Darkness can come to us in many forms, and that is especially true when it comes to music. Foreboding sentiments, grief, and sorrow can take on different weights and shades, and depending on the artist and situation, you either can be overwhelmed with heaviness or overcome with emotion. Both ways work, and each are welcome at doom’s ever-growing table.

When it comes to UK artist Jayn H. Wissenberg, who helms the shadowy project Darkher, she tends to lean more toward delicacy and ghostliness to express what’s going on inside of her. She debuted with this concept on 2014’s arresting first EP “The Kingdom Field,” which remains a personal go-to recording, and now is back with her captivating debut full-length “Realms.” Over these nine tracks, Wissenberg takes the haunting promise she showed on her first EP and stretches that into a fuller vision. The record goes down so smoothly despite its thick emotions and seeming transcendence into another world entirely. You’ll slip right into those visions, visit her dark dreams, and take on the very tumult and chaos that led her to create this record. With the autumn not very far off, this music is going to sound perfect when the air is chilled, the ground is damp, and the remnants of summer are in the midst of decay.

“Spirit Walker” starts the record as a brief introduction, with eerie noises and a murky soundscape that spills into “Hollow Veil,” where the guitar work starts to prick at your skin. Wissenberg’s singing reminds of PJ Harvey’s more dangerous work, as she calls out, “My heart forever bleeds,” with her ghostly calls fading out with the music. “Moths” is acoustically picked at the start, feeling chilly and rainy, and giving off an essence of vulnerability. “I want to live, not be afraid,” Wissenberg laments, as the power of the track picks up and drubs, and a dense fog arrives and obscures the visions. “Wars” lets guitars simmer and swell, with the drums kicking up and driving the tempo forcefully, and mesmerizing singing icing your brain. As the song goes on, it feels like doom is arriving, with angelic vocals swimming, and the playing driving through your heart. “The Dawn Brings a Saviour” is quiet and vulnerable, with rustic acoustics and sorrowful singing, as Wissenberg calls, “Don’t say you’re never coming back.”

“Buried Part 1” has cellos cutting through like a saw dividing the soul, as soft singing spills in and helps the track blend into “Buried Part 2,” where the guitars start to jostle awake. Thick strings bring gothic drama, with doom-rich guitars dropping hammers, and the drama of the song spitting sparks. As the track goes on, the guitars get heavier, and the strings soar into the skies, leading right into “Foregone.” Evocative choral melodies and steely guitars set the stage, while Wissenberg demands, “Don’t fear anyone’s name,” amid a noir-rich atmosphere. The track heads into heavy, burly terrain, while the soundscape rises and falls and eventually is absorbed back into the earth. Closer “Lament” begins as noises hover overhead, with guitars spiraling and the strings stinging. “I long for the rain to keep on falling, let it wash all my tears to the ground,” Wissenberg sings solemnly, as the pace gains steam, gives off a mystifying fog, and disappears into the atmosphere.

Wissenberg’s amazing gift for expressing darkness is something to behold, and “Realms” is her official unfurling into the world. This record is intoxicating and spiritually limitless, and Wissenberg’s expressive voice and ashen charisma elevate these songs to an even higher level. She is one of the more gifted new artists opening new channels in the doom realm, and Darkher is a project that hasn’t even cracked the surface yet of what it’s truly capable of accomplishing.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://en.prophecy.de/pre-order-bundles/

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

As much as I love metal that bludgeons you and gets right at your center with a blow that robs you of your breath, or music that feels like a triumph of glory, I have a soft spot for records and bands that get inside me and make me feel like I’m separating from my body. It doesn’t often happen, but when it does, it’s an immersive, rewarding experience.

I had to stop listening to “Skuggflock,” the new record from Swedish black metal force Stilla, while I was at work or driving. There’s something about this record and its seven cuts that gets inside my head, makes it go numb, and transports me somewhere else. It’s always been that way for me with Stilla’s music, so they’ve always been a band in which I indulge when the time and mood are right. I’m planning on taking a trip soon during which I’ll have a lot of time to gaze into the beyond and repair my batteries, so “Skuggflock” seems like prime material to accompany me. But if I’m in the midst of doing something that demands my utmost attention, Stilla always get in the way of that, because my mind is diverted toward what they’ve created. That’s a good problem for me to have.

While only a band for the past five years, Stilla already have gifted us with three full-length efforts—2011 debut “Till stilla falla,” 2014’s immersive “Ensamhetens andar,” and now this new record. Combining the efforts of members of bands as varied and impressive as Bergraven (I know you three are doing nice things here, but new album, please!), Infernal Hellfire, Whirling, De Arma, and more, this band pools together what they’ve created elsewhere and pours it into this otherworldly puzzle. Here, we have A. Petterson on vocals, P. Stille on guitars, keyboards, and vocals, A. Vidhall on bass, and J. Marklund on drums, and they create a visceral, at times terrifying soundscape that is filled with atmosphere and chaos with a sense of prog-infused adventure that claims you for the entire ride.

The record opens with “Irrfärd,” a quick introductory piece built on cold guitars and melodies, raspy howls, and a mid-air boil that leads into “Vårens sista önskan” and its speedy assault. Melodies wrap around you while the gruff growls and raucous tempo do ample bruising. Synth stretches over top, with an orchestral sense blending into the song, and from there it heads into a dreamy, folkish territory. It’s not long before the band is trudging again, with the final moments amping up the drama. The title track is mystical and otherworldly at its start before it blows open and gets ugly and mangling. The song has some really catchy moments, as icy acoustics enter the fray, and the furious growls meet up with disorienting clean singing. From there, the track rips open again, as riffs rain down to bring a smothering end. “Till den som skall komma” opens with bloodrushing guitars and mountainous wails running head first into slurring melodies that bring the song to a sludgy pace. The storm returns, naturally, with organs pumping, drums putting holes in the floor, and a muddy, crushing finish.

“I tystnad vilar själen” takes a different bend, with a post-punk style to the music, and smooth singing driving the way. Later the track gets more aggressive, with the guitars slamming the gas pedal and burning hard, while the muck rears its head again and brings about a doomy aura. Chant-like vocals meet up with the steam, with the track blasting to a finish. “Av maran riden” has a grim, proggy first few moments, getting the emotions running in a different manner, with the scathing, eerie attack coming not far behind. The bass bends around corners, while the vocals lash out, splashes of cold push into the madness, and the guitars spiral into the cosmos. “Ett inre helvete – ett yttre helvete” closes the record with a calculated pace to start before more threatening elements unfold. The vocals push in as dramatic yells, with the guitar work mesmerizing and numbing your brain before an Opeth-like transition pops up. From there, warbled singing, a thick murk, and a serene melody capture you and return you back to your normal plane of existence.

Stilla remain one of black metal’s most mystifying, inventive bands, and “Skuggflock” is another mesmerizing chapter in their already impressive run together. This music deserves and demands to be digested as a whole, with no other distractions in the room, and you giving yourself to their mission, at least until the record runs out. It’s prime music for unfurling your mind and giving into whatever dimensions of existence are beyond your earthly reach.

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

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

Or here: http://store.nordvis.com/

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

And here: http://www.nordvis.com/

Every band has a story behind it, from how it formed, to the way the members gelled their respective talents together, to the meanings behind what they created in the first place. Sure, not every listener may care about what went into the bands they listen to, but those paths are as vital as the music itself.

For newly birthed traditional doom squadron Wretch, their formation was the result of tragedy and picking up the pieces that were left behind. You may know Karl Simon better from his days with gargantuan crunchers Gates of Slumber, a band as responsible as any modern-day act for bringing traditional roots back to the music. They had a strong run for about a decade and a half, releasing their final record “The Wretch” back in 2011. Since that time, tumult came home to roost, and the death of Simon’s longtime friend and partner in Gates of Slumber Jason McCash brought that group to its end. Surely it could have been easy for Simon to chalk up all of his past accomplishments and move onto other things in his life, but his heart lies where it does. Thus his musical rebirth as the vocalist/guitarist for Wretch, a band that does GoS’s legacy, and metal in general, a lot of good.

Any Gates of Slumber fan likely will fall right into place with what’s offered on the band’s seven-track, self-titled debut album. The only notable difference is there is less emphasis on fantasy elements and more delving into the horrors of the real world. The snarling doom of decades past remains, bolstered by Simon’s bellowing voice and smothering guitar playing, and anyone with a thirst for Black Sabbath, Saint Vitus, Cirith Ungol, Trouble, and bands of that ilk will find plenty to love on this record. Along with Simon in this band are bassist Bryce Clark and drummer Chris Gordon (who played with Gates of Slumber in the past), and this power trio mauls your senses over and over again, but also treats you with swaggering, bluesy doom that, when in the right hands, can be the finest form of heavy metal there is. These guys do it just right, which is clear from the get go on this album.

“Running Out of Days” kicks off the record with charged-up guitars, meaty riffs, and the band wasting no time to get rolling. Simon’s singing, as good as any in the doom category, start delivering welts, while the soloing rips out, sounding a lot like a 1980s “Headbangers Ball” staple. “Rest in Peace” has a smoky start, with Simon bellowing, “Set me free!” The verses are strong and contain plenty of sustenance, while the riffs deliver energy that sticks to your ribs, and the rhythm section makes your inner core rumble heavily. On the back end, a psychedelic haze rises up in which the song gets swallowed, and then it’s into instrumental cut “Bloodfinger,” which has a different vibe altogether. The track simmers at a middle pace, with this sounding like something mined from the middle of the 1990s, when the world was begging for something like this. The song ends in a fuzzy cloud, and then it bleeds into a cover of Judas Priest’s “Winter” from their “Rocka Rolla” album, a nice surprise and a track Wretch naturally covers with bluesy aplomb and crawling might.

Wretch keep us in the deep freeze with their own “Icebound,” a song built on buzzing riffs and a tempo hell bent to barrel into you. The guitar playing is tripped out, making your head go numb, while the strong verses and pace changes keep your blood flowing and you continually engaged. Later on, the band hits a speedy shuffle, crushing and powdering bones, and the soloing cuts through the center of everything, with pure Sabbath charm. The final moments bring the pace down, drubbing you senseless as the track bleeds away. “Grey Cast Mourning” is an instrumental with a very fitting title as it sounds exactly how it’s named. Solemn guitars and psyche-rich melodies drape over the thing, ending in a rainy mood. Closer “Drown” is bluesy as fuck when it starts, with the singing sounding waterlogged, as if you’re submerged and hearing these lines with full ears. “Waves that pull me under, I’m going to drown,” Simon laments, as fiery, warm guitars create a beacon of light, and the driving pace disappears under the black waves forever.

It’s great that Simon remains standing, fighting the good fight despite what’s been dealt to him in the past. He is one of doom’s mightiest warriors, and he and his new mates are the flexing muscle of that style of metal over these seven songs. The gates may be closed on Simon’s old band, but this new, fiery Wretch sounds like it’s ready to take over that mission and blaze it right into the future as slowly and brutally as they possibly can.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Wretch-469537983166326/

To buy the album, go here: https://bad-omen.backstreetmerch.com/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.bad-omen-records.com/

Metal is many things to many people, and it all depends on your frame of mind and personal journey to determine its impact in your life. It could be a way of feeling more powerful or energized, simply by riding the force of riffs. It might be that it’s something that gets you in touch with your darker side as you delve into fury and madness of the music. It also can be a means of catharsis.

For others, it can be a place of healing, a way of working through some of the toughest, most challenging days of your life when you feel like there’s very little on which to grasp your balance. For Nate Garrett, he found that very thing in his Spirit Adrift project, a source for which to pour his emotions, fears, and self into and to climb out of the hell in which he found himself. Garrett struggled with an addition to alcohol, nearly watching the problem consume his life, and his gift for music, and it took going through rehabilitation to find his way to the other side, and to Spirit Adrift. Now, with his life changing for the better and with so many creative ideas flowing through him, he crafted the project’s excellent debut EP “Behind – Beyond,” released earlier this year, and now the first full-length “Chained to Oblivion.” To say this is a triumph musically might sell short what it means to Garrett from a personal standpoint. But the fact that he’s thriving, and his music is pumping a different kind of blood into metal, is something to truly, fully celebrate.

Garrett first gained notoriety playing lead guitar for Take Over and Destroy (he announced his amicable departure from the band earlier this year) and even plays with Tucson-based death dealers Gatecreeper (full-length out on October on Relapse). But in Spirit Adrift, he seems to truly have found himself. Much of what you hear on “Chained to Oblivion” is situated in doom, but there also is a nice dose of old-school heavy metal. Also, Garrett eschews the common trappings of growls and shrieks, instead opting for his soulful, powerful singing voice. It’s another element that lets Spirit Adrift stand apart, and it helps Garrett infuse his message with even more emotion. Plus, he sings the fuck out of these songs, making his decision to go that route pay massive dividends. In another sign of growth for the band, Garrett also announced a full live lineup, as he’ll be joined by Jeff Owens on guitars and vocals, Christopher Croons on bass, and Marcus Bryant on drums.

“Psychic Tide” starts off the record with drums rumbling awake, a thick bassline cutting through the middle, and burly riffs making their way into the mix. Garrett’s powerful singing launches soon thereafter, wailing, “Close your eyes, try to believe what we’re doing is real,” with him building a nice verse-chorus structure that works really well. Soloing bleeds in, with leads going hot and cold, and the whole thing dissolves into militaristic drum beats and a total psyche out. “Marzanna” is doomy and rich from the start, with the pace plodding, and the playing trudging heavily. “Burning into winter, sanity in flames,” Garrett howls, with warm guitar work entering the fray, bringing a sorrowful glaze over top the thing, though seemingly warning that danger remains present. Rich melodies and rousing “ahhhh” calls carry the track to its final destination. “Force and Form” also pounds into the mud, with guitars spiraling and smoking, and the pace slipping into clean spots. “Friend, foe, stranger, questioning these forces, that’s all I’ve ever known,” Garrett calls, letting you swim through the potential layers of meaning in that line, with the cut coming to an abrupt end.

The 10:59-long title track initially floats in and then hangs in the air, with calming guitar lines boiling, and a sorrowful bloodletting unleashed. It’s tough not to get caught up in the tumult here and what Garrett is expressing, and just as you’re lulled into psychological paralysis, he ruptures you awake by unloading power. Strong soloing barrels through the song, as Garrett notes, “We have bled a river, drained ourselves together,” a line that very well could be directed right back at himself. The remainder goes through doomy terrain, lifts itself into dreamy, gazey skies, and rushes out on an emotional high note. The 11:09 closer “Hum of Our Existence” begins with tribal-style drumming, with psyche-rich guitar spilling into the scene, and a trippy aura unfurling itself. The song punches things out in a calculated manner, with Garrett wondering, “How many times can one thing die?” something I’m sure those of us with our own struggles have asked ourselves many times. As the track goes on, the menace lands, smothering and charging, setting the pace for the final explosion, with Garrett howling in defiance, “The raging storm before the dawn of man won’t ruin us again,” as the track burns away.

We’re thrilled that Garrett came out of his dark nightmare healthier and stronger, and Spirit Adrift seems to have him soaring through the metallic stratosphere. “Chained to Oblivion” is a powerful statement both musically and emotionally, and the songs burst into the room and capture you. Garrett used these songs and this band to move through his problems and prove he has far more to offer the world. If it can inspire one other person to do the same, that would make this a far greater statement than it just being a fantastic heavy metal album.

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

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

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

Every faith has its bizarre rituals that, if they arrived today, at this very moment, we’d write these people off as insane. Like, hey, I grew up Catholic, and we believe in actually devouring the flesh and blood of Jesus. That’s not weird? That’s not something that if, say, the Scientologists enacted today, most people wouldn’t be running to the social media machine to mock them?

With that in mind, one of the strangest and most dangerous rituals of modern times comes from our Pentecostal friends, who have embraced snake handling as a part of their faith. The practice isn’t widespread by any means, but for those congregations that observe it, these actions are seen as sacred and another step toward being that much closer to God (it is derived from myriad Biblical passages digested literally). Being that this practice hits close to home (regionally speaking) for Twilight Fauna’s Paul Ravenwood, he decided to make his entire new album “Fire of the Spirit” about the snake-handling ritual. He is quick to point out that he isn’t aligned with their faith, but this record isn’t done in criticism or mockery of their practice. In fact, there’s a level of respect in Ravenwood’s approach, examining what faith means to a person, no matter what that is, and investing yourself so deeply into something that you’re willing to risk death to express what you feel.

This also is one of Ravenwood’s strangest, sootiest releases to date under the Twilight Fauna banner. Yes, the melding of coal-smeared black metal and rustic-flavored folk remains, but the insertion of clips from services and believers, and the way the music is both emotional and marred by sound easily can impact your psyche. Ravenwood always has reached from his Appalachian Mountains surroundings for inspiration, and this time, he has honed in on one of the most dangerous and bafflingly weird (at least to outsiders) practices in any of the Christian faiths, which does make for some great subject matter for a metal record. We’re pretty wrapped up in serpent imagery, are we not?

“Walking With the Ghost” opens the record, the sixth Twilight Fauna full-length, as chatter from a congregation spills over, and acoustic fires are lit up, with whispers sliding underneath the melodies. Clean guitars join the mix, with the body of the song hypnotizing, and ghosts floating over the top. Harshness then arrives, with the growls buried in the dirt, as the cut hisses its last and fades away. “A Green Moth in the Mist” has guitars striking and flooding the scene with power, while hushed growls push through the wall of sound. Noise rises up and smears, with a static wall dragged before things turn grim. The fury spirals and surrounds you, with the music trickling away. “Laying out the Fleece” lets acoustics ring out, while more professions of faith arrive, and a bluegrass-style aura opens itself and brings you further into the picture. The track then bubbles up and flows, spreading serenity but also a weird sense of foreboding doom.

“Anointing Oil” has a woman talking about dying, while acoustics lift up the atmosphere, and chant-like singing emerges. Electric drone pulses take over, while melodies churn and scar, and the guitars that catch fire scrape away. Clean singing arrives on the back of softer guitars, leading the way into “Tongues of Knowledge.” There, a woman professes her faith, sounding like a true devotee, while the guitars drip black metal tar that coats the floor. The sounds wash over you, while the growls lurk beneath the din, and once the dark clouds finally begin the subside, quiet guitars chime away and hint at calm settles before the ugliness re-emerges and growls mar the surface. Closer “A Glass Dalia” opens with lonesome harmonica and acoustic guitars assuming the lead. Hushed singing is accompanied by the sounds of a preacher in the midst, with rattling and hissing noises make their mark (quite appropriately, might I add), and a Western psyche ambiance takes over and lets the song drain into the Earth.

Twilight Fauna’s catalog is one that truly stands by itself among the black metal community. Yes, Ravenwood uses common elements employed by many other artists, but he turns inward and exposes himself and the world he has grown to know as his primary inspirations. “Fire of the Spirit” is another journey into a world that may be foreign to many, and a practice that can send chills down your spine.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://fragilebranch.com/products/17404655-twilight-fauna-fire-of-the-spirit-lp

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

“I believe that history is a listing of atrocities and horror, not because we are evil, but because history itself is a kind of performance.” Those words are uttered by Kitap rol Keshmat, reluctant priest of the spider goddess in “The Dagger and the Coin” book series’ finale “The Spider’s War.” At this point, everyone in the series had been choked by war in Daniel Abraham’s tales, with humanity teetering on the edge of chaos if a sure-to-fail, haphazard plan can’t be enacted to stop those who would shed blood for power.

You don’t need to read the series to relate to the quote (though you read should read it immediately), as war has been a part of our DNA pretty much since the start. It’s only that we’ve pressed the gas pedal on escalation and have deadlier means of massacre than ever before. It was weird that I happened to read Kit’s line the same day I immersed myself in Feral Light’s debut EP “A Sound of Moving Shields” the very same day. Over these five songs, the band focuses on the subject of human annihilation during war, people being at the boot steps of militarism with no way of them being able to submit, and absolute corruption. It’s a stain on our history as people, and it’s one from which we never seem to learn.

The lyrical heaviness melds nicely with Feral Light’s metallic savagery, served on a bloody bed of black metal with a twist of melodic jolt added for good measure. The members of this band bring with them impressive resumes built with bands such as Wolvhammer, Embalm, Empires, Incarnate Deity and plenty others, and their crushing force is on full display over this effort. Comprised of vocalist Jeff Scheuermann, guitarist/bassist Andy Schoengrund, and drummer Andrew Reesen, the band splatters horrors over this 31-minute effort (nearly full-length territory!) that is being released in limited cassette by Sentient Ruin Laboratories, who consistently do an excellent job scouring the underground for fresh blood to release to their followers. This is another astute singing.

“Mercenary” has a grim opening, with blasts hammering forward, and morbidly catchy melodies colliding with creaky growls. The tempo manages to get nastier, with blackened vocals, massive thrashing, and swaggering riffs smearing, with guitars and howls racing toward the gates. “Hell By Compass” has a humid opening, storming ahead with gruff growls battering you. Later, the black fury erupts, with the tempo punching hard and chunky chorus adding to the bruising. The guitars blend in black metal menace, feeling like threatening thunder and lightning is on the horizon about to strike you into oblivion. “Baptized in Shellfire” has raw growls and a punishing assault, blasting everything apart and pushing the track into the smudge. A roll-n-roll-flavored battery machine unloads with power, with the riffs taking on a slight High on Fire aura, and the warfront charging over everything. “In Glorious Battle Slain” could not have been better named, with guitars stampeding, the war tale bursting through everything in its wake, and wails of, “Heroes and champions!” giving your chest some final bruising. Closer “Ultima Ration Regum” unloads right away, with the guitars slathering and the pace ripping up bones and flesh. There is melody infused into fire, with the growls scathing and your senses utterly bashed. There’s no room for calm or serenity, as the band lays waste and brings the song to a cataclysmic finish.

War is hell and, it seems, inevitable. The longer our existence lasts, the more humanity’s body count ticks upward, a fact that Feral Light bring to focus on “A Sound of Moving Shields.” Warnings never are heeded and blood continually shed, and at what cost? That we have bands such as Feral Light to poke at that wound is good for awareness, but at what point do we duck and cover ourselves for impact, our lives and those around us simply chalked up as another chess piece on the road to domination.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://sentientruin.com/releases/feral-light-a-sound-of-moving-shields

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

To the chagrin of a lot of “purists,” metal is a genre that can be stretched far and wide. It doesn’t have to sound any particular way, anyone can play it as long as they’re powerful enough, and the many new shades thrown into it has made this style even more enriching. I love brutal and mangling as much as the next person, but blasting off into new terrain can be just as enthralling.

That verbiage leads us into the coverage of a new record from Horseback called “Dead Ringers.” Long the project of Chapel Hill, N.C., musician Jenks Miller, we’ve witnessed Horseback go in all sorts of directions, mostly of the mysterious and ashy black metal way. But as time has gone on and Miller has immersed himself into different styles of music, Horseback has developed along with him. “Dead Ringers” is his most diverse, expansive collection ever, and it’s the furthest away from what most would consider pure heavy metal. But no matter because it’s a mesmerizing, hypnotic effort that claims you and twists you through this entire ride. It’s eight tracks of deep psychedelics, doom, and Miller’s most direct vocals ever, eschewing the low rumbling growl for actual singing that brings a new dimension into this band’s world. It’s different, but it’s quite interesting.

Over the years, Miller has helmed Horseback on his own and with other collaborators, twisted it to his psyche, and made it into one of metal’s more intriguing projects. Miller also plays guitar in traditional country band Mount Moriah (heavily recommended, if you’re not familiar), and some of his work there seems to bleed into moments of “Dead Ringers.” That’s a welcome addition, as it lends more texture and emotion to the music, and also hints at Miller’s own creative evolution. This record might take even the more hardcore Horseback fans a little time to fully digest, but once you do, you might find yourself returning again and again to take this intoxicating, mentally altering experience.

The record begins with “Modern Pull,” where weird keys assemble, guitars hum, and a psychedelic whir barrels into the mix. “The pleasure dome is waiting,” Miller sings ominously, while the guitars take on a Southern feel (remember when I mentioned Mount Moriah?), and synth and noise zap this closed. “Shape of the One Thing” has keys echoing and a trippy, sunburnt sense, where it feels like your head is starting to spin. The singing is strange here, with synth blurting, and Miller later poking, “We’ll keep repeating, it’s only for you,” with a twinge of Roger Waters edge to his delivery. “A Bolt From Blue” starts amid chimes, with the path going right through a dusty trail and the keys sounding like sirens. Surfy guitars bubble up, with the singing rolling gently, and the pace seeming unsettlingly strange. “The Cord Itself” packs spacey synth passages, static beats, and guitars stretching. A sorrowful organ lathers with tears, while guitars fire up, and a dialog that reminds of an Apocalyptic preacher snaps your attention and pulls you into the song’s closing sound bath.

“Lion Killer” lets keys smear, as a rhythmic pace drives right into a thick drone. “Fooled again,” Miller strikes, while the guitars punch back and swing into echoes, and the track later fades into a mysterious weirdness. “In and Out of Form” has guitars chugging, with Miller charging, “I change, but you don’t notice.” Well, musically, how could we not notice? Anyhow, the singing is smooth, interrupted here and there by hoots, and the song spends its time building a wall of intensity, bubbling up, spilling over, and letting guitars jab and sounds swell right to its finish. “Larkspur” is a really odd one amid a collection of strange cuts, with keys swirling the Milky Way, guitars taking on jittery and sometimes Bluegrass-fed melodies, and Miller talking away, almost as if he’s in the midst of a medicine-induced dream. Then the 16:40-long finale “Descended From the Crown” arrives, with unsettling noises, hippie-style guitar patterns, and a slew of racket situated behind everything. In the middle of all of this, the singing becomes a part of the puzzle, as beats kick up and then fade, weird jolts slice your flesh, and mind-erasing fog settles over everything. Guitars babble on like a fresh stream on its way to a new destination, and hazy soundwaves breeze into the final moments, where everything dissolves in a mid-air crash.

It sounds like a cliché to say this, but there’s no telling where Miller will take Horseback next, and that’s one of the reasons it’s so much fun to follow this project. “Dead Ringers” is a total excursion into deep space, with your brain submitting to whatever forces are spinning it and you enjoying every moment. It’s the biggest sudden curve of this band’s storied run and one that just might reshape the future of Horseback’s creativity.

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

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

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