Photo by Niela Von Till

There are those within metal’s circles whose resumes cannot, and should not, be questioned. Steve Von Till is one of those people, as he has built ample credit and benefit of the doubt being one of the leaders of the great Neurosis, as well as his solo work and other projects in which he’s been involved.

We haven’t heard from Von Till’s Harvestman in seven years now, one of his most atmospheric and musically daring of all his projects, and one that sounds like it gets his head cleared and less chaotic artistic statements into his output. His new, fourth record under that moniker, “Music for Megaliths,” has arrived, and it’s the first full-length we’ve heard from this project since 2010’s “Trinity.” Von Till’s been awfully busy of late, what with Neurosis’ latest album landing last year, touring surrounding that taking up his time, and even delivering another solo outing “A Life Unto Itself” in 2015. Yet here we are, with Von Till riches the past couple years, with another collection of Harvestman songs. This collection spends as much time in the wilderness as it does in the stars. It’s cosmic and rustic, dreamy and droning, and a collection of seven songs that gets inside your mind and intoxicate you. This is music for many settings, but perhaps the most fitting would be at night, gazing into an open, star-filled sky.

“The Forest Is Our Temple” begins the record with guitars jangling and quiet bagpipes wafting over the horizon as the song comes to life. Guitars begin to strike, as things get muddier, and as the mood heads deeper into the woods, accordions join in and add texture. Sunburnt haze burns, while noise like a plane engine hovers overhead, and all elements return and fade out. “Oak Drone” kicks the spacey feel into gear, as steely guitars cut in, and a mesmerizing haze spreads itself thick. The music burns and hovers, sheets of synth fall from the sky, and the track disintegrates. “Rings of Sentinels” has a weird feel to it at the outset, with strange beats thumping, and a psyche-rich flow chilling your brain. Strings create bubbling, while the noises yawn and send themselves to rest. “Cromlech” sounds like it would be a universal odyssey from its name, and that pays off, as cosmic synth pulsates, sounds float high above the earth like the space station, and a hypnotic edge has you staring into dimensions.

“Levitation” has warm beats tapping, humid guitar work stretching, and the charge pushing ahead. A woosh of synth settles over the air, and then smooth singing is situated behind the wall of sound, feeling like a transmission from a dream. Tranquility settles itself, making this feel like a deep dream state, as a gentle psyche lather foams under the cut, and the sound pulsates from ear to ear. Listen to this one on headphones for full impact. “Sundown” has a fit of heavy drone, like a thick black smoke sweeping over the land, and static charges that remind me of the old “Asteroids” Atari game. Quiet guitars arrive beneath noise stabs, and again, a wave of space synth sets in and brings mystery, and everything blows out into star dust. Closer “White Horse” has keys awakening and blaring, while guitars begin to sting. Von Till starts a steely monologue, noting, “The stones call to me just like they always have.” As he continues his dissertation, noise begins to spiral disturbingly, before the track dissolves into the ether.

It’s rare to have an artist such as Von Till, who can express himself in so many different styles and means, and Harvestman remains an inventive one. “Music for Megaliths” should have you dreaming for hours on end, wondering what’s going on as you see those strange celestial bodies millions of miles away from your own. This project might not visit us very regularly, but when it does, it’s a unique experience that sticks with you.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://neurotrecordings.merchtable.com/

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

Sovereign

We’ve been a little lax of late getting to some smaller releases that have come out, and for that, we cannot apologize enough. We tend to concentrate a lot on full-length releases around here, but let’s not forget some of the music that’s coming out that might not take up an hour of your life but still deserves to be heard and played repeatedly until you can’t hear a goddamn thing.

First up, we have “Spirit Warfare: Demo MMXVII, ” a new collection of three raw blasters from black metal beasts Sovereign that are sure to rip the muscle from your bones. We haven’t heard from the band since their killer 2014 full-length “Nailing Shut the Sacrosanct Orifice,” a colorfully named, brutally realized effort released by Broken Limbs that still devastates our senses to this day. These three new songs should satiate anyone pining for new stuff from this band, or anyone who wants a raw, black, evil dose of metal that doesn’t sound like it was processed in any way. There is pure terror wrapped into these songs, and the raw, unpolished nature of these tracks make them even more effective and should ramp up anyone’s excitement who gets to catch them on their tour of the Western U.S.

“Hammer of Fevered Light” rips the lid of this thing with static-laden guitars, huge melodies that get battered by noise, and ferocious growls that tear through bone. The leads continue to burn, while the vocals get smothered in the din, and then harsh madness takes over and punishes. The track keeps spiraling to its gruesome end, and then it’s on to “Diadem of Wound” and its blistering, rage-filled start. Creaky, echoey growls land, while the tempo rips away at the flesh, and then the soloing just goes off and demolishes. Static again floods the sense, mixing with the bloodshed, as everything grinds to a moaning halt. Closer “The Well of All Recalcitrance” has noisy, eerie guitars dripping, meeting up with a gazey, foggy flood that causes you to shield your eyes. The playing hangs threateningly in the air, as everything spills out and fades away. This is a crushing display that proves Sovereign are one of the most formidable black metal bands muddying the underground.

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

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

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

Second, we have a tremendous 7” split that’s kind of bittersweet. This two-song track combines the UK’s Caïna, who are bowing out with their contribution to this release, and Texas-based Cara Neir, one of the more exciting younger bands in extreme music, whose physical make-up remains under development. For Caïna and its main members Andy Curtis-Brignell (multi-instrumentalist, vocalist) and Laurence Taylor (co-vocalist), this has been a long, sprawling adventure for the band that covers seven full-length offerings (their last was the tremendous “Christ Clad in White Phosphorus” that landed last year) and many other smaller releases, and we’re pretty sad to see them go. As for Cara Neir, they’re still riding the wave of their thunderous fourth full-length “Perpetual Despair Is the Human Condition” that landed last year and further cemented their place as one of heavy music’s freshest, most inventive bands.

Caïna’s track “Rhosneigr” is a fucking volcano, which you might not guess right away when you hear the atmospheric start. But then the earth’s crust bursts open, and grimy guitars, militaristic drums, and utterly savage vocals tear out and destroy. The track trudges and crushes, seemingly getting heavier as the minutes tick by, and the vocals have an urgency behind them that don’t just hint they’re the last in the band’s history, but in each members’ lives. As the song goes, the guitars get dirtier and more massive, before everything bleeds into space. Cara Neir’s cut “Stained Grey Bones” has a black metal-style rush at the start that’s not unlike the band’s usual work but still feels awfully bloodthirsty. The vocals have a more hardcore edge to them, as the melodies whip into shape, and the band lays down some tremendous old school-style metallic glory that should get the blood pumping. Fluid leads, wild howls, and cement-thick bass make their presence felt as the cut winds to a close. This is a nice little package that might not be the longest record in the world but will beat your ass nonetheless.

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

For more on Cara Neir, go here: https://www.facebook.com/caraneir

To buy the album, go here: https://brokenlimbsrecordings.net/collections/all

For more on the label, go here: https://brokenlimbsrecordings.net/

Keeping a low profile is a rarity for a band. It pretty much is for a basic human as well, what with the age of social media exposing everyone’s lives. But keeping things under wraps and operating in the shadows is not an activity to be taken lightly, and it certainly can’t be an easy thing to do.

I say that because scouring the internet for more information on new Polish metal squad Saule is not super easy. There is information out there, but it’s pretty thin and doesn’t tell you a whole lot. The bio that accompanies their impressive self-titled debut record does hint that this is by design, as they would like their art to tell their tale, so this is what we have to go on. As I’ve said before about other bands trying this path, this approach actually is refreshing, and for someone who has a responsibility to find out as much as I can about bands before I start typing words about them, it is nice to just have to worry about the music and not much else. We do know that the band has been crafting the music found on these seven songs for a couple years now, finally landing on the proper lineup and approach to make these songs come to life. We don’t really know the lineup, we don’t have much on their intent, but this record, which blends post-rock, doom, black metal, and many other sounds into something that’s very much their own thing, stands on its own and away from many other contemporary bands.

Opener “I” has a clean, reflective start, with moody ambiance spreading its wings, and a voice calling from behind that wall. The music darkens and bleeds, with cries obscured, and the momentum building. Then the singing is more up front and gravelly as the song fades out. “II” has raspy singing and a foggy feel, stretching mysteries and ramping up the intensity. The playing is dark and inky before a hole is torn into the center of its body, and ferocious wails erupt. The earth shakes and rumbles hard, but then the pace gets watery and tranquil. That’s before a final push that has another huge burst before fading. “III” is the longest cut at 8:59 as noise quivers in the front end and quietly trickles before the song comes to life and begins to punish. The track is black and moody, sifting through occasional ruptures and the emotion splashing everywhere. Just as the mist gets thicker, the song hits its heaviest moments, getting sludgy, monstrously growly, and deeply penetrating.

“IV” is a quick instrumental that feels like an ambient dream, a tour through an infectious haze. “V” has a clean start as it bubbles like a stream before muddy power begins to level the place. The track is powerful and disruptive, with the guitars jangling and air rushing into the scene. Gazey fury saturates the ground, as the drums kick up and echo out. “VI” has a cool deathrock essence at the start, as whispers spiral through the mix, and the playing then begins to wrench. The most powerful singing on the record so far unleashes its power, while growls break up any sense of calm, and the music hovers overhead like an impenetrable fog. As the song rolls on, the pace splits back open again, savage growls draw blood, and the constant ebbs and flows rumble to the finish. Closer “0” spreads spacey noise and drone, as its fingers stretch out and pull the curtain back over and leads it into the darkness.

Saule’s first outing is an interesting one, a record that feels like it morphs with each listen. This self-titled debut is a piece that is hard to pin down, and it’s something that’s going to feel different to each listener. Heavy, riveting, and different, Saule prove that there are new ways to present sounds that are woven into metal’s DNA. You just have to know what the hell you’re doing.

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

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

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

Photo by Valnoir

It can be difficult to write these opening paragraphs when you don’t have a ton of information about the band you’re featuring nor the philosophical content behind the music that’s your focus. That doesn’t really matter all the time, especially if the music is engrossing, which today’s selection is.

Lithuanian post-black metal band Au-Dessus (that means “above”) is delivering their first full-length effort “End of Chapter,” which is an interesting title for a group’s initial outing. The record also starts with a track called “VI” and ends on “XII,” but that’s because the band’s musical story began with a self-titled mini record that was served up in 2015. That’s about all we have. This band is another shrouded bunch that operates in the shadows, and even their bio on their Facebook page is cloudy and confusing, leaving mostly everything to the imagination. Nonetheless, it’s not like we’re at a loss of content, because the music is meaty as fuck. The vocals are terrifying and the music is both pummeling and atmospheric. The band—vocalist/bassist Mantas, guitarists Simonas and Jokūbas, drummer Šarūnas—isn’t employing a new formula or anything, but their execution is strong, and this first record is one to pay your attention.

“V” starts the album, as noted, as vocals drone and the music cracks out from the sky. Harsh wails erupt as the music starts to crush, with a wrenching sense to the tempo and the music cascading. Clean singing joins the fray afterward, as it caps off this emotional onslaught. “VII” has guitars stinging as Mantas’ growls twist away at your guts. The storm then comes crashing to the ground, bringing with it a massive dose of power, strong black melodies, and wild screams that bring this track to an end. “VIII” is awash in murky chaos when it kicks off, as the vocals go from strangled growls to piercing shrieks. Guitars reign as the riffs charge heavily, and engorged growls then bleed toward a few moments of light. Guitars spiral as the shrieks peel the paint off the walls, with everything landing as ash after the fiery finish. “IX” is damaged and destructive as it starts, with the track ripped apart, and the chunky playing leaving bruises. Weird drone wails as the temp slows and mashes, with noise hanging like a cloud, and the final minutes wreaking havoc.

“X” is the longest cut at 9:39, as it trickles open to start before becoming completely engulfed. The vocals scrape while the band leans into soaring melodies, but later things get kind of gory. Muddy death chokes up the gears, delivering pain and misery, and then everything halts. Slowly the track reopens, with a long, spiraling section of guitars causing hypnosis and carrying all the way to the end. “XI” is weird and disorienting, with rubbery guitar work and gurgled growls. The band then launches a dizzying display, with the track getting thick and violent and then speeding up dangerously. The music keeps flooding, soaking the ground before turning into closer “XII.” There, Mantas’ cries agitate as the tempo throws stiff punches before things get tricky. Crazed howls and a pace that goes from frenzied chaos to clobbering trudging crushes, while the music boils and lets off steam. The final minutes are a combination of mauling and emotive, bringing the record to a scorching finish.

Au-Dessus have a mysterious essence and a strong approach to their art on “End of Chapter.” Their music is sweltering and full of different colors, and this is bound to be an album that reveals more of itself with each listen. Part of the tale might be ending with this first record, but as far as the band’s story, it’s really just begun.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.lesacteursdelombre.net/productions/v2/shop-3/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.lesacteursdelombre.net/productions/v2/

There are many aspects of human existence that so many of us cannot grasp. Those reasons can range anywhere from the unwillingness to stretch our thinking beyond what’s in front of us or the refusal to think that anything can exist beyond what’s in our immediate spaces. There are people on earth who don’t think there are life on any other planet but ours. Imagine thinking that rigidly.

“As We Were When We Were Not,” the debut full-length from Leeds-based band Mountains Crave, is one that forces you to think beyond your boundaries. After all, this band was inspired by the great Aldous Huxley and his lecture in 1962 based on visionary experiences, which allow one to use the imagination to great extents and perhaps see what’s ahead in our future. The band also leans into territories such as death, the afterlife, spiritual enlightenment, and humankind’s part in and sometimes disassociation with the universe as a whole. Just our world alone is a tiny speck, and often people can lose perspective of such a thing. But this band—vocalist Danny Heaton, guitarists Josh Danby and Mike Midgley (A Forest of Stars), bassist Ol Jessop (also of A Forest of Stars), drummer Rich Speakman—refuses to play to black metal’s standards and formulas, instead pushing their sound into spacier, stranger, sometime New Age-ish pockets in order to provide their own characteristics to the sound.

“Ynisvitrin” opens the record in a noise haze, with chants and calling seemingly coming out of a mist. The track then opens in earnest, with harsh cries that’ll make your blood turn, and playing that energizes your cells. Throat-mangling singing emerges as the band crushes heavily, with fluid playing flowing and carrying the song on its broad shoulders. Melodies lap over each other, as warm leads arrive and flow over the earth, and a final burst of savagery dissolves into a gazey flood. “Istigkeit (We Saw Them of Old)” has glorious melodies unfurling and welcoming you into the void, while harsh vocals and throat-buzzing singing take turns weaving the tales. Melodies gush from every corner, and even a brief reprise from the glowing fire is only temporary, as you’re pulled away to a charging, emotion-filled finish. “Clear Light of the Void” is the longest cut at 9:52, starting with a trickle of sound and a bit from Huxley’s speech before the storm really kicks into gear. The vocals rage over a daring, sometimes prog-fueled passage, while the track twists and turns through many personalities and chemical makeups. An angelic choral section sprays light before the song sparks up and trudges its way to the end.

“Arise O Magnificent Sun” has a huge opening, and then it starts to drive a little slower. The vocals scrape your sides, while the music spills downward, feeling mournful at times. The playing continues to let water into the room, rising dangerously, leading to guitars lighting up and the riffs showing the way out. The title cut is the shortest track on here, a mostly instrumental piece that flows gently, with a female-driven chorus adding beauty to the texture. The song has a spring-like feel to it (at least I think so), and it leads toward the 9:04 closer “Theophany.” The track has a destructive open, letting fire rage and shrapnel fly before melodies blast in and provide more color. The vocals push into the scene as the music swims in a gazey pool. Lurching growls bring you back to your senses, as the music swells and threatens overpour, clean singing rises, and the track has a gigantic emotional finish that should have you heaving for oxygen.

Mountains Crave provide many positives on “As We Were When We Were Not,” both of audio and philosophical nature. Their music is pounding but also expansive and daring, while their thematic content forces you to think and contemplate your very existence. This is an impressive, expressive serving of black metal, and its perfect state for absorption is with you staring into the chasm of stars, realizing you’re a microfiber in a much larger story.

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

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

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

Most music is really difficult to create. I’m pretty sure that’s true, anyway. Some bands toil away, create, destroy what results, and go back and do it again over and over. Some don’t make it out, and their lifespan is lost to time. Others refuse to call it quits, warping their creations and finding ways to emit darkness in a way that satisfies them, even if it estranges others.

“Dysangelium,” the debut record from Swedish death troops Ensnared, wasn’t exactly an overnight thing. The band went through myriad changes (they were called Gravehammer for the first five years of their existence), putting their music and psyches to the test and not giving up until they had an abomination of an album (in a good way!) worthy of their own hideous ways. And here we are, finally, with this vicious, 11-cut first offering that proves hard work and attention to detail can pay off in bloody spades. From the first bursts of this album, you can feel the true death metal spirit travelling through its sickened veins and into your mind. The band—guitarist/vocalist H.K., drummer J.K. (who both are original members), guitarist A.J., bassist A.E. (who both also play with Trial)—plays with vicious, reckless abandon, sounding like they’re coming for you with burning torches and red-splattered swords. The record, in fact, is so crushing that it has to be handled by two labels—the mighty Dark Descent here in the States and equally reliable Invictus Productions elsewhere. Also, there’s a guy dabbing on the cover. But that shouldn’t take away from your enjoyment of this beast.

The record has an interesting makeup as it is six full songs, broken up by five interludes in order to add to the environment. “Crushing the Meek of Heart” gets things grinding and bloody, as guitars bleed heavily, grim growls lead the song into the storm, and later when the pace slows, the playing remains utterly heavy and tornadic. The first interlude is punchy and thorny, with melodies rising, fading, and then charging anew and into “Gale of Maskim.” The track has a fiery start, with guitars assaulting and the vocals scraping at open wounds. The riffs are powerful and snake through the song, while the soloing goes off, and the band hits a black metal-style groove to make things even nastier. The second interlude has echoing drums and an eerie feel, leading toward “Antiprophet” that charges hard from the start. Growls splatter, while the pace exacts revenge for whatever transgression it turns its focus. Strange shouts that sound coated in reverb and the blistering pace kick up dust and chug massively through to the end. The third interlude then injects a spooky, psychedelic ambiance into the record’s DNA, cooling things off ever so briefly.

“Apostles of Dismay” brings a thunderous start complete with thumping bass and a surfy feel to the guitar work. The mission of the song is to tear open and destroy, which it does quite effectively, even taking time to mix in some cosmic madness and wiry punishment, as “Apostles of dismay!” is shouted repeatedly. The fourth interlude is the coldest of them all, sliding through muck and toward “Impious Immance” and its punchy death burst. Speedy riffs and an old-school death feel dominate, while shouts of, “Prepare the sacrifice!” remind that danger lurks and won’t stop until its needs are satisfied. The soloing blazes, while the song comes to a smashing end. The final interlude has noise echoing off the walls and guitars trickling, opening the door for the title track that causes heads to spin right from the start. The drums create demolition, while the guitars whip up a cyclone of pain that blows down anything in its way. The song has its melodic runs and catchy breaks, but for the most part, we’re treated mesmerizing, painful hammering that doesn’t let up until the song does.

Ensnared’s debut may have taken a while to see the disgusting light of day, but now that “Dysangelium” is here, their momentum cannot be stopped by any force but their own. This is a violent, sudden demonstration of death metal that should satisfy those of us who have a tough time finding genuine bands who don’t give a fuck about sounding pristine. These guys only care about taking out as many useless souls as they can as fast as they can do it.

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

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

Or here: https://invictusproductions.net/shop/

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

And here: https://invictusproductions.net/

Most bands make records. Others seem to make movies or major productions that go above and beyond putting on an album and digesting music. Alexander von Meilenwald is one of those artists who use his records as a means to go beyond mere black metal and into the scariest reaches of the past and his own mind as a creator.

His project The Ruins of Beverast long has stretched past being an ordinary band. Each time out, von Meilenwald puts you through an experience you can’t get with other bands. Last time he delivered a full-length opus, it was 2013’s “Blood Vaults – The Blazing Gospel of Heinrich Kramer,” a piece about the German inquisitor who spearheaded the extermination of witches and witchcraft in the 1400s. Now, he’s back with another head-pushing piece “Exuvia,” a 67-minute record that takes its name from the shed exoskeleton left behind by many earthly creatures after moulting. But the record also takes this concept a little further, imagining the music as a lethal bacteria designed to infiltrate mindless beings and call forth a cleansing spirit from nature itself. It’s a little less of a story or exposé and more of a cry to have the pestilent nature in which we’re ensconced be cured. The music itself sounds darkly spiritual at times, with the tribal-style chants and the machine-like droning stretches, but it also delivers absolute demolition. We’re come to expect that from Ruins, and this album delivers.

The title track starts things, a 15:27 mauler that starts with strange chants and cold guitars before wild growls join the fray, and a stormy assault spirals into the void. Weird calling goes on behind the wall of sound, while hypnotic playing captures your mind and drives you toward a cleaner portion. Warm soloing arrives, while operatic calls and the track’s ever-flowing spine stretch and haunt until the end. “Surtur Barbaar Maritime” is scary and leans toward goth melodies before pushing open and making way for creaky growls. Weirdness dominates, as usual, as wild howls and complete chaos do battle before the track goes colder. Things fire up again later, while fiery growls and a mesmerizing outro increase the hypnosis. “Maere (On a Stillbirth’s Tomb)” sounds like a horror show from the start, as clean guitars snake their way through, and slow, grinding death chews at the flesh. There are some strange progressions here, as well as a deep dip into psychedelics, before the ferocity makes a return, and the track feels like it’s pushing through a mist. Gothy guitars re-emerge, as the song bleeds into its corrosive finish.

“The Pythia’s Pale Wolves” is another epic at 14:34, as dissonant sounds and cloudy bagpipes give things a post-Apocalyptic feel. Detached singing and odd melodies combine, while industrial-friendly noise strikes and coats the scene with soot. The track ramps up and adds blood and concrete to its assault, while a female voice calls over the din, making things seem a bit like early Celtic Frost. Animalistic shrieks then tear out of their corner, while gritty playing, beastly roars, and a static storm make up the terrifying final minutes. “Towards Malakia” is tribal and spiritual at first, as heavy trippiness becomes a main ingredient of the song. The track sprawls and hulks along, with mystical melodies and abrasive growls penetrating and punishing. Warbling singing folds into the piece, as trancey melodies and chants take the song to its end. Closer “Takitum Tootem! (Trance)” plays like the strange cousin from the “Takitum” EP released late last year. The guitars are hazy, while the growls dig deep into the earth and swim through the molten core. Scary-sounding synth, a wave of chants, and spacey strangeness hover over and disappear along with the song, leaving you enveloped in your dreams.

Von Meilenwald’s art continues to devastate and prod the soul and mind, which “Exuvia” nails completely. This band has stood out from most of black metal’s cesspool from the start, and nearly 15 years after this project started, it keeps challenging and digging up the darkest elements of life and society. This album is an experience in and of itself, and you’re going to need to devote time and thought to what you just witnessed when the music finally relents.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/The-Ruins-Of-Beverast-116265971848680

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

For more on the label, go here: https://www.van-records.de/