may have been a long time since we got that last record, but it’s been worth the wait. And they haven’t been totally absent or anything, as they released a remix album, as well as a collaborative music with Nadja and split efforts with Mamiffer and Horseback. But “A Northern Meadow” takes things ever further. It’s a daydreamy, otherworldly album that gets more and more involved with each listen, and I’ve more than once let my promo version of the album restart over and over again, with me totally losing track of where I am.

“In Perfect Stillness, I’ve Only Found Sorrow” gives you a deep drink of reality right from the start, as guitars sweep in, the falsetto-rich vocals grab onto you and hold on tightly, with the entire thing having a foggy dream effect that could leave you feeling intoxicated. There are weird electronic smears on the back end, and a mesmerizing fog that leads you out and toward “The Earth Melts Into Red Gashes Like the Mouth of Whales” that has bent, slurry melodies and dark riffs that emerge from the corners. A noise sheen washes over everything, with various sounds merging, creating their own unique color combinations, and splitting apart again, while the track’s body begins to soar and encircle the atmosphere. “The Substance of Grief Is Not Imaginary” has strange alien vocals effects that sound delivered in a spacious underground tunnel, while the guitars get grittier and the vocals sweep in like a mist looking to inebriate you. The song has a morbid, sinister feel as it reaches its conclusion, leaving the sense of threat and isolation to keep hold of everything. “Indigo Birds” follows, as it opens into a deep guitar gaze, with the line, “We slice the sun,” floating on top of the murk. There is great wooshing and beds of synth that spill texture all over the scene, as the whirry vocals and numb sentiments take over every cell of your body.

“I Have Four Sons, All Named for Men We Lost to War” is one of the heaviest, grimiest selections on the record, and it’s here where Vindsval and his bizarre sense of melody and composition have their greatest effect. A doomy, churning riff rips into the mix, and some elements give off the same dark essence as the last few Blut Aus Nord albums. It’s like two forces smashing together and creating a cataclysmic effect, making it one of the record’s most engaging tracks. “I Am So Sorry, Goodbye” has a mournful, dissonant start, with sounds echoing out and hanging in the air, and strange, warped passages that could leave your head cloudy. The song keeps building odd layers on top of itself, with melody and fuzz joining together at the end and closing this chapter. “My Father, Tall as Goliath” has reverberating vocals that bounce off the walls, with the guitars churning and going dark again and the words pleading, “Swallow us away.” The robotic vocals returns again to give the message a mechanical feel, and the elements gurgle underneath the surface and finally submit. Closer “Consilience” has the shortest title but it’s the longest passage at 9:23. Black guitar lines slither from the cracks in the walls, with the vocals soaring and your blood bubbling from the heat. The track also has a sleep-inducing quality, lulling you into calm as sounds float, keys create a bed of serenity, and the record disappears into the sky.

Pyramids are a fantastic, futuristic band that always find a way to do things in their own way, but they always remember to inject bits of their hearts and souls into the music. These eight songs are emotionally involved, wonderfully heart-affecting, and always soar high into the atmosphere, where you can follow the band into other worlds. It might not be the heaviest record from a sound standpoint, but it carries so much substance and imaginative weight, it could crush worlds.

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

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

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

Much has been made the past few years about the long-awaited new releases from Carcass and At the Gates, and for good reason. Each have had major impacts on the metal scene the past two decades, and their returns were seen as glorious, monumental events where past warriors come back to claim new triumphs.

But there are other bands resurfacing after long periods on inaction, including Dutch death machine Eternal Solstice. The band hasn’t delivered a new record since 1997’s “Demonic Fertilizer” before they went their separate ways. The group returned a few years ago and contributed to two split releases, and now they’re back with their first new full-length in 18 years, the gruff and punishing “Remnants of Immortality” that sounds as war-torn and brutal as their earlier work. They share some of the same traits as other death bands from their homeland, including Asphyx, Hail of Bullets, and Pestilence, as well as the bomb-blasting Bolt Thrower. This new, nine-track effort is furious and satisfying, and it’s great that this band could find new life, especially aligned with Dark Descent Records.

Eternal Solstice retain two long-time members in guitarist/vocalist Roman Soeterbroek and drummer Misha Hak, and joining them in this incarnation of the band are guitarist Ardy de Jong and bassist Tim Roeper. Even though they’re really just solidifying this lineup, they sound pretty damn formidable, with their assault well-oiled and violent, and with them hitting you as hard as they possibly can. Really, it’s almost as if this band didn’t miss a beat during their disappearance.

The instrumental title track opens the record in ominous fashion, with sirens wailing and war-like sounds grabbing your attention and holding it there. Then “Ritual Prey” explodes with a punchy death gallop, gruff growls, and a further sense that the warfront is mounting. “Striking again, again, again,” Soeterbroek howls, as strong leads burn and drive to the end of this very heavy, to-the-point track. “Walk in Darkness” has a clubbing, chugging open, giving off a Bolt Thrower feel and making you want to take up arms. Again the vocals are monstrous but also lurching, with a pace that crushes and blistering soloing that burns a hole through your soul. “Force Fed Suicide” has an ultra-aggressive start, with the drums pummeled and forcefully shouted growls erupting. The track has death-meets-thrash feel to it, with more electrifying soloing and a pace that rumbles all over the place. “Recipe for Death” starts with a slower, but no less heavy, pace, with furious lurching vocals that eventually turn into harsh grunts. The tempo speeds up markedly and starts stomping hard, eventually meeting up with a trudgy doom section, before it ignites all over again. Tortured wails are splashed behind the chaos, while guitars light up and deliver sleek soloing that powers the song until it fades away.

“Encroaching Horde” has a punishing open that encircles you and then swirls and mashes. The track is riffy and punchy, with catchy melodies intertwined that, fun as they may sound, still are delivered with stomping intent. Stronger guitar work colors this one, and the band just grinds you in its gears as it progresses. “Bleed for Me” has drumming that spills in from the last song, and it blisters and devastates you, throwing punches blindly. The vocals are as gruff and monstrous as anywhere else on this album, with Soeterbroek wailing, “I’ll take your innocence,” as those words are enhanced by the song’s thrashy mashing. “Extinction Debt” is introduced by mournful guitars that spread out their dark wings, but then the whole thing explodes and whips you with a fury. There are fantastic riffs involved, with all elements blasting forcefully and smothering chugging kicking up dirt. Closer “Subconscious Burial Ground” buries you with plastering, punishing, melodic death metal, with a sooty breakdown. The guitars hit a nasty groove, with the vocals refusing to relent and the final moments feeling like final push for total war.

Eternal Solstice’s reformation might not have gotten the in-the-street festivals similar to the aforementioned bands’ returns, but this group’s new album is just as rewarding and even more deadly. This Dutch death force deserves to be celebrated for their long-time commitment to the cause and for remaining as hungry and punishing as they were when they formed more than a quarter of a century ago. They’re hitting as hard as ever before, and the carnage on this new record proves they’re more than capable of increasing their already impressive body count.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Eternal-Solstice/384594534885754

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

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

Repellers

I am great at overlooking smaller packages. Just so great at it. For example, we basically cover full-length albums on this site, and for good reason as there are so damn many of them. But there are smaller releases that definitely are worth anyone’s while, so let’s get to a couple of them today.

Broken Limbs Recordings are a fun label to follow. They don’t put out giant indie releases that gets blogs and magazines in a tizzy. Yet. That day is going to come, because they do a fine job picking bands to release. But they’re there plugging away, putting new music into the metal underground, and always keeping things interesting. Not every one of their releases may resonate with you, but you can’t argue that they keep your eyes open. This is one of the labels that when I get their promos, I make sure to sit down with them and absorb each note, because time and care have been put into each release. These two are no different, one that pairs a site favorite with on that might be soon, and another a band’s new EP that’s bite size but wholly brutal.

Mortals

Up first we have a split from Brooklyn’s awesome Mortals, whose most recent album “Cursed to See the Future” was our eighth favorite record of last year and who have been growing in notoriety. This trio is one you need to see live, with bassist/vocalist Lesley Wolf destroying you with her howls, guitarist Elizabeth Cline slaying you with riffs, and drummer Caryn Havlik punishing you from behind the kit. They are part of this new split effort alongside Repellers, a relatively new band hailing from West Philadelphia that brings the shit heavily with their contributions to the effort. These guys—a trio consisting of bassist/vocalist Rob Petraitis, drummer/vocalist Tony Secreto, and guitarist/vocalist Jon Rifenburg—have a small resume at the moment, but no doubt they will branch out and maul fools for many years to come with their amalgamation of death, crust, thrash, and doom.

Mortals come at you first with a single track that runs nearly nine minutes and continues to display their penchant for stretching their sound. “10 Years of Filth” starts with a film clip packed with screaming before it loads into a tempered assault that leans toward sinewy thrashing. The guitars explore the surroundings, while Wolf’s growls are unleashed and go for the jugular. This has a different feel than a lot of their songs, especially what they unleashed on their last record, and as the track goes on, it finally hits full speed. The vocals lurch, the tempo is menacing, the riffs get gigantic and virulent, as Wolf wails, “This world was created for suffering,” sticking the dagger in one more time for good measure. This band rules.

Repellers’ three tracks are shorter and bloodthirsty and will leave you gasping for air. The viciousness and promise are on display as soon as “Descend” launches. Though the track is calm at first, it doesn’t take long until it rips into heavy blasting, vocals that note “nocturnal creatures stir,” and the band continuing the assault like they’re preparing you to feed to said ghouls. “From Jerico to Ai” doesn’t last long, but it makes the most of its time from the thick bassline that spills forth, the proggy weirdness that runs into a death march, and howls of, “Your next dream shall be your last!” that fully pays off the imminent threat. Closer “False Solace” pokes at blind faith, punches and smacks at you, and unleashes poisonous taunts such as, “No one is coming back, a false solace remains,” as the guys steamroll you for good and leave you a stain on the pavement. Repellers are on our radar for sure, and I’m pretty amped to hear where they go in the future.

For more on Mortals, go here: https://www.facebook.com/mortalstheband

For more on Repellers, go here: https://www.facebook.com/repellers

Ramlord

We also have a new EP from Ramlord, a band we most recently talked about last year due to their split effort with Krieg, and now they’re back with a blistering two-track, self-titled effort that will melt your neck off. Then your head will just be attached to your … chest? Ah, it’s worth it. The two cuts here are hard to explain, and what the band—vocalist/guitarist Jan (also of the great Leather Chalice), bassist Mike, and drummer/vocalist Ben—puts together can fit in all kinds of containers, from black metal, to noise, to hardcore, to punk, to death. No matter what you call it, the music grabs your attention forcefully and holds it against your will.

“The Breached Sanctum” is the first shot, with liquidy guitar work trickling down, feeling alien and spooky, before it rips open into full carnage. The growls are harsh and ominous, with the melodies flooding and bubbling black, and the vocals turning fierce and shrill. The music gets weird and challenging, the song takes a strange twist towards doom, and the song chugs its way to the finish. “The Fog of Neglect” has a punk edge, one that’s messy and filthy and that’s met with vocals that feel scuffed with glass and rusty metal. The track is mean and raw, with intense emotions blowing at you like sparks and fire, and the assault is monstrous and heavy. The last bits of the song meander into mud and sludge, as the band mashes you into the ground, letting you lie there as you bleed out until your expiration. This is a nice mini-effort that hopefully paves the way for their third full-length release.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ramlord/116149375131744

These are a couple of fun, worthwhile releases that will beat your ass but leave you happy that you went through the torment. Three great bands, a couple of smaller releases that you can digest in whole on your ride to and from work, and enough metal to fill whatever hole you have in your motivation tank. These may be smaller packages, but they certainly don’t lack in substance and crushing emotion.

To buy either album, go here: http://brokenlimbsrecordings.com/shop/

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

Drama and theatrics hardly are new things in metal. If you’ve ever been to an Iron Maiden show, you know that for certain. We live on stories and blood-pumping journeys into fantasy worlds, and without it, so much of heavy metal’s lore would be stripped away.

There are modern bands that also push beyond metallic displays on stage and do their best to transport you somewhere else, especially other eras. One of the best, most captivating is A Forest of Stars, whose records are virtual storybooks of death, danger, betrayals, heroes, villains, and anything you possibly could think they’d jam into their potion. The Leeds, England, based band is so hard to even pinpoint sound wise, as they dump all kinds of things into their display, just like all of the angles they jam into their storylines. There is black and dark metal, prog, art rock, psychedelics, and that’s just scratching the surface. This group sounds more like a drama troupe than a band, and if live performances could take place in large performance halls, there’s no doubt A Forest of Stars would fill the room.

This band has pushed out four ambitious albums the past seven years, the latest being “Beware the Sword You Cannot See,” which I think is their finest work to date. This group isn’t always easiest to embrace, especially if you’re a less daring listener, and all of the layers and over-the-top performances seem and feel larger than life and from a different, now yellowing era. The band is filled with colorful players, from lead vocalist/storyteller Mister Curse, whose presence is quite huge here and on their other albums; guitarists Mr. T.S. Kettleburner and newcomer Mr. William Wight-Barrow; bassist Mr. Titus Lungbutter; drummer Mr. John “The Resurrectionist” Bishop; percussionist/keyboard player The Gentleman; and violinist/vocalist Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts. Just looking at those names along should alert you that you’re in for something different, and then when you take on this fourth album, you’ll know you’re in for a trip.

“Drawing Down the Rain” begins our opus, with enrapturing melodies, strings cutting in, and a proggy sense blowing over. The vocals go from nasty growls to strange, quivering narration (both elements are intertwined for much of the record), while Katheryne has her say alongside Curse. Behind them, synth rises, guitars chug, and everything ends on a high note. “Hive Mindness” has voices swirling and droning, causing a hypnotic feel, and then it tears open with a fury. Keys bleed in, with the band getting punchy and the vocals again going back and forth from ravaging assault to madman rant. The guitars swell and burst, and the back end has a dark, dreary, gothic touch that adds the proper amount of hell. “A Blaze of Hammers” has shimmery keys and expressive vocals, with Curse howling, “Fuck you and the worms you rode in on.” There are trance-like melodies and punishing thrashing, with a dramatic reading coming in and unleashing demons, and lush strings providing temporary calm before everything explodes again. “Vitus Sola Invicta” blows into a black metal fury that’s harsh and bloody, with panic-inducing melodies, psychedelic wonders that coat the mind, and airy flutes that are torn apart by glorious, classic metal-style lead guitar play. “Proboscis Master Versus the Powdered Seraphs” is druggy and slurry, with Curse’s vocals sounding like a venomous diatribe and Katheryne’s singing adding beauty to the torment. Strings then envelop the chaos and drag everything into outer space.

The last half of the album is a six-movement, 21-minute-plus section called “Pawn on the Universal Chessboard” that’s a gripping, exciting piece of music. “Part 1: Mindslide” is full of ambiance and fluttering sounds, with Katheryne leading the way through this set-up piece that bleeds into “Part 2: Have You Got a Light, Boy?” where Curse taunts, “Are you a little lost, robot?” Keys buzz on end, and the cut has a dreamy, floating feel, which takes us to “Part 3: Perdurabo,” which Katheryne sinks into, seeking, “Can you release me/from this death-infested maze of cold?” The front part of it settles into weary, alien folk before the track is torn apart and a newfound ferocity rises up and sets everything in front of it ablaze. “I am not the way, nor the truth, nor the light,” Curse wails, as the rest of the song burns heavily and with great vengeance. That intensity subsides as “Part 4: An Automation Adrift” sets in, though that’s only in the metallic sense as the vocals sound as unhinged as ever, with the guitars later picking up and soaring on high. “Part 5: Lowly Worm” brings back the violence, with a brutal, grisly assault that sounds like a village being ransacked by barbarians. There also are power metal-style guitars that arrive, blistering punishment, and swelling melodies that spill into the finale “Part 6: Let There Be No Light.” It’s the longest of the six-track series at 5:14, with spooky keys feeling like they’re soundtracking a silent horror film, Katheryne adding extra layers of darkness, thick strings again injecting goth sensibilities, and chilling organs taking the song to its rather abrupt conclusion.

Certainly A Forest of Stars are not for everyone. If you need wall-to-wall brutality and bloodshed, you might find yourself scratching your head. But if you can get swept away by theatrical fire and metallic tale-weaving, you’ll be hard pressed not to have a great time taking on “Beware the Sword You Cannot See,” a daring, pulsating album. There’s really nothing like this band, and as hyperbolic as this may sound, you’re not bound to hear another record that sounds like this one for the rest of the year. Or maybe again until the next time they lurch back to us.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.aforestofstars.co.uk/

To buy the album, go here: http://www.theconnextion.com/prophecy/prophecy_index.cfm?

Or here: http://en.prophecy.de/shop/

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

Fórn

It’s always a good day when a trustworthy label comes at you with two pretty diverse recordings that could fit any number of different moods. That’s come as a blessing in disguise this week as shit has gone from me needing something that makes me want to drop a cement mixer on people to stretches where all I want to do is zone out.

Gilead Media, you’ve heard us talk about that label before, no? It’s one we’re not afraid to say we love alot, and they have a couple of new releases for you that can blacken or mesmerizer you. Adam Bartlett, the mind behind Gilead, never has been one to play it safe or just bombard the shit out of us with records just to see what sticks. Everything his label releases is hand-picked, carefully chosen, and while it might not all seem like it should fit in the same room, at the end of the day, it really does. He has two fests under his belt to prove that. Well, 2015 is going to be a more ambitious year for the label, as Bartlett expects records he’ll release to hit double digits (we have two more in our back pocket for later that’ll melt your fucking world), and he’s getting a nice start with two albums that seem diametrically opposed musically. But that’s fine. Diversity is a good thing.

Up first is a massive slab of doom and sludge from Fórn, a Boston-based band who last year released tidal-waving “The Departure of Consciousness” with Vendetta Records on vinyl. If you’re new to the band, think of something halfway between Morne and Neurosis. Gilead, making a rather odd move for them, stepped up and offered a CD version of the album so that more U.S. fans could get their hands on this hellacious document. Packaged in a heavy duty gatefold jacket with artwork by the great Bryan Proteau, it’s almost like you’re getting a mini vinyl version of the release anyway. That you’ll have to play in an entirely different machine than your LPs. I’m over-explaining. As for the band, it’s a quintet of massiveness, with Chris P. on vocals; Joey and Brandon on guitars; Brian on bass; and Chris D on drums.

“Emergence” kicks off the album with a slow-driving approach, atmospheric and hazy, with a long build. The sludge later arrives, offering the first major blows, and it sets the tone for what’s to come, specifically “Dweller on the Threshold.” There, doom-infested riffs kick down the doors, as the bottom drops out and crushes bodies, and the vocals deliver a mammoth beating. The ferocity is noteworthy and hard to avoid, as shrapnel is sent flying your way, and the track ends with noise boiling over and scathing. “Gates of the Astral Plane” is a standout track at 7:28 and opens with a dark, beastly assault that blends into a slow-boiling fury. The track has a deep sorrow and darkness that reminds a bit of Bell Witch, as the song goes back and forth from somber to absolutely volcanic. It’s one hell of a journey, this track. “Alexithymia” keeps the somber sentiment in the air, as the guitars are darkly melodic, but then the rage breaks the surface. The band gets into a thrashy groove, with noise flooding the area and the pace continually hammering you. “Suffering in the Eternal Void” is reflective and plods along, setting a mood and luring you into the abyss. Just as you start to wander, the whole thing rips open and swallows you up, with massive pounding, elegant guitar work, and throat-mangling howls painting the horrific picture. Then it all fades with “Cerebral Intermission,” a quick, trickling outro piece that finally introduces a dose of calm in what’s otherwise a chaos-filled world Fórn create on this pulverizing album.

For more on Fórn, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Forndoom

Implodes

The oddball of the two new records come by way of Implodes, who hail from Chicago and have a pair of records out under the Kranky banner. Gilead is offering their new 12-inch effort “Reverser,” a collection that culls together a pair of unreleased tracks from their “Recurring Dreams” sessions, as well as two brand new songs that’ll make your head float. This band deals in fuzzy, drug-dream-atmospherics, and I have spaced out more times than I can count listening to these four tracks. The band—Ken Camden (who also has a noteworthy solo career), Emily Elhaj (a member of Angel Olsen’s and, as well as Mayor Daley), Matt Jencik (live bassist for Slint and Papa M), and Justin Rathell (of El Mejor)—easily glide inside your mind, balancing you on waves of electric stimulation that makes every nerve numb, every sequence of your visit feel like an out-of-body experience. Comparisons are hard to come by, but here’s a lazy one: Had Syd Barrett’s creative era been right now, I can imagine he would come up with something a lot like this.

You should understand right away what makes this band so special when you hear “Out of Reach,” where cold guitars echo, sounds woosh like you’re soaring through outer space, and psychedelic keys offer a sense of total isolation and cosmic claustrophobia. You may trance out at the end, leading headlong into “Lazy Skull” with its reverb-rich noise and glowing, burning guitar lines. The vocals feel ghostly and properly detached, like a buoy bobbing on the surface of a murky sea, with the passage heavily washed out and a thick fog forming in your headspace. Every time I hear this, I feel like all of the elements are levitating and rotating around my head, leaving me reaching out for objects that aren’t actually there. “Don’t Leave the House” has strummed guitars, music spread like a mind-altering coat, and the same style of singing, where it feels like the band’s goal is hypnosis. The guitars are scorched and later simmer, while the presence of trippiness is to be embraced and celebrated. The closing title cut has guitars that roll in from behind the clouds, a collection of melodies that’ll make your head swim, and swirling keys that make me think of lying on the grass in the summer and watching sky formations develop. That sense keeps building and revealing new colors before the whole thing disappears gently and unassumingly.

There you have it, two very different, incredibly satisfying albums that hit quite diverse spots. If you take on both, you can get bulldozed first, then get glazed over with pain medication that’ll leave you feeling alien thrills. Or the other way around. If you choose to only go heavy or fuzzy, you’re still in for a rewarding trip, as both bands deliver the goods and keep you returning for many refills.

For more on Implodes, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Implodes

To buy either album, go here: http://www.gileadmedia.net/store/

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

There are bands that, no matter how long they are together and no matter how many records they release, you feel like each new effort takes you somewhere worthwhile. Whether it’s being transported somewhere mentally or giving you a taste of something happening on the other side of the world, long-running bands that always manage to move you somewhere are to be treasured.

Melechesh are one of those, the Jerusalem-bred band driven by primary creator Ashmedi, who has helmed the band since its creation back in 1993 and still is finding inspiration in a virtual unending oasis of Mesopotamian/Sumerian mythology and lore. Over the course of six albums now, they have blessed the world with a nice catalog of Middle Eastern-flavored black metal that can both mesmerize and destroy you, and this band has remained one of the most unique and identifiable anywhere. That’s not an easy feat in today’s oversaturated world. But from the band’s 1996 debut “As Jerusalem Burns … Al’Intisar” through to their last record “The Epigenesis,” Melechesh have provided a constant look into a world still quite mysterious to many of us Westerners but that has been a part of Ashmedi’s DNA from the very beginning.

It’s been five long years since we last heard from the band, and oddly, it doesn’t seem like that much time has passed since “The Epigenesis.” Maybe that’s just me. But anyway, the band has returned with a 62-minute, nine-track opus “Enki,” named after a Sumerian god of mischief, crafts, water, and other elements. Ashmedi remains front and center here, driving the band through these great cuts, and he and the rest of the unit assembled for this record really answered the bell. Moloch returned to offer his guitar work, which he has in the past, and long-time associate Lord Curse came back on board to provide drums, melding a union with fellow rhythm player, bassist Scorpios. They managed to make one of Melechesh’s most interesting records in some time, one I find myself enjoying as much as anything since their earlier days. It’s really rich and always rewarding.

“Tempest Temper Enlil Enraged” is a mouthful to say, and it has a sweltering start that’s torn open with massive riffs. There is a brief narration followed by mystical melodies and eventually devastating growls that come in. The song chugs with force, with a punk feel in some spots, ending with a last assault that’s harsh and texturesd. “The Pendulum Speaks” has guitars leaning in, followed by steady drumming that sets the pace. The growls sound apocalyptic and deadly, with the tempo driving forward, the lead guitars dizzying, and the whole thing taking on a mesmerizing ambiance. “Last Tribes” strikes hard and fast, leaving you no time to prepare. The song is fast, the vocals are barked out, and the leads trickle heavily, surrounding your feet with water and blood. After a brief bit of calm, the thunder returns, with the band striking hard and the soloing burning out of control. “Multiple Truths” drives dust and sand into the air again, with an otherworldly feel to the guitars, and creaky, shriek-filled vocals from Ashmedi, who bellows about “words from the soil,” as the final moments mash you into a paste.

“Enki Divine Nature Awoken” is the second-longest track at 8:38, and it begins deep into a Middle Eastern-style string section, hazy, cloudy instrumentation, and then a pattern of ferocity. Some of the tempo is mucky and sludgy, with an echoey voice later speaking over the noise, before chant-like singing and a mystical ambiance take the song to its final resting place. “Metatron and Man” is in full rage from the get go, with fiery playing and Ashmedi wailing, “The fallen ones are calling you!” The band hits a punishing level of thrash goodness, with more chant-like shouts and a furious conclusion. “The Palm the Eye and Lapis Lazuli” begins with sitars setting the mood and a fog wafting in, before riffs blow up, and the band hits a serious groove. Again the band finds a devastating black thrash mode, with Ashmedi howling, “Let me show you the way,” as the track dissolves into fire. “Doorways to Irkala” is quite a twist in a different direction, and this mostly quiet instrumental barely rises above a hush and creates a mysterious atmosphere. There are acoustics, moaning strings, native horns, hand drumming, and a reflective state achieved. That all leads to the 12:47 conclusion “The Outsiders,” a track that takes a little bit of time to get its footing, but once it does, it’s pretty dazzling. The guitar work really powers this one for the most part, as the soloing is soulful and exploratory, letting your mind go with them. But with about three minutes left, they turn their weapons on you. A crazed outburst occurs, with the band hitting full stride, the vocals sounding infernally delivered, and the lead lines even leaning into blues before all is said, done, and left smoking.

Melechesh sound refreshed and invigorated, making “Enki” a pleasant surprise from a well-rounded, well-traveled veteran band. If these guys need to keep taking five-year stretches to find true inspiration for recording, then the world is better for it. This is one of the band’s more enjoyable, colorful albums, and it provides no shortage of opportunities to be whisked away and planted in the sunburnt desert, where Melechesh finds their muse.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://shop.nuclearblast.com/en/shop/

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

There has been a nice wave of metal lately seemingly designed to make us feel all the feelings. And, of course, a lot of that gets rejected by metal folk because we have frozen hearts and do not experience things such as sadness, frustration, and depression. Right? Yeah. Some people are a little too tough guy for their own good.

Anyway, if you’re not one who gets your bullet belt all twisted at the mere mention of a band such as Deafheaven, Alcest, Lantlos, or Amesoeurs, then you’ll be thrilled to know that mysterious Dutch band An Autumn for Crippled Children have returned with another helping of wholly emotional, feeling-infused black metal that could make anyone vulnerable cry and thrash the head at the same time. “The Long Goodbye” is the band’s first record since 2013’s toppling “Try Not to Destroy Everything You Love” and is their fifth serving overall. It’s as darkly colorful as it is heavy, with the band mixing in elements of indie rock along with their fire-breathing metallic tendencies. If you’ve been on board with the band over the long haul, you’ll know what to expect. That’s not a bad thing, really, because the band has a formula that works, and they don’t try to be anything they aren’t.

As noted, we don’t know much about the figures behind this music. There are three members—MXM on vocals, guitars, and keyboards; TXT on bass and keyboards; and CXC on drums—who all have been on board since the band’s 2010 debut record “Lost,” and any effort to try to cultivate any more facts will leave you in a corner. By who cares who they are, really? Their quest for secrecy should be embraced and it never feels like it’s done to drum up publicity. They’ve done their thing well for a long time, existing in something of a vacuum, and “The Long Goodbye” proves they’re very much still onto a good thing that keeps on giving to its audience.

The title cut opens the record, infusing charged-up melodies, deep, harsh shrieks, and colorful, brutal playing into the formula. Keys later drip into the picture to add depth, while the back end darkens even more, the track blows wide open, and the final moments gush with power. “Converging Towards the Light” feels murky and foggy at the start, with a black metal-style assault eventually running roughshod. There also is a psychedelic sheen to all of this, as the song changes colors before our eyes, from bright hues to pure darkness. “A New Form of Stillness” doesn’t sound very fittingly named the way it speeds with intensity from the gates. The vocals are savage and bristle above the thick wall of sound, created with guitar lines that bleed emotion, airy passages that let atmospherics play a role, and more vocals that sound like they were squeezed from MXM’s heart. “Only Skin” has a cold, science lab feel to it, as the icy melodies chill your blood and the expression of darkness wells to flood level. This song sometimes feels like the Cure and Xasthur doing battle, reveling in hopelessness and finding ways to express that in both beauty and horror. “When Night Leaves Again” has some breezy work that might make it feel like a cool evening, but then things get punchy, as the tempos pick up, the ugliness finds a ravaging new level, and the vocals sound pained and in agony. Every element blazes brightly on this song, which could have you covering your eyes to quell your sensitivity.

“She’s Drawing Mountains” begins in clean waters, with synth rising up like a cloud and obscuring your vision and the track eventually tearing open when you least expect it. The vocals are savage and forceful, with the band following suit, allowing everything to ease up for just a moment before it explodes anew. “Endless Skies” has some programmed beats making things feel chilled out to start, but as you may have guessed, the serenity doesn’t last for long. Guitars begin their rampage, with melodies cascading, layers of glimmering sound floating, and the band finding another level of emotional expression. “Gleam” feels a little poppy when it opens up, something to get you going and moving before the eruption strikes. Everything here is spewed at you, mesmerizing you with sound and cutting you apart with penetrating growls. Closer “The Sleep of Rust” begins a little slower, with the tempo feeling calculating and moody, the track getting heavier all of a sudden, and then things returning to the stratosphere. We eventually rush back to heavier sections, letting the band agitate the fires one more time before it dissolves into a section that gives off a nostalgic, late-night feel, where you coast off into the ether.

An Autumn for Crippled Children keep building their cauldron of sadness and emotion, and this fifth record is as good as anything else in their catalog. Just because it’s not fire-breathing ferocity doesn’t strip it of its impact, and this record can devastate you as much as anything. “The Long Goodbye” is another strong building block on this band’s dark journey.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/aafcc2009

To buy the album, go here: http://wickermanrec.bigcartel.com/

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

There are many great voices in the world of metal, so many that when I hear people with zero knowledge of the genre act like everyone vocalizes like Cookie Monster, it pisses me off. Case in point? Listen to Windhand’s Dorthia Cottrell weave her magic on the band’s great records and tell me that she isn’t one of the best voices you’ve ever heard. Witness her live and the opinion should double.

So today, we’re lucky to have Cottrell’s debut solo record to talk about, and damn, if this isn’t a great one. Now, make no mistake, this isn’t a metal-centric album. Not at all. Instead, Cottrell travels dusty, winding folk and country roads, piercing at your heart with her honesty and heartbreak, and leaving you never feeling the same way again. In fact, I was playing the record in the car with my wife, and she said that her voice “makes me want to cry.” That’s in a good way, because the voice dug so deep down within her and affected her emotionally, that’s all she could think to do. Cottrell’s husky, smoky singing can do that to you, and you get to hear and see a totally different side to her on this excellent album.

Cottrell is the latest in a long line of metal musicians who have exposed their love for the roots of music and for those singer-songwriters who wore their hearts on their sleeves, bleeding for all to see. Artists including YOB’s Mike Scheidt, USX’s Nate Hall, and Neurosis’ Scott Kelly and Steve Von Till have gone down these same paths and created music markedly different from the bands for which they’re known. Like those artists, Cottrell’s efforts are genuine and come from a real place. It’s not to tack onto some movement. She has spoken of how this style of music is prominent among her family members and that gatherings often spin into long musical sessions. Some of the songs on this album have spanned a decade in the making, so this record has been brewing for some time. Hearing the results is cathartic and moving, a visit with a truly great musician who not only makes the metal world a better place but who has so much more to share with many different styles of music.

Cottrell heads down a dark path right away with “Cemetery Song,” as the acoustics haunt, the track feels both sultry and doomy, and she calls, “This is where forever dies,” instantly chilling your blood. “Gold” is an absolute gem, with vocal melodies that will stick in your head for days on end. The guitars slur and slide, with the piece feeling shadowy and noiry, and Cottrell repeatedly warns, “I know where you’ve been.” “Oak Grove” follows a similar line musically, with the guitars quivering and weeping, the vocals threatening and teasing, and Cottrell wondering, “Are you going to forgive or make me pay?” “Orphan Bird” simmers right away, with the singing stretching out a little further, feeling deliberate in its delivery, and sitars et situated to give the song a far-off, mystical feel. “Vessel” is a bit more atmospheric, with acoustic strums setting the tone and Cottrell’s vocals picking up intensity as the track goes on.

“Maybe It’s True” is the longest of the group at 6:34, and it’s a vulnerable, bleeding thing that will swallow you whole. The melody feels lullaby-style, with the guitars swirling methodically and the words sounding profoundly sad. “Maybe I’ll never be that take-home kind of girl,” Cottrell admits, as the music around her settles into dark, somber corners. “Moth” reminds me a bit, in tone anyway, of Alice in Chains’ old acoustic recordings, with the song buzzing forward, a sense of dread rising, and the atmosphere settling above your head like a storm cloud. “Kneeler” has a heavy country folk feel, with Cottrell gazing at the ominous gallows pole, weaving in some of the record’s most painful moments, delivered by some of her best singing on the album. Next is a strong, pretty faithful take on Townes Van Zandt’s “Rake,” which feels like a fitting tribute to the original artist. “Perennial” goes back to old country roads, ones covered in snow and frost, making like a track that would sound ideally delivered in a smoky cabin, with the fireplace embers glowing. Closer “Song for You” is a stripped-down take on the Graham Parsons classic, which she turns into a naked, vulnerable number that hammers you with emotion sadness. She takes this song and makes it her very own, transforming it into something that could tuck you into bed at night as you do what you can to escape the day’s lingering ghosts.

It’s impossible to walk away from this record unaffected emotionally. Cottrell’s blood is smeared all over the workings of these 11 cuts, and her raw intensity is something to behold. There’s never been any question as to whether Cottrell is a great singer, one in the best in all the metal world. This album only cements her power, proves her meddle, and establishes her as one of modern music’s most gifted, rewarding artists. Those equally moved by both doom and Americana are likely to burst over this thing, and hopefully it’s only Cottrell’s first in a long series of collections that scour her soul for whatever scars she cares to reveal.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://shop.forcefieldrecords.org/

For more on the album, go here: http://www.forcefieldrecords.org/site/