Deep space is both an exciting and terrifying place to think about. On one hand, what is out there, and can we find life similar to, or even greater than ours? But on the other hand, what if you get trapped out there with nowhere to go and no hope of being saved? It’s a graveyard as terrifying and isolated as anything else in the galaxy.

Most likely no one will realize any of these realities in our lifetimes. That’s why we’re going to have to take that long, dark trip in our minds, and because of that, anything—horror or amazing discovery—is possible. Taking that sojourn along with us is Canadian atmospheric black metal duo Astral Path, whose debut album “An Oath to the Void” takes you on that icy adventure and helps you imagine any strange, alien terrain that comes your way. This music has its heaviness and savagery for sure, but so much of what they do floats through the Milky Way, past our galaxy, and into other, strange worlds that the duo creates with their interstellar sounds.

Astral Path only have been a band a little bit over a year now, having formed last January. The two forces here—guitarist/vocalist/drummer Justin Bourdeau and bassist/keyboardist Ana Dujakovic (Inviting End, Nightfall)—meld their sounds here perfectly, each bringing equal components of adventurous creativity to the mix. The goal for the band was to create a heady sound that pays homage to nature, the cosmos, and science, and it’s easy to imagine gazing into the night sky, identifying various star formations, and pointing to dots in the distance and imagining what might be going on there at that moment in time.

“Maroon Sea” begins the record with a long wooshing of keyboards, almost as if the track is lifting the traveler into the space capsule and getting ready for a long, serene trip. The guitars work their way in gently, at first chiming, then gazing, and finally hitting full explosion about halfway through the 10:05 run time. Melodic fury combines with wrenching cries, as the sing rumbles and burns and a gushing burst takes the song to its end. The title track follows, running 7:37 and heading into spiraling guitar work and a humid cloud of power. The shrieks cascade as the song’s bubble bursts, with melodies flooding, and dizzying playing igniting. Quiet waves slip in and out of the piece, and the final moments unleash a caterwaul of emotion and power, with growls hissing and the sounds fading.

“Between Appalachia and the Shield” runs just a second longer than its predecessor, and it starts in serenity, with the music swimming slowly, then harsh vocals and thick riffs entering the fray. The storming remains steady throughout the song, with guitars looping into the stars, wailing rushing over top, and a calming force taking over, leading the track to its end. “A Virulent Delusion” is the shortest song on the record and also the most dangerous. The pace is fast and mangling, an explosive burst of black metal that fires on all cylinders. The riffs are rich and dark, firing up and pushing aggressively and keeping things breathing fire. Closer “To Vega … Nebulous Anatomy” runs 10:48, with static and noise pulsing, a mid-tempo fog rising, and terrifying noise ripping apart the calm. The vocals sound like they could shred Bourdeau’s throat, with the track smothering before total silence arrives all of a sudden. That sits there for a stretch before a new electrical storm arrives, with blasts ripping, roars echoing, and everything slipping beyond this plane and into the next.

Astral Path’s adventure is just at its start, but what they’ve accomplished on “An Oath to the Void” is an exciting indication as to where this band could go in the future. Their grasp of the cosmos’ dark mysteries is imaginative and claustrophobic, and their soundtrack to what lies beyond could freeze you in your tracks. This record is perfect for a night when your personal chaos is high, and the only way to bring yourself back to life is by gazing into a deep ocean of stars.

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

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

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

It’s not really the time of the year for the dark and dreary, as most people in this part of the world look forward to brighter days and elevated moods. Everyone wants to be happy and rolling in sunshine and as far away from the oppressive late autumn and winter months as humanly possible.

All that is well and good, but personal darkness doesn’t exactly wash away with the seasons. Despite how wondrous things may feel and smell outside your doors, that doesn’t mean the heavy storms have subsided on the inside. For all of those people come Alaric, the dark punk bruisers from California who are back with their great second full-length “End of Mirrors,” their first since their debut offering five years ago. Their style is dark and brooding, with a deep sense of foreboding simmering beneath everything. It’s easy to envision dark afternoon skies, naked trees lining the skyline, and your body in a deep chill, unable to find comfort mentally or physically. Their music sounds like the embodiment of depression and agitation, a lashing out at what torments them in as aggressive a manner possible.

Alaric have been going since 2008 now, formed with the mission of creating dark and moody music much in the vein of Christian Death, Killing Joke, and bands of that ilk. Comprised of commanding vocalist Shane Baker, guitarist Russ Kent (also of Noothgrush), bassist Rick Jacobus, drummer Jason Willer, and sound artist Thomas Dimuzio, the band released a single in 2010, with their debut album landing a year later. They also were part of a really great split with Atriarch in 2012, with nothing else coming from the band since “End of Mirrors” arrived. This album, by the way, has two labels handling its release in various formats. Neurot Recordings is taking care of the CD and vinyl versions, while Sentient Ruin is putting out the music on cassette.

“Demon” kicks off the record, an 8:01 cut that sits in noisy interference and drone before the band launches into moody post-punk that’s utterly dreary. Guitars start to cut in, ramping up the doom (the latter moments are awash in Sabbath), while Baker layers a level of blackness over everything, fitting the cold, drizzling atmosphere perfectly. “Wreckage” strikes forward right away, with verses simmering in water, and the pace burning along. As the track winds down, the band suddenly hit a new gear, getting faster and nastier before the song ends in mesmerizing manner. “Mirrors” have the drums driving hard, chilling bass cutting a path, and guitars lighting up, even hitting on a weird shuffle at one point. Baker strikes an anxious note, wailing, “You told me don’t look in the mirror, because you’re shaking,” with the tempo punching and a thrashing, fiery end coming forth.

“Adore” has humid guitars and a slower movement, with Baker taunting, “I cut myself in two.” The track gets a little rougher and definitely has its punk edges, as everything goes off at one point, later piling into a long, psyche-fed jam. The drums blister, the song hypnotizes, and bells chime, leading the song away. “The Shrinking World” floods the senses, making your head spin, and filling the scene with paranoia. “The world is getting smaller and smaller,” Baker notes, and not in a warm way, and later worries, “I can see nowhere to go,” driving the scene into an ominous cloud. The title track is the shortest cut and most aggressive, trucking heavily through the sludge, with Baker accusing, “You’re fucked, you live like garbage,” as soloing scorches and the rest of the track scathes. Closer “Angel” feels like a foggy haze following a long rainfall, with the song bleeding and Baker pushing, “Dry your eyes and rise, you angels.” The song feels like an out-of-body experience in a way, with your head buzzing and reality seeming darker and harder to traverse.

The wait was worth it for new Alaric music, as this new record infuses a huge dose of darkness into the world, proving to those who fall closer to their type of mentality that it’s OK to embrace that side even when it’s bright and pleasant. This band always feels like an ashy cloud hanging overhead, dripping on you and causing you to shiver in your clothes. Drink in everything negative around you, and Alaric’s music will be a companion through your battle with hopeless waves.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Alaric-201671150715

To buy the album (CD or vinyl), go here: http://neurotrecordings.merchtable.com/

Or here (cassette): http://sentientruin.com/releases/alaric-end-of-mirrors

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

And here: http://sentientruin.com/

What’s more metal than swords, war, and Vikings? That’s the magic formula, if we’re being honest. Any combination of those three elements gets you pretty damn close to ticking all the boxes you need for an authentic metal album, and all three together is a mind explosion.

Sweden’s Grand Magus mash of that together on “Sword Songs,” a record emblazoned with artwork depicting an eagle flying with a sword in its talons, which really does let you know everything about the music contained inside. And really, if you’re even remotely aware of what the band has accomplished over nearly two decades together and seven records now, you’d be aware of their blood being pretty much 100 percent pure metal. How do their bodies survive? No idea. But they do, and with each passing year and new Grand Magus opus they prove they’re battle tested and ready to unleash glory that would please metal’s old gods and the new.

Grand Magus started in earnest in 1999 (granted, they operated under a different name for a few years before this), and right away it was obvious their mission of classic heavy metal mixed with a little doom already felt tried and true. While many Swedes at the time were dining from black and death metal tables, these guys were more than satisfied to feast on morsels left by Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Cirith Ungol, Candlemass, and bands of that ilk. On “Sword Songs,” the band—guitarist/vocalist JB Christoffersson, bassist Fox Skinner, and drummer Ludwig Witt—offer nine more tracks of the good stuff, stretching great riffs, soulful singing, and battle imagery over nearly 35 minutes, making for a perfectly served, awfully catchy presentation.

The record kicks off with “Freja’s Choice,” a song that chugs open and begins lighting the torches, with Christoffersson howling, “Falcon wings, forever soaring,” and paying homage to “blood-stained wings of war.” There are great dual leads that strike, and they begin to scorch down the home stretch, burning toward “Varangian.” There, winds begin to push, while tasty, Maiden-style guitar runs bleed in, all building toward a great, simple chorus of, “We are warriors, defenders of steel!” that should make you instantly pump fists toward the sky. There is more fun guitar interplay, along with the drums kicking up and driving the final chorus, before this crusher takes a bow. “Forged in Iron – Crowned in Steel” has some clever word play over the chorus. Yeah, any time someone wails, “Viking metal!” it sounds like another reference to Nordic warriors. But no, here we’re talking Viking swords forged of metal, turning the thing in another direction, and it’ll be a damn rousing one to sing back live. “Born for Battle (Black Dog of Broceliande)” reaches into Arthurian legend (or at least I assume it does), with battle chants cried, a more rock-style tempo unleashed, and punchy verses leading to crunchy choruses. The war anthem also is dashed with great soloing and a sweltering pace to hammer out the tale.

“Master of the Land” is hard and crunchy, with rhythmic drums pulsing, and the band building nicely to another massive chorus. They kind of have a knack for that, and it never gets old. “Last One to Fall” has Witt pummeling away to start before a Thin Lizzy-style riff kicks in, and the band starts to trudge ahead. “Marching on, you’ll be the last one to fall,” Christoffersson vows, as the band hits a high-energy gallop, driving up dust and chaos, before the reminder that, “Blood is the price of the brave.” “Frost & Fire” is the one lower point of the record. It’s not a bad song, really. It’s just not up to competing with what preceded it and what follows. But it’s fine enough as it is. “Hugr” is a quick instrumental with winds haunting, a clock ticking away, and steely guitar picking its way down the path. Closer “Every Day There’s a Battle to Fight” is a total curveball. I was expecting thunder and fury, but instead the song is more mid-tempo and introspective, a more sobering piece that urges bravery and reminds of the price attached to any battle. “Never let fear stand in your way,” Christoffersson urges in a deeper tone than usual, while the band keeps things even tempered but heavy nonetheless, bringing this record to a really surprising, but ultimately satisfying end.

The next time Grand Magus steer us wrong, it’ll be the first time. It’s a shame that being on such a big label like Nuclear Blast that they don’t get more of a push, because frankly, they’re one of the best bands on that entire roster. Trends will come and go, sounds will change, and allegiances will shift, but Grand Magus always will remain true to their sound and heavy metal as a whole. This band keeps making killer, easily digestible records, and it’s about time more people caught onto that.

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

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

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

This is a really great and interesting time to be a fan of metal. There is so much going on, a ton of experimentation, and a bunch of bands making this style of music something you can’t always predict. Yeah, there are a lot of groups grinding the same gears over and over, but who cares? They’ll get eaten alive in the metal version of the Gear Wars.

One of the bands that will be at the head of the table will be Phobocosm, the Canadian dark death metal band that’s become one of the frontrunners when it comes to who is keeping things fresh and inventive. Over two records now, their latest the mind-melting “Bringer of Drought,” the members have combined forces to make extreme sounds that stimulate your brain and get your nerve endings all worked up. Yeah, they probably could have just banded together and cranked out any old death metal album, and it probably would have ruled. But they’ve taken chances and poured a nice bit of weirdness into their sound, which takes them from really good to a band worth going out of your way to hear.

Phobocosm joined forced in 2008, vowing to bring together their visions for how they would warp the death metal world. The band finally released their full-length debut “Deprived” two years ago, first unleashing their strange wares into the world, and now they’re back with this four-track, 35-minute pounder that takes their sound and twists it like a pretzel. The band—vocalist/bassist Etienne Bayard (also of Vengeful), guitarists Samuel Dufour (Obsolete Mankind) and Robin Milley (Neuraxis), and drummer Jean-Sébastien Gagnon (also of Obsolete Mankind)—clearly are getting better and more innovative as time goes on, and each visit with this record is like taking a terrifying trip into the cosmos to face the great mysteries of beyond.

“Engulfing Dust” opens the record, running 7:49 with noise static rolling in, clean notes humming, and the track slowly coming to life. Once the trudging begins, a twinge of doom strikes, and the death-drenched growls lead the way, dragging you into the night. Melody slips underneath the murk, as the tempo hits a slow burn, and vocals begin a furious gurgle. Slow-driving death takes it from there, with the playing working to disorient anyone who crosses its path, and every element blending into toxic winds, with the final morbid notes bleeding off. “Tidal Scourge” is an 8:48 mauler, as it punishes right from the start, with the vocals blasting into the room, and muddy, lurching chaos arriving with the darkness. The track starts to unload heavily, pouring toxicity into the mix, and a slurry assault of guitars arrives and makes the room spin violently. The vox scar, the pace begins to bruise, and the track hits a slow boil, letting off steam and fury before the song bubbles away.

“Ordeal” spills in with ominous pounding and vocals blasting by. The band hits a grinding thrash mode, with the track pummeling away, and the song going into a guttural, ugly area, with guitars bending your spine. The rhythm section trudges away, while the vocals scrape, and the band hits total demolition. The final moments are ugly and smothering, paving the way for mammoth closer “Fallen” that runs a healthy 11:46. Clean guitars greet you, but don’t get too comfy as everything opens up suddenly and starts a downward spiral. The band keeps unloading cement block-thick fury, with the guitars bringing strangeness and dragging you into an electrical storm. The haze hangs there for a while, bringing humidity, and once the tempo kicks up again, it’s proggier and spacier. The drums erupt, while the song pushes harder, and as they build toward the finish, the band starts breathing fire. Your blood and bones are shaken together, while the world around you feels like it’s in full collapse, as you fade away along with the final bed of aggravated noise.

“Bringer of Drought” is the logical next step for Phobocosm as well as another great entry into dark death metal’s brave new world. This band keeps finding new ways to twist your insides and disorient you, and as long as they keep seeking those unexpected bends, they’re going to remain damn fun to follow into the future. These guys prove it’s possible to keep unearthing new ground and pushing the sounds they honor well beyond the stars.

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

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

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

I was at a show not long ago, and one particular band on the lineup, who admittedly seemed a little out of place, were not exactly embraced by the dude bros in attendance. From the meatheads there to see the headliners to the older heshers who only know one speed, there was a weird outpouring of scorn for a band that very well might have been the heaviest on the bill.

It probably won’t take you very long to figure out what band I’m talking about, but it seemed that their image, combined with the fact their songs have delicate, quiet moments, appear to be the source for the backlash. It was stupid. As metal has grown more than four decades old now, each end of the spectrum has stretched. There are bands getting as heavy and extreme as anyone else out there right now, but on the other side, the delicacy and beauty this genre can produce also has grown. There’s room enough for both, even within one’s own record collection, and the light very often does a fine job balancing the dark so there’s not oversaturation. That’s where an artist such as Sylvaine comes in, mixing plenty of beauty into a cauldron that still contains as good bit of lava.

Sylvaine, the project led by the vocalist/multi-instrumentalist of the same name, has returned with a second record “Wistful” that will add another solid entry into the bulging corner of post-metal, metalgaze, or whatever you want to call it. Most of her singing on the record is clean and lovely, but she also has a gravelly low end hiss as well, adding the proper amount of morbidity to the heavier stuff on this seven-track record. Along with her are guest musicians Stephen Shepard (drums), Coralie Louarnika (violins and violas), Thibault Guichard (cello), and some guy named Stéphane “Neige” Paut (drums) who practically invented this sound with Alcest, Amesoeurs, etc. It’s a really wondrous record, and it’s hitting all the right buttons with spring coming into full bloom here in America.

The record begins with 10:27 “Delusions” that begins with delicate singing over a quiet hum before guitars join the mix. The song floats in echoes before the power sets in, and great vocal melodies are unleashed. Gazey fire rains down, while dreary, foggy playing arrives, the song hits a crescendo, and the track trickles away. “Earthbound” is uptempo at the start, with the guitars charging and Sylvaine unleashing crushing shrieks. There are clean calls behind the madness, while things head into spacious territory, but then the tumult returns and begins to wrench. The vocals sound like tortured wails, while other textures are added to provide surprising shades to the darkness. “A Ghost Trapped in Limbo” heads back toward moody and even gothy terrain. Sylvaine’s singing drizzles, while the music makes it feel like you’re sitting during a foggy summer afternoon. The feeling is cold and drab, with the song fading into the mist. “Saudade” bubbles up, with solemn guitars reaching in and the singing conjuring personal darkness, as the melody snakes through and into the void.

“In the Wake of Moments Passed By” has proggy bass in its front end and punchy vocals that pierce the skin. Sylvaine’s growls are vicious and scathing, with the track rambling hard, and the storm taking a brief pause to let lighter rains fall down. There is a long, damp stretch that lets the clouds accumulate overhead before the guitars light up and burn, the growls sound feral, and the emotional high dissolves into a frosty gaze. “Like a Moth to a Flame” is, fittingly, quite wistful when it begins, with softer vocals spread over a slower song, and the pace taking its time to reach a middle point. From there, the song’s original melody returns as the piece sprawls and smears to an end. The closing title cut has guitars dripping in and the vocals floating over top like a spirit. The track is haunting and gets into your bloodstream, almost as if a group of souls are passing through and freezing your blood along the way. The strings hover, the woodsy ambiance arrests the senses, and the track fades into nothingness.

Embracing our more vulnerable sides is an honorable thing, proof we’re not just hiding behind bravado by proclaiming things must be all heavy, all the time. Sylvaine now have two worthy entries into the metal world that might bring a hushed tone to the chaos but still feel powerful as hell. Her might and passion are undeniable on “Wistful,” which helps her register heaviness in a totally different manner.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://shopusa.season-of-mist.com/

Or here: http://shop.season-of-mist.com/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.season-of-mist.com/

It’s not often these days that a band comes out of nowhere and really surprises me. I’m not trying to say I’m super smart or anything because, if you’ve ever read this site, you know that I’m not. Instead that surprise comes from being a writer who is inundated with music and bands on a daily basis that when one really sneaks up on you, it can knock you for a loop.

I had that with Italian doom band Messa and their debut album “Belfry.” This 10-track offering has so much going for it, from smoking drone, to trudging stoner vibes, to pure doom stomping that every track along the way provides a nice new surprise. I’m kind of shocked that Messa’s name never came up before in my daily travels, but it’s nice to be surprised now and again. I definitely was with this record. Just from my own personal music tastes, especially when it comes to heaviness, there’s so much in which to indulge on “Belfry.” If you’re down with bands including Christian Mistress, Windhand, High on Fire, and groups of that nature, chances are Messa are going to wake you up from your stupor.

Messa have been doing their thing for the past two years now, emerging at the dawning of 2014 with guitarist/bassist Mark Sade (Sultan Bathery, the Sade) joining forces with vocalist Sara (who plays bass in decidedly deathier Restos Humanos) and putting their dark minds together to dream up a new path through doom (they call is “scarlet doom”). They later were joined by lead guitarist Alberto (Incolti, Douge) and drummer Mistyr (Nox Interitus) to round up the lineup and start driving toward what would be this great debut record “Belfry.” It’s not necessarily that Messa are going to revolutionize doom, as that’s nearly impossible at this state. But they’re a damn strong entry to the mix and provide some spark and strength to the style, and that certainly is much needed.

The record starts with instrumental “Alba,” a quick burst of drone almost as if it emanated from Sunn 0)))’s exhaust pipes, and that lurches its way toward “Babalon” and its doomy swagger that meets you at the front gates. Psychedelic winds begin to waft, with the pace punishing and Sara’s vocals sweltering with life as she wails, “Oh Lord, it’s a new dawn rising,” almost as if she’s referring to the magic they’re creating. The soloing catches fire and causes blinding flashes, while the tempo sizzles, switches suddenly, and then bleeds away. “Fara” is another quick instrumental, built with quiet guitars, subtle fuzz, and melody that later trickles in and heads into “Hour of the Wolf.” There, the guitars tremble, with bluesy guitar licks, and Sara warning, “I believe them to be demons, they engulf my soul.” The track then hits another gear, as the playing trudges, Sara’s raspy singing sounds a bit like Fiona Apple, and the cut comes to a furious end. “Blood” spreads over 10:25, opening with guitars jangling, and the band slipping into a sludgy groove. The pace simmers dangerously, with the guitars threatening before things calm, and clarinets and sax infuse added soul. There is a long psychedelic sweat section that stretches out, before the song gets burly again and the final moments get in some final bruising.

“Tomba” is another quick instrumental to bring the mood back down, with quiet ticking, noise hovering, and a siren-like effect that tears toward “New Horns” that gets off to a stampeding start. Sara’s vocals are powerful as hell here, with the song punching hard and a strong force establishing its presence along with the sinewy guitars. Sara begins to speak as the guitars churn, and of out of that comes a noise glaze that spreads over everything before the pace kicks up again and blasts to a close. “Bell Tower” is the final instrumental interlude, with weird sounds and eerie fluttering ruptured by the strange bells chiming in the distance. “Outermost” then comes in and ruptures the uneasy serenity, with volume piercing and the doom hammers unloaded. The vocals have a humid, sultry feel, while the rest of the song is meaty and thick. “You are the temple that’s falling down,” Sara insists, as the guitars erupt, the band goes down a bluesy, psychedelic path, and the rest of the song melts into the ground. Closer “Confess” likely would make Windhand and Dorthia Cottrell smile, as it’s a dark, acoustic-led track where Sara’s vocals are the primary tool, but the evil blues, haunting and dusty ambiance, and stripped-back emotion drive this home like a stake to the chest.

With “Belfry” being Messa’s first entry into the world, it’s pretty safe to stay they’ve gotten off to a strong start and should open eyes and ears with this great record. They have the intensity and creativity that should carry them a long way, and once more people catch onto this record, they should have no problem building a following. It’s nice to have new doom band emerging that can get the juices flowing, as “Belfry” is a beast flying way under the radar that could strike at any time.

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

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

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

There’s an orange lunatic on the loose who keeps promising to make America great again. I have no idea what that means, to be honest. But I don’t hear a lot of people going around proclaiming to make death metal great again probably because the sub-genre, much like America, has enough good stuff going on to help counter the heap of shittiness.

But if there were bands that would come forward to vow to strengthen death’s gates, one of those would have to be UK maulers Grave Miasma, easily in the handful of the finest bands of their ilk going today. The group has been turning their gears for the past decade now, and three years ago, they put out one of 2013’s best slabs of death with debut full-length “Odori Sepulcrorum” (our No. 6 album of that year, by the way). It was smeared with old-school death and doom sentiment, almost as if the glossy death that blocks up shirts worn by Hot Topic kids never happened. Ah, if only that was true.

Now on their new EP “Endless Pilgrimage” (their third EP), the band returns with some interesting and mystical twists to their guttural approach. There is a Middle Eastern-style flourish to some of the songs, and their path feels more crooked—satisfyingly so—than what they’ve been doing. It’s a strong offering that seems to promise an intriguing future for the band—guitarist/vocalist Y, guitarist R, bassist A, and drummer D. Over this five-track, 33-minute offering (nearly full-length territory), they keep brains spinning and their ferocious death fire-breathing, putting to ash anyone standing before them.

“Yama Transforms to Afterlife” gives the first dose of new Grave Miasma and the initial increased spices in their music. Sitars spill into the atmosphere and swirl about, disarming you before the track bursts to life. Guttural growls do their bruising, while the music gets dark and doom-infested before the sitars return. Chants emerge, making it feel like you’re being transferred to another plane, while crazed cries and grinding violence bring the song to a close. “Utterance of the Foulest Spirit” starts on a clean path before its guts are torn out, and feral roars arrive. The tempo hits a wilting boil before the playing speeds up and rumbles heavily. Weird atmospherics arrive, with odd colors drizzling, and it continues to challenge your mind. Soloing catches fire and scorches, with the track coming to a crushing finish.

“Purgative Circumvolution” tears Grave Miasma into new, more ferocious territory, as the band goes off, assaulting the sense with a flurry of blows. The growls are delivered wildly, while the world you thought you knew is ripped to shreds. The riffs hit tornadic highs as they mete out complete devastation and chew you alive. “Glorification of the Impure” is a track they revisit from their Goat Mölestor days (it originally appeared on their “Ancient Barbaric Assault” demo from 2003), and the track digs up the crazed chaos, splattering guitars, and charred growls, with the track steamrolling forward and the guitars giving off morbid heat. Closer “Full Moon Dawn” runs a healthy 8:44, and it greets with sounds wooshing and guitars igniting, with the vocals coming in unhinged waves. The track is a mangler, with chunky trashing at some corners, full-blowing trucking death at others. The fire grows in intensity down through the song’s final moments, blowing you back before the nightmare fades away.

Bands such as Grave Miasma are here to keep us hopeful that death metal always will have decaying tentacles that keep the style ugly, furious, and destructively played. Hopefully “Endless Pilgrimage” is a hint toward a larger package coming from the band in the future, and if this is the type of thing we can expect, the anticipation will be thick.

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

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

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