There are many band names that, once you hear them, you have a decent idea as to what the music might sound like. Did anyone think Bolt Thrower was going to be brainy prog? Did any listener expect warm folk passages when they first learned of Morbid Angel? Did anyone think a band called Mastodon could one day make boring-ass records that are forgettable the moment they’re over?

Despite doing this site for, holy shit, eight years now (?!), I haven’t heard of or especially heard every band, no matter how many records a group might have. So, when “Acts of Repentance,” the fourth long player from Australian blasters Wardaemonic landed in my email, I wasn’t super familiar with them. But I expected outright chaos and violence in their music, and wouldn’t you know it, that’s just what I got. Over five tracks and nearly 46 minutes, we’re treated to mammoth-sized tracks that bludgeon through and through. There also are pockets of strangeness and disorientation that could scramble your brains as the band—vocalist/drummer Maelstrom, guitarist Lord Bane, lead guitarist Anharat, bassist/synth programmer Blitz—adds imagination to their vile assault instead of just obliterating with no variety.

“Act I – Introspection” starts with dreary strangeness before aggression begins to pound away, and the playing blisters and destroys. An odd haze swims through the fury as an intense pace clobbers, and rubbery guitars confound. Crazed shrieks rain down as the track erupts into infernal mashing, hissing wildly before spilling into “Act II – Admission” that fires up right off the band. The band clubs as a monstrous pace creates a mound of ash, while the guitar work burns through proverbial barrels of fuel. Red clouds hang overhead as a furious storm arrives in downpours, there is a blur of chaos that ignites, and the final minutes are bathed in psyche strangeness and guttural pummeling.

“Act III – Castigation” has fog marring vision while scary chills go down your spine, and then the drums begin marching hard as the growls well up. Stinging hysteria chews at the psyche while the guitars mix through, and a coldfront approaches. The song chugs at mid-tempo while the playing reopens, guitars spiral, and the track drips away. “Act IV – Sufferance” delivers cosmic coldness before animalistic growls tear through time, and clean bellows smoosh your chest. Cool riffs spark further blazing, simmering in their juices, creating eerie strains. The track levels all over again with murky singing, melodies rupturing, and the assault bleeding away. “Act V – Repentance” ends the record by starting with tornadic pressure as the growls eat away, and the drumming decimates. Clean guitars flow in later and have a numbing effect, bringing temporary reprieve before the hammers drop again. The playing ravages the mind, the wind whips, and noise rises and burns away, bringing the record to a smoldering end.

Wardaemonic deliver exactly what you think they do on “Acts of Repentance”: smothering punishment that warps you mind. It’s been five years since we got new material from this band, and in that time, it seems as if they stored up aggression and frustration and unleashed it on this record. This is a cataclysmic display that leaves your flesh scorched and your psyche scarred.

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

To buy the album (North America), go here: https://transcendingobscurity.aisamerch.com/

Or here (Europe): https://transcendingobscurity.aisamerch.de/shop-en

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

It likely goes without saying that death metal and black metal are intrinsically violent and, from a musical standpoint, should not be considered styles for anyone who fears danger. But some bands take that more seriously than others, and their records can sound like pure war zones that could chew into your psyche and trigger your fight-or-fight response.

One of those is NYC’s Ruin Lust, a band that had sort of an off-and-on first few years before they solidified their assault and have delivered two scathing records in the past two years. The latest is their forthcoming “Choir of Babel,” a five-track, half hour exercise in unforgiving torture and music that makes it feel like the weight of the world is on your chest. Comprised of well-traveled crushers—vocalist/guitarist J. Wilson, guitarist S. Bennett (Vorde), drummer/vocalist M. Rekevics (Fell Voices, Yellow Eyes, Vanum)—the band follows up last year’s devastating “Sacrifice” with a bloody, aggressive display that feels like the earth’s rock is all melting together, creating an unavoidable lava flow that overcomes you, filling your body with hell, and feeling no concern for your mental well-being. This sounds over the top. It isn’t. In fact, it’s very possible I’m underplaying the intensity here.

The title track rips off the lid to hell with grim tidings and a furious eruption that bursts like a volcano. Growls scar while the mauling terror rips across the land, with guitars spilling pools of blood. Yells and growls mix and mar as thrashy fire engulfs the vicious end. “Prison of Sentient Horror” has guitars scorching and outright animalistic rage boiling over, melting flesh. Tornadic playing rises and twists your brain while metallic disaster strikes, and a searing solo tears in and creates havoc. The drums pummel bones to dust while the track spills its guts on the floor, leaving a massive stench.

“Worm” crushes from the start as the drumming rattles, and melodies are drowned underneath the chaos. From there, storming ferocity creates an increased amount of danger as blinding death ravages, horrific power overloads, and feedback smears to the end. “Bestial Magnetism” has guitars coming in black waves as a full assault is mounted, and the ruffles encircle you as gruff growls spit bolts. The playing comes apart by design as shrapnel burns through your body, as infernal destruction makes its way toward unsuspecting victims. Growls tear at throats, a wild fury grips, and everything burns out in madness. “Rite of Binding” is the 8:53-long closer that wastes little time attacking your wounds, as nasty growls and razor-sharp riffs swing wildly. Wild cries crush as the guitars hammer away before the pace slows down, grinding the brakes and letting the smoky aftermath choke you. An ominous fog hangs over the track as the growls mash and a hypnotic torture suffocates before the band violently hits the speed pedal again, driving you to a deathly finish.

Ruin Lust are here, they’re firing on all cylinders, and “Choir of Babel” is a disarming record that puts to shame the furious intent of most other death and black metal bands out there. Not that it’s a competition or anything, and likely they don’t give a fuck what everyone else is doing, but there is a resentment and sense of metallic revenge to these songs that rots them to their core. This isn’t music for reading or relaxing or vibing out. This is for all-out war, and if you’re not prepared to face it, you definitely won’t survive.

For more on the band, go here: https://ruinlust.bandcamp.com/

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

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

Photo by Kira Solomon

The young year hasn’t quite reached its quarter mark, so it’s still ripe for us to find new bands that will make lasting impacts on our year and, preferably, our listening futures. That means there are plenty of opportunities for records from fresh artists to sneak up and knock us on our asses, with said punishment totally welcomed if it means further solidifying metal’s lifeline.

That said, the Maryland-based doom psychonauts Dirt Woman have come out of the gates with their excellent five-track, 56-minute debut album “The Glass Cliff” that has pummeled our eardrums since ripping open the promo copy of the music. The band also has an interesting origin story as vocalist/guitarist Zoe Koch and drummer Gabe Solomon started their project in Ocean City, inspired by the late Donnie Corker, also known as the Dirtwoman, a cross dresser who lived in Richmond, Va., who was heavily involved in politics, music, arts, and food banks in the area. Corker also acted as a living floral arrangement for the Hamaganza holiday rock charity event that combined local dignitaries and creators. Corker’s story and activism inspired the duo, and later they were joined by guitarist Kearny Mallon and his brother and drummer Avery Mallon to round out the band, and the results from their first full-length together prove they sparked magic and are a true doom power to behold.

Lady of the Dunes” begins with heavy drone before the riffs begin to pummel, and Koch’s singing begins to infect. The track is burly and slowly melodic, flattening as more filthy guitar work slithers in, and dual lines entrance. The pace bashes as Koch’s vocals swelter and smother with the playing burning and bashing to the end. “Creator” punches for 13:09 and spits a ridiculous amount of fuzz as the track mashes away, and the music stings your senses. Koch’s singing haunts and glows as the drums leave welts on your chest, and warm static flows like a river as the power swells. The playing floats before the pace rips open, and the guitar work is from the same terrain as High on Fire and classic Sabbath. Bluesy fires rage harder, slowly melting away and crushing chests as the band creates metallic alchemy that deliberately bows out.

“Fades to Greed” begins ominously as the riffs tease, and Koch’s voice continues to command. The playing spreads and smokes your mind with the guitars spiraling and steamy speaking sprawling into the scene. The track then reopens and starts up its assault all over with psyche-washed guitars warping and everything liquifying metals. “Demagogue” runs 13:30 and has the bass quivering and the vocals penetrating as they soar into the atmosphere. The track slowly fills your head as the track goes from sweltering to outright trippy, continuing to build momentum as the waters warm up, and the leads release heat as the soloing comes in and melts. Koch’s singing hammers again before the tempo chills out, and the end is flushed in psychedelics. “Starhawk” runs 13:45 and closes the album, starting with chunky riffs and layered vocals that trip your mind. The guitars light up before dissolving into a strange haze as things hulk along and soloing tears off for the stars. Koch’s singing dominates and gets inside you as spellbinding playing increases the magic, and the band starts to unload hammers anew. As you’re being lulled into a calculated beating, the tempo suddenly shifts into a speedy barrage, bruising your eyes and bursting torches as the track comes to a thunderous finish.

Not only are the songs on Dirt Woman’s debut record “The Glass Cliff” filled with smoky, swaggering songs that overdeliver, the production sounds absolutely perfect, like you’re left with dusty sunburn when it’s all over. Koch is a killer singer out front, helping make these songs even more mesmerizing, and the rest of the band packs a punch that promises doom muscle and stoner gazing in equal amounts. This is a promising first step, and where the band goes from here is up to their smothering imaginations.

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

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

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

Some things, great as they may be, just aren’t meant to last. Things have a shelf life, and when they run their course, we just have to let them go. So goes the story of Morbus Chron, the incredibly promising, future-thinking progressive death metal band from Sweden that left us after just two records, that last one coming six years ago. What they could have been.

Here we are in anew decade, and the germs of what Morbus Chron planted see life in a new project Sweven, named after Morbus Chron’s 2014 swan song and helmed by that band’s founder Robert Andersson. For him, there was no other name to even consider for the band considering how “Sweven” transformed him as a creator, and since this group is essentially an extension of those same ideals, the decision was easy. Joined by guitarist Isak Koskinen Rosemarin on lead guitar and Jesper Nyrelius on drums, Andersson moved forward with what he was creating in Morbus Chron, a band that would end of influencing a great deal of the current progressive death metal movement and taking it to its next logical step. That’s found on their deliriously good debut record “The Eternal Resonance,” an eight-track beast that washes over you with strange fluidity, psychedelic scarring, and savagery, but not in a way that totally mimics Morbus Chron. There are definite differences here from that band and what others in the field are doing, making this another piece that should expand death metal’s mind.

“The Spark” is the instrumental opener that has clean guitars fluttering before the pace steps up, going into a progressive plunge that pushes into “By Virtue of a Promise,” a 9:21 cut that trickles slowly before things flow eerily into anguish before Andersson’s wails jar. The track is both thrashy and spacey with the soloing rumbling before the playing gets harsh again. Aggressive melodies pummel, while the emotional toll is heavy. “Reduced to an Ember” has a jazzy start that chills the flesh before the tempo is shredded apart, and riffs spiral into a cascading section that bleeds imagination. Rough wails and exploratory guitars combine and create a chaotic feel before keys and acoustics buff the edges, and the playing gently mystifies. “The Sole Importance” runs 8:03 and punches right away with guitars driving, Andersson’s vocals grunting, and the track melting into sci-fi fantasy. The playing turns melodic and trippy with an underbelly that contains a full bleeding heart. A hypnotic gaze gains steam as the soloing sprawls, bleeding out into a vortex.

“Mycelia” plays tricks with your mind, as hand drumming paces, and grim howls fan the flames. The tempo picks up and stomps bones as the vocals rip down your neck, and the playing keeps adding intensity. Keys join up and drip into the guitars, with the track ending with jazzy serenity. “Solemn Retreat” is the longest of the bunch, hulking over 9:43 and beginning submerged in water. The vocals push in and feel gruff while the guitars stretch and begin stinging your senses. The track feels like it floats for a bit, with the temperature shifting from hot to cold as some tremendous lead guitar work comes in and soothes your wounds. The back end lets the blood surge heavily as manic cries hit the air, and the track disappears into the stars. “Visceral Blight” enters with clean guitars as the pace trudges over the land, and the track ignites into a proggy explosion. Smeary keys blend in and create blurry vision as the playing gets pushier and stranger, the drums decimate, and things come to a crushing end. “Sanctum Sanctorum” closes the record by entering slowly, creating an ambiance before the guts are torn out. The track starts racing hard, making your adrenaline gush before it settles in the clouds and appears ready to drift away. The band returns to speed for a stretch, which works into gazey ambiance, pastoral chants, and the music turns into a metallic stream that drains into your nightmares.

Morbus Chron are truly irreplaceable, and they’re a personal favorite of mine. Funny, I once had someone at Century Media dig up a Morbus Chron T shirt deep in their inventory for me to buy, which was nice of them. But this is about Sweven, Andersson’s current beast, one with similar DNA but with obvious mutations. This is an exciting endeavor, one that places one of death metal’s most inventive minds back in the game at a time the genre is exploding. This utterly swells with possibility that hopefully Andersson is able to see through well into the future.

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

To buy the album, go here (pre-orders start March 9): https://van-records.com/

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

Photo by Simon Francis

There is your run-of-the-mill science-fiction that is ripe for being turned into motion pictures the public will devour, and then there’s the hardcore shit that takes research to understand half of what’s going on. To be honest, I’m super into the latter, essentially because I’m a gigantic dork and can’t help myself but get lost in those things.

When it comes to warped metal machine Lychgate, they definitely fall into the spectrum of content you need to thoroughly research if you want in on everything that’s going on. I mean, you can just show up for the music and be fine, though it’s also on the challenging side as well, but you’re not that kind of listener, are you? I’m not. I have to know everything that’s going on here, so that took me to endless Google searches when tackling the band’s new EP “Also Sprach Futura,” their first for Debemur Morti. Here, the English band delivers four mind-bending tracks that visit topical terrain such as the evolutionary theory of transhumanism; simulacra and simulation, a philosophical discourse by French sociologist Jean Baudrillard; and the fictional Golem XIV, a military AI machine that begins to create its own consciousness. That’s just scratching the surface of what the band—vocalist/guitarist Greg Chandler (Esoteric), guitarist D. Lindsley, and guitarist/keyboardist/organist C. Vortigern Young, bassist K. Webb, and drummer J.F. Vallely—jam into a 20:24-long effort that isn’t too much to take from a time a standpoint but will break your brain.

“Incarnate” punches open as organs sprawl all over, with zany chaos exploding unchecked. Buzzing singing and furious growls smash boundaries as the pace dizzies, keys flutter, and the track ends in a pool of drama. “Progeny of the Singularity” has a super proggy start before organs rumble, and a death-style assault tears open doors. The playing is ugly, hellish, and intimidating, with clean calls registering behind the madness. An eerie strain washes through and chills while the track gets heavier and muddier with the bass hammering. Ferocious shrieks run wild, with the song mauling before a flash finish. “Simulacrum” percolates and drips as slow chugging bruises, and clean calls perk ears. The track is even breezy for a stretch before lurching growls rupture calm, and the playing scrapes raw skin. Clean strangeness wafts in and adds more confusion before the body is shredded, and the final punches clean house. “Vanity Ablaze” ends the collection with the organs haunting before crunchy thrashing gets under way. Vicious growls mix with a clobbering pace before melting into a cold front where the guitars drip before turning into ice. Fires solve that problem as they ravage the cold, twisting and contorting, while the growls spit cinders, and pastoral organs swallow everything whole.

Lychgate long have created difficult music for complicated people, and like the theory of transhumanism, the band does seem to be progressing beyond their earthly coils on “Also Sprach Futura.” There’s a lot to dig into here, and with each layer comes more complications you must deal with in your mind. It’s a good stepping in point for those who have yet to approach Lychgate and want a quick glimpse, but afterward, there’s no undoing this experience that alters realities.

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

To buy the album (North America), go here: https://debemurmorti.aisamerch.com/

Or here (Europe): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/12-eshop

For more on the label, go here: https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/

Often at night when I take my dog into the backyard so she can relieve herself/bark wildly at the dogs two doors down, I gaze up at the sky and wonder what the could be going on beyond our world. Sure, it’s probably chemicals bubbling and strange skies hanging over barren, uninhabited land, but it’s also cool to think what it might be like to stand on one of those faraway planets.

Establishing said mythology for each planet in our galaxy became a creative point for like-minded atmospheric black metal bands Spectral Lore and Mare Cognitum, who join forces once again on their intimidatingly expansive split release “Wanderers: Astrology of the Nine,” a 10-track, 115-minute collection that definitely weighs you down by its sheer girth. But don’t be intimidated by that insane running time, as the record doesn’t feel nearly that long because the two artists here—Ayloss of Spectral Lore and Jacob Buczarski of Mare Cognitum—fill this with explosive wonder and fluid musical storytelling. The two worked together before on 2013 split “Sol,” but this one is above and beyond that endeavor. Taking influence from Gustav Holst’s “Planets Suite,” an orchestral work with pieces named after each planet and its corresponding mythological representative. The songs take their time and build their own worlds, the goings on within, and the power emanating from each celestial body, blasting you generously with might and majesty.

“Mercury (The Virtuous)” has Spectral Lore starting off the collection with a storm whipping, which very well could be solar, before the track builds and colors rush. Finally, the playing begins to ravage as Ayloss’ screams destroy, and the pace is relentless. The track stampedes with savage vocals, melody spilling, and the track stomping out. “Mars (The Warrior)” is Mare Cognitum’s first cut, running 09:25, which is one of the shorter songs on here. Riffs erupt under a melodic passage, tracking violently and heading into cavernous fire. The guitars begin to bend in a Blut Aus Nord fashion before the playing unravels and raptures, hypnotizing before destruction rides again. The drums pound away, Buczarski’s vocals penetrate, and the track ends in a feverish haze. “Earth (The Mother)” is 11:56 and has Spectral Lore back in the saddle, offering clean tones and an eerie ambiance. The tempo kicks in along with Ayloss’ growls, while the guitars bleed into the pace, and a heavy wave of emotion strikes. The playing is blinding and just gets more aggressive, going faster, bleeding emotion, and lashing out with crazed cries. Mare Cognitum deliver “Venus (The Priestess),” a 12:27-long track that greets you with elegant playing and a breath of calm before a huge deluge lands, and Buczarski’s vocals cut through that. Heat melts into the fog and mist, as a freezing gaze pushes through smashing and smearing, and the playing wells up. The song floods the senses while riffs keep looping, charring to the finish. “Jupiter (The Giant)” is still Mare Cognitum offering a 15:04 cut that charges slowly, simmering into calm while thunder strikes, and a storm spreads over before the vocals land about 5 minutes in. The track plays games with your mind and heart as the playing snakes through the murk, and blood rushes. The main riffs comes back and infects, rains reload, and the song rushes to a huge finish.

Spectral Lore returns with “Saturn (The Rebel)” and envelopes you in shadowy darkness before Ayloss unleashes harsh shrieks, while mind-bending melodies come through and shock the senses. The vocals then ravage as the music goes into a light-headed slurry, the bass folds dimensions, organs spill, and the humidity bleeds out into the sky. “Neptune (The Mystic)” is Mare Cognitum, and the song blasts in with amazing force, as Buczarski’s shrieks carve wounds into your brain. The playing mauls and creates bruising, as the soloing explores the outer reaches of the galaxy before rage reignites and threatens safety. The music begins to spiral cosmically, hurtling toward the stars, while the melody gushes anew, and the end is ripped out dangerously. Spectral Lore brings you “Uranus (Spectral the Fallen),” which runs 12:24 and penetrates the world in mere seconds. Harsh growls hiss as the bass recoils, while doomy slithering adds an extra layer of grit to the song. Drums rain down while chaos bubbles to the surface, but then everything halts, and we’re in solemn sailing. Speaking and trippy adventures combine, working into the clouds as drone buzzes heavily, and the track returns to its bed in the stars. The final two pieces combine both bands, starting with “Pluto (The Gatekeeper) Part I” that’s an 11:30-long ambient passage that hosts a deep noise storm that reaches its long arms around you, as spirits from deep in the universe stretch their influences into our minds, leading to finale “Pluto (The Gatekeeper) Part II” that lasts a cool 12 minutes. The track opens in mystery before shrieks strike out of nowhere, and alien keys land and soak the ground. Guitars build a blaze before the music numbs momentarily before the next explosion. The serving of ferocity stomps as terrifying cries jolt from beyond, the leads fire up, and a bed of keys brings a steamy atmosphere that floats off into worlds unexplored.

Spectral Lore and Mare Cognitum not only are musically aligned, but they are cosmically as well as they prove yet again on “Wanderers: Astrology of the Nine,” already an early contender for one of the best collections that will come out this year. Their individual pieces stand apart from each other but also intermingle, and when they combine forces for the last two songs, this whole thing truly comes together. Granted, this record is a monster that takes a significant time contribution to handle at once, but that time you set aside will be more than worth it once you reach the end of this adventure, absolutely floored by what you just heard.

For more on Spectral Lore, go here: https://www.facebook.com/spectral.lorebm

For more on Mare Cognitum, go here: https://www.facebook.com/MareCognitumMusic/

To buy the album, go here: http://i-voidhanger.com/shop/

Or here: https://marecognitum.bandcamp.com/album/wanderers-astrology-of-the-nine

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

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

Life is cruel and often makes no sense, which sometimes makes it impossible to have any real hope or, for some, take solace in spiritual beings who apparently have our best interests in mind. It’s one of those reasons that when I find myself complaining about some mundane problem or thing that’s just annoying me, I make myself remember there are worse problems out there, and this will pass.

So, when you imagine all of the things that go wrong in this world, there are few things as senseless and devastating as a child having to stare down their mortality. That’s one of the many things that faced long-standing doom institution My Dying Bride in the time that followed their last record, 2015’s “Feel the Misery,” an album that had a title no one could have predicted would come true as painfully as it did. Yeah, the band faced untimely departures of some of its members since then, but that would be nothing compared to vocalist Aaron Stainthorpe’s 5-year-old daughter being diagnosed with cancer. Luckily for her and for the Stainthorpe family, she would defeat that heartless menace, but the emotional toll had to be enormous. That said, this and members leaving the fold served to galvanize My Dying Bride, and they return with “The Ghost of Orion,” a record that continues on the high note “Misery” struck and is an album that is pure MDB through and through. The band—Stainthorpe is joined by guitarist Andrew Craighan, bassist Lena Abé, keyboardist/violin player Shaun Macgowan, and drummer Jeff Singer—hammers through an eight-track, 56-minute gem that feels like the band is still reveling in their classic days, broken but unbowed.

“Your Broken Shore” starts the record, and it’s an early indication as to just how powerful this collection is. Stainthorpe is of strong voice from the start, mixing clean vocals over the verses, harsher during the chorus as he calls, “The doom of your broken shore, it washes over me, hair woven of the sun and the sea.” A quiet haze of strings sweeps as the song pulls back and forth, ending on a fiery note. “To Outlive the Gods” opens up guitars as slow-driving despair scrapes the ground, and the chorus strikes you right in the chest. An emotional pall adds heaviness as Stainthorpe wails, “Ruin came slowly and devoured all of me,” as sorrowful leads flood, and the track trickles away in pain. “Tired of Tears” unloads gut-wrenching power as the strings darken, as Stainthorpe admits, “I know no life can live forever.” The chorus is weighty and gripping, as he calls, “Lay not thy hand upon, lay no hand on my daughter,” which strikes hard as he recalls his family’s rough past. The singing is passionate and heartfelt here, and the somber strings add the ideal level of darkness. “The Solace” features Lindy Fay Hella of Wardruna on vocals, as she adds a haunting edge to a song that only gushes guitars as the ambiance drifts over like a slow-moving storm.

“The Long Black Land” runs nearly 10 minutes and starts with quivering strings and deeper vocals, as Stainthorpe urges, “Listen to my voice,” as the skies blacken. A sense of calm arrives, cool winds blow, and the track feels almost nautical, lapping as the song begins to pick up again. Guitars coat with condensation as Stainthorpe urges, “Hold my hand, young one,” before the song comes to a melodic end. The title track is a quick interlude with clean guitars spiraling, whispers swirling, and the fog encircling. “The Old Earth” is the longest track, running 10:30 and immersing itself in clean doom. The vocals drip before the song begins to carve forcefully, and then fierce growls erupt and unleash grit and murk. The track hits gothy waters as grim growls drop their hammers, with the pace shifting violently, and mercy refuses to arrive. The playing beats down forcefully, strings moan, and then everything disappears into smoke. “Your Woven Shore” is a slight return of the opening track, lettings its melody swim through the body of the song, angelic voices sweep through, and the track spills onto mystery.

My Dying Bride had a stretch they surely would not wish in the worst of Earth’s enemies, but in the end, the most important issues were triumphed over, and we have “The Ghost of Orion” as a result. This is a record with which I spent a great deal of time ever since it landed in my lap, and it’s a master class of true blackness and dark chaos, of which this band has dominated in their three decades of existence. Hopefully the band’s darkest days personally are behind them and they continue to reward us with gut-wrenching, elegant doom for years to come.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.nuclearblast.com/en/shop/index.html

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

Artists take time away from their projects for myriad reasons, and it’s really none of our business why it happens. But for as prolific as some artists seem to be, there are others that aren’t constantly cranking out material. But when they do, a lot of times it was worth the wait.

We haven’t gotten a new full-length from Minnesota black metal duo Canis Dirus in eight long years, the last one being “Anden om norr” that was released in 2012. Last year, things started to stir with the arrival of their “Das Leben ist fur die Lebenden, der Tod ist fur Alle” EP, and later in the year, the band—vocalist Rob Hames, multi-instrumentalist Todd Paulson—announced they would be returning with a new full-length under the Bindrune Recordings banner, bringing more nature enthusiasts under that label’s embrace. That new record is now arriving in the form of “Independence to the Beast,” a six-track crusher that feels explosive and raw at the same time, a new blast of fury from two guys who take their time and craft their work to their own specifications. Taking their name from the ancient dire wolf, the band prides itself in celebrating life’s natural birth and death cycles, and within that is creative and spiritual rebirth, a stage in which they’re now operating.

“We Are the Ancient Ones” tears the lid off the record with fierce shrieks and the playing burning flesh before things settles into a slower pace. There’s a rock feel underneath the chaos before wrenching power is unleashed again, with eerie synth coming in to chill your blood. The leads warm up again and usher in punishing waves before noise hangs in the air and drifts away. “Father” delves back to the band’s folk roots as acoustics pick their way through the weeds, and the verses are more spoken than sung, with Hames wondering, “Father, am I strong enough?” before asserting, “Yes, son, stronger than he,” as the song ends in reflective pools. “The Child and the Serpent” has synth building and creating ambiance before the power erupts, and the metallic assault takes on a dusty feel. Shrieks scrape as the song mixes light and dark, feeling hypnotic and strange at times during this 11:49 journey, as guitars quiver and echo. “It comes to you like the serpent came to Eve, your eyes will be open, and you will be like god,” is a statement that jolts the final moments before the track drains into the river.

“To Cast the Runes” also brings folk spirits back into the mix with spoken lines that climb into your brain and a mesmerizing inhibition that melts thoughts. “Extreme Might of Resolve” explodes with shrieks and dizzying guitars before synth meets up with bending riffs, and the music spirals into freezing terrain. Manic shrieks then fire up as the playing begins to maul, letting a classic metal-style riff have its space to develop and knock you flat on your ass. It’s a killer. That guitar line keeps coming back for more as a solo rips hearts, and the playing clubs your muscles into shape. “Unyielding” closes the album, and it’s the longest track at 15:46. It starts in a bed of melody before chaotic playing strikes hard, bringing moodiness and outright violence. The song has a vibe that makes me think of being lost in the forest with the midday sun beating down, and a calm folkish sprawl arrives and is burnt to a crisp by a terrifying assault that could tear doors off their hinges. The track steamrolls as noise builds to a climax, murky and trippy playing enters, and the track is allowed to bleed away slowly, taking with it your mind and spirit.

Time away can be valuable both for the artists who make music and for the listeners who consume and celebrate it, as it allows us a chance to remember what it was about a band that made them special in the first place. “Independence to the Beast” very well could be that thing for long-waiting Canis Dirus devotees, and the six tracks that greet you at their gnarly gates will ensure you that the fires are blazing as hot and heavily as ever.

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

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

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

Every country’s history is packed with both positive and negative events that helped shape society and get people to where they are today, for better or worse. It seems like a lot of times people don’t want to reflect on the things that don’t shine a good light on one’s homeland, yet shelving those things don’t help us learn from our mistakes so that we don’t repeat them in the future.

Indonesian black metal band Pure Wrath has unearthed one of those on their thunderous new EP “The Forlorn Soldier,” a three-track effort that trades quantity for utter brutality. This release looks back on the Indonesian genocides in 1965 and 1966 when the Indonesian army turned its wrath on Communist Party of Indonesia members, Gerwani women, ethnic races, and other leftist sympathizers in violent attacks that cost countless lives. This album focuses on a story on one family whose members vanished swallowed up by the evils of nationalism. That makes this material far more terrifying than any satanic or demon-driven metal because these events are real things that happened to people and tore lives apart. Reality is always more frightening. The band is the brainchild of Januaryo Hardy, though he gets contributions from drummer Yurii Kononov (formerly of White Ward) and piano from Dice Midyanti (Victorian), and this is the band’s second EP to go along with two full-length albums, the last one being 2018’s “Sempiternal Wisdom.”

“When a Great Man Dies” starts things off with blistering fury as melody floods over, and Hardy’s nightmarish shrieks strike. Keys come in and rain over the chaos while the rage builds to a boil. Storming playing saturates the ground before soulful clean calling mixes in, changing the dynamic for a stretch before synth wafts in, and warbled speaking bows out with the song. “Children of the Homeland” ruptures from the start as riffs begin to make their way in, and murky synth lets a fog envelope. Shrieks rain down as the pace grows more frantic, and then clean playing introduced serenity for a bit, as the music float on waves before it ruptures again. The keys leave a glistening glaze as the music pounds the shore, shrieking smothers, and the track ends hellaciously.  “With Their Names Engraved” closes the album, beginning with clean notes that trickle  before riffs cascade, and the track spills guts dramatically. Clean singing mixes with slower-driving playing that remains just as heavy, while a synth cloud drops before the music gushes with power. A short clean part changes the pace for a stretch before eerie calls go out, passionate guitars erupt, and the track churns to its emotional finish.

Hardy’s revisiting a horrific era in his country’s history can’t be easy to confront, but he does so with blunt emotion and power on “The Forlorn Soldier.” The music continues to evolve for this project, as this EP pushes their sound even more atmospheric and demonstrates the possibilities Hardy possesses for Pure Wrath. This is a band and release that deserves the greater exposure it will get from Debemur Morti, and hopefully more people will learn about this project’s music as well as the terrible events that never should be repeated again.

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

To buy the album (North America), go here: https://debemurmorti.aisamerch.com/band/pure-wrath

Or here (Europe): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/422-pure-wrath-shop

For more on the label, go here: https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/

Photo by Lillian Liu

I went white water rafting once. Once. I already didn’t like water a hell of a lot, at least not natural bodies that could have their way with me, and my nerves during said excursion are likely what led me to fall off the raft, briefly get my leg caught on a rock, and think I was never going to see the surface again. Let’s not even get into my anxiety outside of that.

The Marvok Soroka-driven project Drown used that name because the music under this banner follows a protagonist as the person slowly becomes submerged—not necessarily literally—and feels the great pressure as the lungs take on water. So, on the second Drown album “Subaqueous,” it’s not that you’re hearing a tale about a person slowly dying under water; it’s about someone facing grief and depression, finding the earth slowly sinking beneath the crust, and the idea of control or solace being the furthest thing from the mind. Musically, you’re overcome by true aquatic doom, as the blackness of the sea surrounds you, sometimes feeling like a picture of beauty, at others creating a scene that sparks claustrophobia and panic and you struggle against yourself to reach the surface. It’s been six long years since we got the first chapter of this tale (2014’s “Unsleep”) from Soroka ( also of Tchornobog and Aureole), and it stills feel like the weight of an entire ocean sits on top of us.

“VI: Mother Cetacean” opens the record and runs a healthy 20:52 yet isn’t the longest song of the pair. Waves rush in and flood as guitars drip and a heavy doom curtain falls, enveloping everything in shadows. Riffs melt stone, and the emotional playing tears at the guts, with Soroka’s deep lurching growls sending shocks through your system. The sea’s utter blackness and hopelessness are never more apparent as the track floats into solitary fear, floating into cavernous noise and music that feels like it’s efforting to stay above water. Wild wails curse as the track tears forward at a calculated clip, as guitars trickle lightly, draining off into the void that swallowed whole by sorrowful strings and echoing that sound like you’re succumbing to the beyond.

“VII: Father Subaqueous” is the final track and the mammoth cut at 21:04. Again, the waters overwhelm as sadness feels like it comes from the depths and utterly claims you. The vocals wrench as clean playing arrives like a steady drizzle, soaking clothing and adding to the misery, and then Soroka’s lurching growls return and consume before lights wash over again. That leads into a vast expanse that brings in a deathrock vibe before the song reopens and wails away. The leads catch fire, and the emotion crushes before the guitars turn the screws again, and the tempo brings added pressure. A warm haze hovers overhead as the string bed returns and brings a haunting elegance, while the music crescendos heavily, the music moans, and the playing bows out at sea.

It’s easy to feel lost, hopelessly sinking, and out of control when grief and depression take hold, and only someone who has faced these things could possibly understand the pain involved. Drown’s “Subaqueous” is a trip into that world, only instead of just feeling pressure from a mental state, it’s from being swallowed whole by a massive, unmoving body of water over which you have no control. The misery and chaos are real, and perhaps the only way out is to become one with that very watery burial ground into which you’re forever submerged.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://prophecy.lnk.to/drown-subaqueous

For more on the label, go here: https://en.prophecy.de/