Photo by Crystal Seth

Not that there’s ever a good time for it, but the hot months are the worst time for decay. When I was a kid, we lived near the woods, and a deer bit it somehow, and the stench carried over the neighborhood for days until the source was discovered. That scent is, like, imprinted in my brain and never will go away. In fact, let me go puke.

Where was I going with this? Oh, right, “Steeping Corporeal Mess,” the debut LP from Pacific Northwest-based death crawlers Fetid, who created a record that’ll stink even worse now that it’s hot and unforgiving here in the U.S. Every trip I’ve had with this has taken me back to those days when the disgusting deer corpse was rotting away, and all we could smell was death. These five tracks are perfectly encapsulated simply in the title of the record, as that’s exactly what this thing sounds like. It’s putrid, disgusting, and practically bubbling in blood and guts not-so-freshly drawn from its victim. Perfectly dosed over 32 minutes, the band—guitarist/vocalist Clyle Lindstrom, bassist Chelsea Loh, drummer/vocalist Jullian Rhea—unleashes the worst of the worst, doom-smeared death metal that’s often delivered torturously slowly but that also hits the gas now and again to ensure your stomach gets jerked around, and you get really nauseous.

“Reeking Within” gets us started amid noise chewing at your nerve endings and then a trudging wave of death going for your neck. Grim growls slither through the dirt while the track lurches along, with the pace leaving bruising. The bass then fires up and the band batters your senses, picking up speed later on and splintering bone, the growls devastating, and the track crushing to its final resting place. “Cranial Liquescent” has thick bass lines providing a foundation while the playing causes dizziness, and the growls boil in bodily fluid. The leads go off, while the screams pierce your ear drums, and then things slow down into humid doom. The area gets smudgy and feral as things re-open, the sludge makes your footing almost impossible, and the track levies its final punishment.

“Consumed Periphery” is utterly brutal, picking up thickened blood and then opening the gates to complete terror. The song goes off into speed and dirt, blinding you and leaving you struggling for corners as the leads soar and everything ends in a mess of discarded tissue. “Dripping Sub-tepidity” will have your head spinning at first, as the song is fast and smothering as it tries to bash in your skull. The bass playing begins to pile on, and then an insane assault breaks out with the leads catching fire and the vocals sinking its teeth into your flesh. The guitars spiral out of control, the playing stymies, and everything turns black. “Draped in What Was” ends the album with an extended intro complete with B-movie-style synth, almost like the opening credits are rolling. Then the doomy chaos emerges, as the track takes its time laying waste, destroying wills and crumbling the earth. Soot is smeared in mouths and faces while infernal growls utter their last, and the track ends in putridity.

Fetid’s arrival into death metal’s filthy ranks is a very welcome one, albeit one that’ll have your guts churning for weeks on end once you finish tangling with “Steeping Corporeal Mess.” This record is mean and nasty, with very little regard for pristine performance or spit shine, as they just go for the jugular and remove any sense of hope. This is that rotting body in the midday summer sun, providing a disgusting experience for everyone around it and making you want to cover your eyes, even though you know you can’t look away.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.20buckspin.com/fetid

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

The nighttime is the home of eeriness, the time when the strangest, most mysterious things happen as creatures lurk in the shadows. Storms are always equally comforting and frightening, as lightning dashes across darkened rooms, and thunder can yank you from your sleep. It’s always when we feel most vulnerable as well, fearing intruders or any spirits lurking in search of us.

No matter how long I’ve listened to Texas-based duo Pinkish Black, despite the amount of times I’ve visited to their records, I’m never able to shake the feeling that their music is a mysterious entity in the room waiting for me to let down my guard. Their chilling, alien keyboards and driving rhythms combine elements of doom, industrial, and synthwave, and immersing yourself in their music means leaving yourself prone to their flesh-crawling compositions that creep inside your bones and haunt you forever. The band’s darkly immersive fourth record “Concept Unification” reveals a more imaginative but also morbid version of the band that never lets you even touch comfort, much less know it intimately. The pairing of vocalist/keyboardist/synth player Daron Beck and drummer/synth player Jon Teague dig down for their darkest emotions and ideas and slowly weave them through these six tracks (eight if you buy it digitally) that chew on your nerve endings and leave you in a cold sweat.

The title cut opens the record by bleeding in under the door, synth sheets dropping, and sounds floating, as Beck’s voice feels detached from reality, like a lobotomized soul. The track turns sleepy and hypnotic as words warble, the keys glow, and the track ends in echo. “Until” has keys fluttering as the pace picks up, and the vocals are far more direct. Things feel apocalyptic, as keys zap, the plying gets burly, and Beck insists, “It was nothing that you thought it would be, and you will throw it all away in the end,” as the track corrodes and fades. “Dial Tone” is one of the best songs here, one that feels like you’re in the midst of an uneasy dream. The track unfurls, the singing splashes in echo, and the ambiance is surreal as Beck calls, “I call and talk to dial tones,” almost as if he’s not with it. Strange keys then blare as the final moments shimmer. “Petit Mal” is an instrumental piece that has keys dancing electronically, mixing into proggy movements, then feeling like the soundtrack to an early 1980s abduction film before it bleeds into a trance.

“Inanimatronic” follows, another instrumental piece, that emerges with noises striking as the sounds crawl around and numb the senses. Sounds vibrate while the music sifts through the clouds, floating ghostlike over everything before slipping into static. “Next Solution” is the 11:59-minute closer if you have the physical version, and it’s a classic Pinkish Black epic that has clean keys dripping, the singing quivering, and the drama striking on high. The song moves slowly before getting rougher with the low-end rumbling and Beck crooning with his smooth, dark singing. The pace spills as mystery picks up, with the synth flooding and zany sounds stinging. As we wind to a close, the music gets muddier in spots, the pace and singing slur, and everything drains into the stars. The digital version contains two more songs, the first being “Away Again” that’s a virtual sound scape with sleepy synth lines, ambient drone, and more deep singing, with all these elements helping melt away your inhibitions. “We Wait” is direct and built on industrial knocks, honey-rich singing, and keys smearing as Beck continually laments, “We sit back and sleep, they eat away, and we wait.”

Pinkish Black’s ghoulish tendencies and absolute commitment to discomfort are as rich as ever on “Concept Unification,” a record that’s a logical extension from where the band had traveled before. Your skin and innards are likely to crawl, as the waves of sound wash over you and make you see strange visions. The night isn’t always the safest place to be, and Pinkish Black’s music is a stark reminder that if you’re not wary of what’s around the corner, it easily could be your end.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://store.relapse.com/b/pinkish-black

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

There are plenty of horrors that go on in our own plane of existence, our own planet, that can you imagine what might be happening in planets and galaxies beyond our own? We can’t be the only people who are out to push our influences on others, who try to exert our own strengths, and find ways to be dominant. Good thing closer planets and stars near us aren’t inhabited. What might we do to them?

Chicago sci-f-powered death metal bruisers Nucleus have been imaging what might be transpiring in the universe, something at which they’ve been busy ever since forming in 2012. On their second LP “Entity,” the follow-up to 2016’s “Sentient” (though thematically this picks up from their split “Fragmented Self” alongside Macabra), they unleash eight more immersive, violently creative cuts ensconced in a story about a bizarre shape-shifting force that forms in deep space, looking to exert its terror across the universe. A group of beings from multiple worlds, many alien to each other, must fight back to resist and destroy its push. It’s a story maybe too relatable and a little scary if, say, all of Earth’s leaders had to get their collective shit together, which is another thread you can think about during this album. The band—guitarists/vocalists Dave Muntean and Dan Ozcanli, bassist Ryan Reynolds, drummer Pat O’Hara—put their own alien-like imprints on their brand of death metal and keep your imagination bubbling as you take this enthralling 38-minute journey.

Fittingly, the record kicks off with “Arrival,” as a weird bassline slithers in before the track bursts with force. Weird, spacey growls and a proggy fury combine to fuel the engine, while the guitars go off, smearing soot in your face. Soloing lights up at the end, as growls devour everything, leading the title track into the room that begins hammering right away. Guitars blind while the pace chugs, and the drums loosen weak parts of your skull. Later on, the guitars stab in a show of progressive violence before things hit orbit and collide with “Uplift” and its confounding guitar assault. The track blasts and lets your head swim in chaos, while the guttural growls eat into the ground, and tricky thrashing emerges. Fluid soloing whips, while the aggression is magnified before mashing into “Mobilization.” There, the tempo mars while landing heavy blows, with the pace tearing your senses. This mixes into a strange, hypnotic flow, a pocket of strange howls, and a slower delivery that still managed to pulverize.

“Approach” is clear and cosmic at the start before things get frightening, and the doom hammers fall. The track opens up while keys ooze over the body, and then the soloing erupts, with the pace hammering and this instrumental cut leaving you bloody. “Outpost” immediately follows and flattens everything, led by sickening growls, splattering leads, and overall madness. Some playful weirdness emerges before the pace applies ample pressure, bodies are shredded, and the remains hurtle toward “Dominion” that has a fluid, creative start. Eerie speaking sends chills before the growls mangle bones, and a massive assault hits from every direction. The playing starts to turn delirious as guitars tangle, growls deface, and everything flows into album finale “Timechasm” that trickles in like an intergalactic poison. The track has a weighty, meaty feel to it, as the drums lay waste to its surroundings, destruction is at every turn, and the track is swallowed into the cosmos to be imprisoned among the stars forever.

Space horrors and having to face down intergalactic forces that likely don’t have our best interests in mind might actually be the things that could unite this world and get people to stop acting so goddamn selfish already. Let me dream, OK? Maybe a trip with Nucleus’ punishing, horrific “Entity” is just the sobering situation to give us some perspective. And if not, at least we can have our brains mangled by top-notch sci-fi death metal while we’re devoured whole.

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

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

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

Photo by Pam Strohm

Change is inevitable in music as metal and its millions of bands know all too well. There’s no sense in trying to get comfortable because, before you know it, shit gets torn apart in an instant, and you’re left scrambling for what to do. Often, bands end over turmoil and misfortune, and the ones strong enough to make it through chaos may never be the same again.

Speaking of which, it’s kind of ridiculous that Baroness survive as a band to this day. Their horrifying 2012 bus crash near Bath, England, should not have just killed the band, it very well could have ended their lives. But they survived, albeit in a different form when they returned in 2015 with fourth album “Purple,” and since that time, there was more turnover, leaving John Baizley as the lone original member of one of the world’s most adaptive bands. Oddly, all that change, with guitarist Gina Gleason added to the fold along with bassist/keyboard player Nick Jost and drummer Sebastian Thomson, seems to have worked in the band’s favor again, as their 17-track, hour-long new album “Gold & Gray” is one of the strongest things they’ve ever put out. They’ve delved headlong into their progressive rock bend but haven’t abandoned their metal roots, and Gleason’s presence gives the music and their aura something completely different and special. It’s exciting working through each song, and everything flows nicely, with tons of highlights along the way. Oh, and don’t be worried they overstuffed this thing considering there are 17 songs. There are 11 full tracks and six mini instrumentals woven in, which act almost like mood changers throughout the record’s run. It all works quite well.

“Front Toward Enemy” kicks off the record with strange noises floating before the windows are punched out, with Baizley vowing, “We’re headed toward disaster, and I won’t open my eyes until it’s over.” Guitars charge up, melody cascades, and then we’re into “I’m Already Gone” that has reflective verses, with Baizley admitting, “All I made were big mistakes.” The chorus is rousing and memorable with everything burning out in psychedelic fuel. “Seasons” pulls in and jolts, with Baizley calling, “We burn, we run.” As the song goes on, it gets crunchier and meaner, with Thomson pulling off some goddamn blasts before the track ends in a rush. “Sevens” is the first interlude cut, sitting in dreamy soundwaves, leading to “Tourniquet” that gets off to a folkish beginning. Baizley and Gleason both sing, which is a nice dynamic, as a lot of the track feels like it’s hurtling through blue skies and into the stars, as Baizley calls, “It’s an artificial heart, and I can’t feel a thing,” leaving everything in the cosmos. “Anchor’s Lament” is another interlude, bleeding into the universe, introducing the refrain to “Throw Me an Anchor,” the cut that follows. Drums crack in static, fiery guitars take charge, and, as usual, the singing is just great, with a tremendous chorus to boot. The playing is aggressive and loud, with the song decaying in noise. “I’d Do Anything” is a really good one, simmering in keys and moodiness, with Baizley dropping the album’s title when singing, “Spitting on the ground, the words fall ever gold and grey.” The chorus is simple but powerful, as Baizley wails, “I’d do anything to feel like I’m alive again,” as the band unloads fluttering intensity as things wash away.

“Blankets of Ash” is an interlude with noise bubbling, voices harmonizing, and a scratchy transmission that sets the way for “Emmett – Radiating Light” that has crickets chirping and Gleason and Baizley singing together, calling, “If I go out, will you find me a place where I’m supposed to be?” Chimes and piano meet up,  things falls back to a chorus of insects and a singular guitar leading the way. “Cold-Blooded Angels” also features dual vocals as quiet guitars echo, with Baizley lamenting, “Wasted years on an empty road.” The track speeds up and trudges, with Baizley wondering, “How the hell did I survive?” as the song trickles away. “Crooked Mile” is the shortest of the interludes, clocking in at 41 seconds and bringing a trippy vibe that pulls into “Broken Halo” that kicks up mud and finds Baizley’s voice going a little deeper than usual. There are some 1970s-style fireworks later in the guitar work, as the track boils in static. “Can Oscura” flows all over, pounding the senses with spacey weirdness before giving out for “Borderlines,” a late-album gem that has strong melodies, meaty vocals, and a psychedelic buzz that sinks its teeth into the chorus. Soloing rips shit apart, creating a crater of smoking rock, which final interlude “Assault on East Falls” follows with alien craziness blips and noises that’ll throw your brain for a loop. “Pale Sun” is their final charge, and it’s really different from everything that preceded it. Gazey lights shine, while Baizley and Gleason sing together, harmonizing and creating symmetry before the noise cracks and spits fire. Strange interference confuses brain signals, the vocals pick up, and the track ends in a gush of lava.

There doesn’t appear to be a mountain Baroness can’t climb, an ocean too expansive for them to travel, as they continue to survive and change for the better. “Gold & Grey” is another portrait of a band that has become like a rock chameleon, always able to switch colors to blend into their headspace at the moment. This is a powerful, emotional, fun record that proves yet again that they produce their own antidote to anything that tries to poison their systems.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://baronessmerch.shop.musictoday.com/store/

There’s a new Darkthrone album, so what the hell, let’s get into this and not waste a bunch of time. “Old Star” is their 18^th full-length record overall, another that doesn’t feel the need to revel in black metal’s trenches and instead goes off in another homage to the sounds that were breaking out three decades ago when this genre still was young.

You know the boys by now—guitarist/bassist/vocalist Ted Skjellum and drummer/vocalist Gylve Fenriz Nagell—and with six songs here, we get three that came from each of them. It’s a nice democratic system they’ve got going and have for a long time, and this record rips, just as we expected it would. Funny thing about elder statesmen and women in metal is that age and years don’t seem to get to them like other genres. They barrel through and prove their meddle each time out, and Darkthrone have done that for years. Last time we heard from the Nordic duo was on 2016’s “Arctic Thunder,” and what you’ll find here isn’t too far removed from that one. Which is great. These guys have been pretty damn consistent for the past 32 years, and there’s still plenty of fuel in the tank.

The record starts with “I Muffle You Inner Choir,” a mid-year candidate for best song title, and it launches with deadly riffs, the drums decimating, and Skjellum howling away, with the vocals scraping at the back of his throat. “Click your shit boots together, we are not in hell anymore,” he wails, as the track then settles into doomy terrain, boiling and chugging while things comes to a raucous finish. “The Hardship of the Scots” has Skjellum calling out, “You buy your home and follow a dream, no politics here, just self-esteem,” as gruff meanness sets in, and the leads light themselves on fire. A tempered pace arrives and changes the complexion, while an outright killer riff sets up and spits bolts, pushing the track to its back half, where the guitars trudge, the vocals splatter, and the song blasts its way out. The title track follows with the guitars crashing through the walls, and a melodic underbelly making its presence known, as Skjellum howls, “The old star dies for us all.” The track hits a sludgy pace, while the veins bleed slowly, and Skjellum shouts, “Mankind dies … DIES!”

“Alp Man” arrives with cool guitar work, grimy vocals, and a mangling pace that later slows and mashes. There’s a doomy pull here that makes this more sinister, while the leads continue bleeding, and the drums bash in skulls. “Duke of Gloat” lays waste right away, with the tempo gaining speed, and the vocals gurgling along. “Hail the Satan, sinister duke of gloat,” Skjellum calls, as melodies roll downhill like a boulder, and an eerie sensation later moves in, feeling like a thousand years of haunting. Things then start back up as the song gets nastier, growls smother, and the intensity leaves bone dust behind. “The Key Is Inside the Wall” closes the album, getting things off to a calculated start before the vocals lurch, and the band hits on something that borders on crust punk. Later, a strange cartoonish voice narrates, feeling like a plot point in a videogame, as he says, “You create your own destiny,” before the riffs strike back up again. The guitars dizzy, Skjellum cries, “Fingers able, just stumps now, the key is inside the wall,” as everything burns out and leaves a thick coat of ash.

While it’s amazing Darkthrone remain active, relevant, and punishing, let’s also not take that for granted. The ride can’t last forever, and there’s going to come a day when this duo reaches its end. But that time isn’t now, probably isn’t going to be tomorrow, and the more records such as “Old Star” they put into the world, the better for heavy metal fans everywhere. Hail forever.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Darkthrone-101075189934422

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

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