Photo by Juha Karvonen

There are bands that could just show up—be it in a live setting or in a studio—and their followers would be happy with no matter what resulted. Admittedly, I am that way with Iron Maiden, though I think my excitement over their latest album and subsequent plans to tour are based just as much on quality as on my deep devotion to them.

One band like that is Skepticism, the pioneering funeral doom band that made an all-time classic in 1995’s “Stormcrowfleet” (if you’ve never heard that record, stop reading this and return once you have) and is one of the most revered in all of doom. Their appearance at this past spring’s Maryland Deathfest was one of the unquestioned main events and the reason many people (including me) traveled to the event in the first place. The fact that they played in blinding sun in late afternoon made no difference. Seeing them and experiencing them was what mattered the most. And that live experience with the band was a total life achievement unlocked. Ever since their aforementioned legendary debut and through their three records that would follow, the band developed a sterling reputation for good reason. They are the gold standard among funeral doom, and any new record or live performance is something to behold just because it isn’t something that happens every day.

Not long after MDF, word came that a new Skepticism album was on the horizon, and that document soon will be in all of our hands in the form of “Ordeal.” But there’s a bit of a catch, and a good one. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill studio excursion. The band actually recorded the new material in front of a live audience Jan. 24 in Turku, Finland, so you have a combination fresh album and concert record all in one. It certainly is an interesting idea, figuring they had to nail this thing in one take, and the result is raw, exciting, pulsating, and so very Skepticism. Here, you get six brand new tracks, as well as two older tracks tacked on, for an eight-cut, 77-minute experience. Here we find the band—vocalist Matti Tilaeus, guitarists Jani Kekarainen and live member Timo Sitomaniemi, keyboard player Eero Pöyry, and drummer Lasse Pekonen—in fine form, delivering a very interesting new record that should hit all the necessary buttons for any Skepticism devotee.

The record begins with “You,” a track that takes some time to unfurl, but once it does, its majesty is apparent. Tilaeus’ croaking growls are at a desperate state here, as the guitars unfold to pack his wails with dark power, the keys add levels of morbidity, and the clean trickling makes it feel like a cold rain is drenching you. This 9:21 dirge is thick, ominous, and full of sorrow, with the guitars burning brightly as the song comes to its tragic end. That bleeds right into “Momentary,” and it feeds off the black energy with organs swelling, almost sounding like a morose carnival. From there, the atmosphere grows thick, with the growls sounding tortured and raw, the song going in and out of light and dark, and the keys blowing back steam. The final moments build a crescendo that can only end in tears, letting the intensity slowly bleed out, only to be met by the audience’s adulation. Nice touch, by the way, keeping the applause as part of the sound. “The Departure,” a 9:53 bruiser, comes next, and the organs blare right from the start, with the pace lumbering along and Tilaeus’ growls lacerating. The sentiment here is total loss, with the doom punishment thickening, the growls growing deadlier, and blackness being poured on dump trucks at a time, leaving no one above the surface of their dark waves.

“March Incomplete” is the longest of the new cuts, slithering for 12 minutes on the nose and starting with a sense of hush. There is no hurry here, and why rush an atmosphere anyway? It all pays off as the guitars march slowly and the vocals pierce old wounds, bringing new blood to the surface. Thick cloud cover blows in, with an eerie dialog slipping underneath, and as Tilaeus urges, “Let them die!” the song bursts anew, with scintillating soloing raging, and the band squeezing and churning every bit of this thing. From there, we head toward “The Road,” the shortest of all the cuts at 6:58 and one of the most forceful. The guitars chew their way across the scenery, with organs wailing, the melodies surging, and Tilaeus wondering, “Have I passed the ordeal?” The riffs kick back in, the song hardens, and swirling keys and chocked vocals take us to the finish line. “Closing Music” is the final new track, and it’s given a very fitting title considering what’s contained in this 10:20 cut. The guitars crash down as the drums come to life, and the organs pour a nighttime full of texture. The melodies are thick as fog, setting a scene that feels hopeless and tragic, folding their way almost halfway through the song before Tilaeus howls a single word. The drama is intense and tangible, with the music giving off mysterious bursts and Tilaeus, uncharacteristically, yelling his final lines over top the chaos, finally ending with, “There’s only silence …” which is followed by just that. And then applause. The band adds “Pouring” from “Stormcrowfleet” and “The March and the Stream” from “Lead and Aether” for good measure and to round out this riveting, breathtaking performance.

Credit to Skepticism not only for making six great new songs but also for eschewing conventionality on “Ordeal.” They remain as important and relevant today as ever, and this new collection only hammers that home as forcefully as possible. Yes, just having anything new from Skepticism is a great gift. Having something this good and inspired only makes things that much more enjoyable in the most depressing manner possible.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.skepticism.fi/

To buy the album, go here: http://svartrecords.com/shoppe/

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

As much as I enjoy summer’s descent into fall and the coming winter months, they also fill me with a degree of anxiety. For it also is the coming flu and illness season, and with that will come me over-washing my psoriasis-ridden hands and avoiding places I generally don’t during spring, summer, and early autumn months. I’m a good time over winter. Just ask wife person.

I got to thinking about this for two reasons: First, it’s been the first stretch of days here in my section of the East where temperatures barely are making it to 65 degrees, and the skies are charcoal gray. Second, I’ve been spending a lot of time with “Darkness Evermore,” the second record from Nightfell. See, this new opus, every bit as dark and foreboding as their debut record “The Living Ever Mourn” (funny, but you pair both of their album titles together in a sentence, and they sound like the blackest lyrics of all), focuses on a tale of humanity being ravaged by a plague, and its survivors are forced to seek shelter underground in order to remain alive. Once there, they realize they’re trapped themselves in a sort of underground prison, bringing new levels of hell to their existence. Terrifying, because I’d probably be the first person running for the hatch. Maybe I need to rethink that one.

Nightfell, in case you are unaware, is a pairing of two relentless forces who comes from different ends of the underground spectrum respectively but find common quaking ground here. Todd Burdette is best known from his work in bands such as Tragedy and His Hero Is Gone, and he teams up with Tim Call, who has made his name known in Aldebaran, Sempiturnal Dusk, the Howling Wind, and plenty more, as well as running the awesome Parasitic Records. Here, the two creators meld doom, death, black metal, and cold atmosphere, and each step of “Darkness Evermore” feels like a new, more hopeless chapter in their story, as you can feel the decay and erosion.

The tale begins with “At Last,” which opens with clean guitars, Julia Kent’s dark cello, and the last gasp of light before the song truly opens and the tumult begins. The pace mauls slowly, with Burdette howling over the din and the riffs coming down in dark waves. The song, much like the record, feels like it is building blocks, with the melodies twisting and turning into new beasts, and the story cutting its way through. The final minutes go cold, with guitars trickling, the cello piercing again, and Burdette delivering a morbid dialog. But then the fury re-emerges, coloring the end with fire. “Ritual” is a quick, murky interlude, with strange chants and a chilling ambiance, and then it’s onto “Cleansing,” which starts with a doom-infested charge. There are hints of black metal in the melodies, and the drums beat down on the senses. Burdette’s growls are raw and violent, and the tempo pushes with conviction until it pulls back and lets a foggy atmosphere leak into the room. The serenity doesn’t last long, as cataclysmic melodies swell, the riffs pummel, and the track comes to a mud-caked ending.

“Rebirth” takes its time to establish itself, but once it does, the smothering doesn’t take long to set up and come right after you. The leads guitars churn and burn, the growls sound grim and monstrous, and another coverage of chilled winds blow in you give you a breath before everything boils over again, from the guitars, to the throaty howls, to the drums being decimated. The chaos finally comes to an end in a swampy, tar-thick path, and that rolls into “Eulogy.” This isn’t so much an interlude as it is a shorter plot point along the way, with a deathrock feel to the plodding melodies, the drums echoing, and Kent’s cello giving a haunting feeling. Finale “Collapse” should be clear thematically from its title, and it doesn’t disappoint with tales of bloodshed and panic. The riffs take over right away, as the song dominates every section of your mind, and it also delves into dirtier, grittier passages. Every element is poured on thick, with the guttural growls telling the story’s last act, and the music splattering blood, filth, and glorious terror, with the record closing rather suddenly, like a final death blow has been dealt.

Nightfell are on a pretty impressive roll, with two blistering full-length records in less than two years. “Darkness Evermore” builds on what the band created on “The Living Ever Mourn” and also gives us a terrifying vision of something that truly can come to pass. Pummeling music and a sobering apocalyptic visions make this record demolishingly satisfying and completely anxiety inducing all at the same time.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.20buckspin.com/collections/music

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

Drama and over-the-top expression are almost expected in heavy metal. Some of the greats—your King Diamond, your Mercyful Fate, your Iron Maiden—went above and beyond to add passion and theatricality to their music, and they became legends for it. At the same time, if you go too far, you’re going to lose people.

Howls of Ebb are one of the modern bands adding many emotional, cinematic dashes to their work. You don’t just put on one of their records and zone out. You have no choice but to engage with them, and if their target is a little off the mark for you (or a lot), chances are digestion will be impossible. The San Francisco-based death/black metal hybrid might take some getting used to at first. Or if you’re like me, the moment you sink your teeth into their music, you find yourself a willing passenger on their morose journey. On their brand new MLP “The Marrow Veil,” the band bookends their piece with two epics that sound like nothing else you will hear in extreme metal, as well as one eerie passage that acts as a segue between doses of madness. Another weird personal note for me: My first experience listening to this EP wad during a driving rainstorm. My last trip with this before writing my piece on it? You guessed it. Driving rainstorm. Perfect setting for taking in this insanity.

On top of the unique expressions the band creates, they also identify themselves and their duties in ways that will make you scratch your head. Zelevthand is responsible for vibrations, polysyllabic mysticism, and synthetic magikx; Benign Blight is charged with 5th dimensional undertows; while Rotn Bliss is credited with cadence of limp, duress, and bronze winds. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what means what here, but hey, it’s a fun quirk to an already out-there band. “The Marrow Veil” is the first thing the band has released since their challenging debut album “Vigils of the 3rd Eye,” but this one takes matters even further and surely will provide plenty of bizarre punishment and misdirection.

“Standing on Bedlam, Burning in Bliss” starts oddly enough, with chilling dialog and the music spilling out of that feeling absolutely freezing. In fact, the first several minutes of the 19:45 song completely fuck with you. The pace crawls like an earthworm, with odd, buried howls adding to the sense you are being frozen to death. Now and again, a spark of ferocity will surge forward, only to be sucked back into the vortex. And then it happens. The tempo explodes, swaggering riffs maul you to and fro, and the fierce, forceful growls do the storyteller/epitaph reader mode ideally. The guitars pierce and jab at the ribs, while the rest of the track floods your mind with morbidity. Suddenly, everything slips back into its shell again, but you know an attack is coming on the other side. Sure enough, it hits, with weirdly jazzy soloing and a panicked assault from an assailant that knows it better finish you off lest you walk away able to breathe its name to any other living being.

“Dusks Tyrannical Love” is a quick one, running just 2:28 and acting a perfect bridge to the final act. Here, hushed, tornadic sounds and eerie speaking swallow any sense of sanity. Noises sting your ears and help to build your anxiety, spilling nicely into finale “Iron Laurels, Woven in Rust.” The drama remains thick and penetrating, as the band works to eat away at any inhibitions you have left, unleashing strange, cavernous noises. The track lurches along, feeling a bit like a Deathspell Omega track for a time, taking on weird and suffocating ambiance. Out of a pit of groans comes a jerking, dissonant assault that smears and confounds, with the monstrous growls stymieing all sense and the ugly music churning. There is hypnotic, spacey interplay, with melodies looping and the band heading into some of the heaviest thrashing on the record. There also are progressive tendencies, with the bass feeling rubbery and strong soloing working alongside. Drone hum takes over for a stretch, while all forces rise back up, things blaze anew, and all of the warped magic disappears down the drain toward from the hell where it originated.

Yeah, it stands to reason that this band isn’t for everyone. Howls of Ebb likely aren’t trying to lure in everyone, though, and would be perfectly content to sicken the minds of those who embrace their hellish underworld. “The Marrow Veil” is the type of effort that sticks with you, hauntingly so, making it tough to comprehend your worldview afterward. The band also is a refreshing beacon of creativity in a world often lacking it, and their future sojourns are ones we will anticipate with great curiosity and wonder.

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

To buy either album, go here: http://www.i-voidhanger.com/mailorder.htm

For more on the label, go here: http://www.i-voidhanger.com/

Waging war might not be humanity’s greatest attribute, but alas, it’s seemingly what we do. Over land disputes, religious disagreements, fossil fuels, or just for the hell of it, we’re always tearing at someone’s throats. And as long as we have heavy metal around, there always will be bands that will write about it.

Kansas City, Mo., trio Ares Kingdom is one of them, and their nasty, wholly destructive sounds have amassed followers and admirers the world over. Maybe not as well-known as like-minded bands such as Bolt Thrower, Hail of Bullets, and Asphyx, this band is just as nasty and violent as anyone else out there. Their blistering, penetrating style has become their trademark for the past two decades, and over three full-length releases and a slew of compilations and EPs, they have become a go-to band for ideally translating the hell of battles and the struggle for dominance into their drilling death metal. It’s not pretty, but weirdly, it can be quite catchy to take in. Those riffs, right?

The band’s latest record “The Unburiable Dead” is more from their bloody vault, and it certainly will please anyone who’s been along for the whole terrifying ride with the group. This record is seven tracks spread out over 45 minutes, and there is nary room to breathe during the entire excursion. Ares Kingdom—vocalist/bassist Alex Blume, guitarist Chuck Keller, drummer Mike Miller—have been doing their thing ever since formation in 1996. Over the years, they’ve blasted out their 2006 debut album “Return to Dust,” as well as 2010’s world-toppling “Incendiary,” finally returning five years later with their current work. It’s just as heavy and menacing as anything in their arsenal, and it’s bound to get your blood flowing hard.

“Ubique” tears the lid off this thing, blasting open and pouring buckets of molten steel and heavy death thrash into the mix. The growls are gruff, and the howls of, “Wave upon wave upon wave upon wave!” over the chorus not only provides perfect shout-back fodder, but actually seem to describing what you’re witnessing before you. The soloing catches fire and charges gloriously, while the final moments explode with power. “Nom de Guerre” has rapidly-spat vocals that drub you, as well as blinding and vicious playing that leaves welts. The drums are just crushed, while the mauling gets thicker and thicker, and soloing tears out of the final moments, leaving everything scorched. “Salient and Redoubt” has a nice helping of tasty riffs, with menacing thrashing and vocals that sound like they’re trying to destroy Blume’s throat. The pace is savage and fierce, with everything fading out in a pool of noise. “Demoralize” has gigantic, surging riffs, with classic-style thrashing, a simple chorus where the song title is bellowed over and over, and soloing that just torches the skin. More gut-wrenching growls come out of that, with the track ending in blistering hell.

“Writhe: Fettered to a Corpse” is a skull-mashing instrumental, with meaty riffs meeting up with glimmering guitar work. The song is plenty heavy, and even without any savage growls from Blume, the level of violence is unquestionable. The title cut follows, with clean notes echoing out and the track taking on a slow burn. “Death gives life its meaning,” Blume howls, as the band lets loose every piece of their sweltering artillery. Closer “Stultifera Navis (Armistice and League)” is the longest cut on the album at 11:08, and its super-thick bassline runs headlock into the charging guitars, kicking up a suffocating cloud of smoke. The song has a great give and take over the course of its epic run, leaning into vicious clubbing one moments, pulling back and letting the atmosphere breathe in others. Tribal-style drums surface at one point, with voices swirling, and later on the guitars rise up and show their dominance again. The darkness shifts into the scene, with the sound of an old warship creaking, and the track keeps building the intensity until the fire hits its apex and the fury melts away.

As raucous and fire-breathing as ever before, Ares Kingdom sound punishing and gut-wrenching on “The Unburiable Dead.” The record never stops, piling body upon body, blast on top of blast through its run time. This is one of the most consistent, molten of all death metal bands, especially those painting bloody horrors of battle. They’ve yet to let us down, and this new opus indicates their fires are far from being extinguished.

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

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

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

We are ensconced in an era where everything must be super serious. No fun, man! None at all. Every record must live up to some bizarre standard, and if for some reason people might have fun listening to your record instead of contemplating everything that is true during its run time, then it is something that must be run into the ground.

That’s a big issue with being a metal fan and scribe in 2015. Certainly there are plenty of bands whose sole purpose seems to be to fulfill lives, and their albums get waves of adulation that sometimes go overboard. But not every band has to change the world or live up to some preordained rules in order to be legitimate and strong. That’s not to suggest that Christian Mistress don’t belong in the aforementioned conversation, because they’ve put out some damn good music during their run. But as of late, they’ve being shoved into that territory where the internet doubts them and their mission is cast with dismissing comments. I have no idea why, but that’s what I’m feeling simmering in social media filth. But that’s harsh as Christian Mistress always have been a loose, strong, fun heavy metal machine that reaches back into the 1970s and 1980s for inspiration and have done so again on their third full-length effort “To Your Death.” They make damn good records, and I seriously they doubt where people slot them on the metal tree of woe anyhow.

“Neon” kicks off the record with catchy riffs and the feeling we’re jettisoning back to three decades ago when the power of metal was more important than philosophical nit picking. “I don’t care anymore,” Davis bellows over the chorus, as some strong dual guitar lines spill in, the band chugs out, and the line, “If we meet in the dark, everything is all right,” hammers home the exclamation point. “Stronger Than Blood” has a Thin Lizzy feel to it, and the intensity keeps building, especially when Davis belts, “We’re ready to fight, are you coming along?” The song is commanding and sticky, remaining in your head long after it’s done playing. Guitars light up immediately at the start of “No Place,” as dual playing lights the way and Davis warns, “They’re going to take it all away.” “Walkin’ Around” is not as light as the title may suggest. In fact, there are dark matters going on here as the song takes its time to build, but as Davis gets going on the verses, the guitars strike along with her. She lets on not all is well, though, as she admits, “Looking for something to hold, you’re giving me nothing at all,” and she and the rest of the band show their defiance.

“Open Road” is the first single from the record (Davis directed to video clip for the track), and it’s a pretty catchy one. There’s a journey to this one, which you can tell just from Davis’ words and singing, and the band injects the right amount of energy. “I want you back in my arms,” Davis wails over the chorus, and the soloing charges up and soars down the burning pavement. “Ultimate Freedom” changes things up a bit, as the beginning of the song is quieter and more reflective before it rips open. “Suddenly I am free,” Davis declares, as the guitars rise back up and give chase, the tempo swings back and forth, and eventually the power bleeds out. “Lone Wild” also pulls up on the reins, with Davis leading with singing that’s a little different than her usual raspy howl, and the track eventually getting louder. Acoustics settle in, letting things get calm, but then we’re back to bursts, with Davis admitting, “Maybe I’m just wasting my time,” as the quaking continues, the emotions push and pull, and the song comes to an abrupt finish. Closer “III” is an instrumental that’s glorious and steaming, with riffs piling on top of each other and the group taking you to a melodic surging conclusion.

Christian Mistress’ music may not be doing this on purpose, but it truly pays homage to metal’s roots, when you could drown in riffs and have a great time doing so. “To Your Death” is a little different than the band’s previous work, and it does take a bit more time to sink into your bloodstream. But once it takes its hold on you, you’ll want to be blowing down the same highways with the band, with dust and wind in your hair.

For more on the band, go here: http://christianmistress.blogspot.com/

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

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

After spending a decade engulfing the underground with their classic-tinged, churning death metal, Cruciamentum finally have a full-length record for you to hold in your hands. All that time, all the praise heaped upon them, and they are putting their decrepit money where their rotting mouths are with their debut long player “Charnel Passages.”

With all of the talk this band has generated, and the promise of one of the year’s most vital death metal releases from their label Profound Lore, there is a lot on the line. And holy hell, do Cruciamentum ever deliver the goods on this seven-track, nearly 45-minute album. Due to writing for a national magazine, where lead times are much shorter, I’ve had the luxury of immersing myself on this album for the past couple months, and from the first listen on, it has blistered my senses. Boatloads of riffs, furious growls, and sounds that basically echo the record’s title are what await, and sure enough, this is one of the year’s finest death releases. Much of that is in execution, where these guys are furious reapers, with a stranglehold on their style and approach to the music. Not only is it a brutal listen, it’s also dangerously infectious, with many of these parts etching their way into your head and carving their DNA in your brain.

The UK-based band planted their roots back in 2005 (though the lineup wasn’t solidified for several years), delivered a couple of well-received demos in 2008 and 2009, as well as teaming up with Vasaeleth for a split release in 2011. That same year, they put out their first EP “Engulfed in Desolation,” and then the band went into creative hibernation. But now four years later, the band—vocalist/guitarist D.L., guitarist R.C., bassist B.C., drummer D. B-H.—have put together a focused, fiery, massive release that was worth the wait. Drinking deep from the bloody streams created by bands such as Incantation, Cruciamentum continue mauling in the same repulsive way as the genre’s pioneers and should light the fires of anyone who pines for the true tenets of death metal.

The album opens with “The Conquered Sun (The Dying Light Beyond Morpheus Realms)” that has a frosty start before guitars tears open the sky and the riffs begin raining down. In fact, these are some of the stickiest, most memorable riffs on the record (they constantly run through my head), and provide a skull-crushing element to the song. The vocals are gruff and mean, while the drums are obliterated, and as melodies roil, murky synth arises, soloing blazes, and the raucous pace eventually fades away. “Necrophagous Communion” stomps heavily, with hellish growls terrifying and strong leads blinding. Parts of the song trudge in the mud, while other have a mystical glow to them all while boiling in blood. The final moments strike suddenly, with the tempo racing hard, and then the thing ends abruptly. “Tongues of Nightshade” has guitar squeals and squalls, with the pace again bringing thunder and the growls conveying rage. The band thrashes viciously, with the vocals getting screamier, and the guitars tearing out your guts. “Rites to the Abduction of Essence” has a foggy, doomy introduction before the band starts chugging and the vocals take a turn for the nasty. Dark shadowy keys lurk beneath the terror, while mystical gasps and punishing bursts fade into the mist.

“Piety Carved From Flesh” tears open immediately, while guitars rampage massively and humid melodies take over. The pace is just relentless, with the growls destroying and the lead guitars hitting a spiral. The band mashes over and over before the track grinds to a sudden halt. “Dissolution of the Moral Perception” has chilling synth spilling over, and then riffs blast out of that to a tempered pace that leads into a dizzying assault. The entire scene is carnage, as the drums are demolished and the guitar work splatters over top. The track turns gut wrenching, but later the lead work becomes exploratory and cosmic, the path gets muddy, and crazed wails lead you out. Closer “Collapse” takes its time to build, but when it hits its peak, it starts to grind and churn. The song continually gets wilder, incinerating what’s in front of it but then getting weirdly playful and adventurous. But then the track catches fire again, the growls and howls sound almost spoken, a bizarre cloud hangs overhead, and all elements slowly trickle away, leaving you thoroughly punished.

Cruciamentum’s true arrival may have taken some time, but now that they’re here, it’s time for skulls to be crushed and the hellish put that is classic death metal to swallow up the pretenders. All of the praise showered on this band was well worth it and were not wasted words. They may not be rewriting death metal on “Charnel Passages,” but they are reminding people of the way this music is played, which is deadly, massively, and with razor-sharp precision.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cruciamentum/285239791946

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

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

The world seems to be at a weird point. Look at the way people treat others with differing views than theirs. In our country, people looking to run the place even have taken stands against people whose lifestyles differ from theirs, and people have taken a backseat to weaponry when it comes to pecking order of people’s concerns. It feels like the beginning of the end, and maybe it is.

Maybe it’s a bit over the top to say it feels like the world is crumbling apart. A lot of what I listed above only affects one country, so maybe that’s being a little narrow-sighted, but it seems like tensions are building. That brings us to Ancient Altar’s new record “Dead Earth,” a loose concept record that envisions a world torn apart by corruption, greedy leaders, war, and the oppression of religion. Funny, but all of the things they tackle on this massive four-track mammoth are hot topics right now, and they are things that are dividing us against one another. Ancient Altar’s vision eventually has a degree of positivity to it, but it’s not until damaging, disastrous events take place in order to give the world a new start. It’s scary to think about because it just might be what it takes.

Ancient Altar only have been a band for two years now, but they’re already got two full-length records to their credit. Their self-titled first record dropped last July, and already they’re back with a whole new collection. The band—bassist/vocalist Scott Carlson, guitarist/vocalist Barry Kavener, guitarist Jesse Boldt, and drummer Etay Levy—have a nasty, punishing blend of doom that is unquestionably heavy and can be abrasive. At times, their stampeding can remind on High on Fire, but they also have some mind-numbing and scorched-earth elements that keep you awake, alert, and looking for the next burst.

“Leader, Liar” has a pretty pointed title, and it shouldn’t be too hard to read into who’s being ground into the coals here. Whirs and drone wash in and create a fury, while the guitars rampage everywhere, with the doom hammers dropping hard. The vocal delivery is thick and gruff, as the band trudges forward like they’re coming to challenge the forces of evil, and the screaming really starts to stretch out just as the guitars heat up and burn anew. There are some clean vocal callouts that deliver desperation, while the back end of the song speeds up and rages to a finish. “Albion” starts soaring, with the guitars taking on a sun-caked feel and the growls wrenching forcefully. Some classic metal moments slip in, injecting glory before the carnage returns. Organs then flood the scene, as a psychedelic trip takes hold, and as the song winds down, the wails churn and the track ends in a smothering cloud of smoke.

The title cut opens gurgling and wailing away, with the growling reaching deep inside for its venom and doomy thrashing leading the way. The track then reaches hyperdrive, pouring devastation in blinding order and the tempo creating mental grease fires. The riffs are meaty and noxious, and this awesome track never relents with its fiery intensity. Crushing 12:49 closer “Void” opens with buzzing riffs dive bombing you and the vocals delivering blistering thunder. Clean singing emerges, snaking over desert-dry melodies that eventually writhe in the scorching sun, but then the pace changes and the terrain gets dusty and gritty. Acoustic guitars slip in, giving the track a rustic bend, yet out of that the guitars blow down the doors and quiver with the melodies. The vocals crush bodies, slow-driving madness eats away at your psyche, and the track comes to a bludgeoning, punishing conclusion.

Hopefully people get their shit together and don’t bring about the end of the world, but if they do, perhaps Ancient Altar’s tales will give us some kind of idea of what we’d face. Doomsday scenarios have been a part of metal for years, but “Dead Earth” is a tale that’s far more tangible because it really could happen. It’s a mucky, drubbing, savage portrait, and despite its morbid imagery, it’s a hellish tale that will provide a burning rush with every visit.

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

To buy the album (vinyl), go here: http://blackvoodoorecords.myminto.com/product/ancient-altar.aspx

Or here (cassette, coming soon): http://midniteclv.storenvy.com/

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

And here: https://www.facebook.com/midnitecollective

I unabashedly love doom metal. You have to do a hell of a lot wrong for me to not at least give you a fighting chance. Not that there isn’t a lot of sub-par doom out there because, whoa boy, there is a ton of that. My inbox is swelling with the stuff. But when you stumble upon something extra tasty? Yeah, that’s a damn good day indeed.

That just happened recently when I tore into a record from a new force out of the Netherlands called The Spirit Cabinet. This is the stuff that pays honor to the old gods, something that should light the heart fires of those who worship at the altar of Sabbath, Candlemass, Solitude Aeternus, St. Vitus, you name it. From the opening salvo of their debut record “Hystero Epileptic Possessed” I could feel it. There was a special quality to this band, as it was clear these guys were tapping into something genuine and dark. Over the course of the six songs, that essence only grew stronger. The album is perfectly dosed, played quite well but with a raw energy, and is a damn good find for anyone who wants something that drinks from doom’s original roots.

The members of this band have a history together in other places (three of the member are former or current parts of Zwartketterij) and have forged a new pact here as The Spirit Cabinet. This group—vocalist Snake McRuffkin, guitarist Johnny Hällström, bassist Erich Vilsmeier, drummer Cromwell Fleedwood—have a command on riffs, as they are plentiful on this record, and the vocals mostly are a bellowing clean, with some grimy growls thrown in for good measure. It’s a damn satisfying record, and it’s another rock-solid entry from Van, who are knocking the hell out of us this year.

The album gets off to a raucous start on “The Black Lodge,” as the song rips wide open with riffs piling up in mountainous supply and the vocals just commanding. There’s a bit of grit to the singing, which makes this feel nasty, and the traditional doom waves rise up and knock you backward, with no choice to submit to nature. The power keeps smearing through the body of the song, with the guitars spilling forth every ounce of magic they can muster. “Credulity” has a slow-burning pace, with the singing coming in strong and confident, and the assault taking its damn time. But then things kick up, some screams enter the fray, and we hit more aggressive, mud-filled waters that dominate until the cool, mid-paced conclusion. The band even has a song named after themselves, and that one opens with a catchy waves of “ah-ah-ahhhhhhs” that are fun, and later a strong burst of guitars start chewing. Shrieks are mixed into the singing, as a riveting chorus gives the track another dose of energy, and the final minutes go back and forth from Maiden-style gallop to filthy thrashing.

“Hexenhaus” have guitars rumbling hard, with the music changing paces and faces over the first stretch. Here is really where those Candlemass comparisons can be felt, and I mean that in a really positive way, as the song charges and then heads into mystical waters. The vocals again mix between violent and majestic, as the guitars light the torches and burn their way to the end. “Ramakrishna” is immediately rougher and gruffer, especially vocally, with the music balancing fury and fantasy ideally. The singing takes on a storyteller feel, as McRuffkin later repeats the title over and over, proving easy fodder for audience sing-back in a live setting. Great track. Closer “Convulsions” bursts at the seams, with more riffs being delivered by the truckload. The vocals actually pull back a little bit, which lets the music have more of the spotlight, though later some shrieks tear a hole in everything. The track does a great job killing and maiming, as melodies rip forth and the song has a fitting fade out, leaving you gasping for air.

The Spirit Cabinet certainly do old-school doom metal great honors, and this new union is one that does a fine job standing out as special on their debut “Hystero Epileptic Possessed.” Any time a new band can come along and capture the true spirit and essence of this sound on record one is a bonus, and where they go from here is entirely up to them. No doubt darkness is ahead, as well as a great amount of killer riffs, and if anyone can complain about that, I’m sure you can find your way out.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.van-records.de/

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