Typically, heavy metal album art is there to grab the eye and make you wonder what’s contained in the music that lies within. That’s one of the most obvious things I’ve ever said on this site, but hold on. I promise I’m going somewhere. You would think most art would be an invitation into something—Cannibal Corpse art aside—but what happens when a cover has the opposite effect?

I ask because the cover of Sulphurous’ thunderous second record “The Black Mouth of Supulchre” contains a cover, the record’s doorway, if you will, that makes me never, ever want to visit the place it’s depicting. It’s a scene that reeks of “fuck this shit, I’m going a different direction,” and the band’s morbid brand of death metal only amplifies those feelings. All of this is a positive, in case you’re confused, because these six tracks that spread over 37 minutes contain horror you practically can taste and a fear that builds up in your mind. The band—M.F. (guitars, vocals, piano), M.C. (bass), T. (drums)—creates a terrifying ambiance and music to match that douses you in soot and darkness as you crawl on your hands and knees hellbent to avoid whatever that is on the cover. It’s hell. It has to be.  

“Emanated Trepidation” starts the record on a morbid note, mauling and opening wounds, testing with its furious pace. The drums bring further devastation as the humidity thickens, the growls maul, and the leads stretch their wings and blacken with shadow. The growls devastate as the guitars amplify their stranglehold, dealing some final thrashy burns. “Dry Breath of the Tomb” starts basking in doom as the center is sliced open, and gnarly growls begin to land blows. The band then starts to clobber you as the leads heat up, and the pace seemingly aims to rub your face in cinders. Things get faster, the drums smash, and a final assault ends the display in flames. “Shadows Writhing Like Black Wings” starts in a fog that has keys dripping and the sense of dread intensifying. The track then shows its teeth and increases the attack, the riffs breed melodies, and the playing seemingly glows as it moves out of the sunlight. Emotion increases as the intensity boils, and that lets off penetrating steam.

“Eyes Glaring Black Fury” situates itself in doomy blackness as monstrous vocals explode out of corners, and a brutal fury lands and spits rock and soil into unsuspecting mouths. Things feel sinister and volatile as the growls crush, the drumming opens holes in the ground, and everything funnels into the dark, shrouded in mystery. The title track enters amid gushing guitars and a chugging pace as the band keeps mercilessly pounding away. It feels like you’re taking heavy gashes to your sides as the playing gets increasingly monstrous, gargantuan growls smother, and the track blasts out into the atmosphere. “Gazing Into the Patch of Darkness” is the final track, and it feels like it’s going right for your head from the start. The track is just hulking as it gets its footing with the guitars spiraling and spindling, and chaos makes itself the heart of the whole thing. The guitars eventually tidal wave as melodies stretch, the tempo powders bones, and everything suddenly fades into the air, leaving burns behind.

If at the end of Sulphurous’ “The Black Mouth of Sepulchre” you don’t feel shaken by cosmic horror, you’re either not easily disturbed or a total fucking liar. This is a devastating dose of death metal mixed with doomy synthesis, and its dalliances with terror beyond what the mind can comprehend adds even more heaviness and uncomfortable feelings. This is a smasher of a record that is not designed to recognize compassion and only works to amplify your worst fears. Mine is that cover.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100048470091245

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

Or here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/sulphurous-black-mouth-of-sepulchre-vinyl/

Or here: https://desiccatedproductions.com/shop/product/sulphurous-the-black-mouth-of-sepulchre-mc-preorder/

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

And here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/

And here: https://desiccatedproductions.com/

Everyone jokes about Florida because, well, it’s Florida. Bugs Bunny had the right idea when he tried to saw that bastard off the country to have it sail off to wherever. But at the same time, heavy metal owes a fuck ton to that silly state with the legendarily terrible governor (one in a long line of them) as the swamps gave birth to some of the heaviest, gnarliest bands in history, so, thanks?

We must be nice to the Sunshine State again because they’ve now puked up Worm, a misery-inducing, doom-glazed death band that is bellying up to our table with their great third record (and first released domestically) “Foreverglade.” Slithering over six tracks and about 43 minutes, the band—Phantom Slaughter handles vocals and multiple instrumental duties, Nihilistic Manifesto offers guest guitar work, L. Dusk plays drums on a session basis, and Equimathorn provides added synth—buries you in the grotesque and wondrous, creating music that should absolutely sicken you but also provides a mental stimulation that makes your nerves tingle. It’s hard to explain, so you’re probably better off experiencing the thing for yourself and see what perverse journey it provides.

The album opens with the title track, a gloomy, dour crusher that soaks in misery and pain with the vocals sounding like they’re trying to gut themselves. The track opens and chugs, punishing as a doom fog thickens and helps wilt every living thing, playing with your senses until the thing ends in smoke. “Murk Above the Dark Moor” plods and pounds as shrieks explode, with the accompanying growls attempting to bury any sense of hope. Things feel spooky and unsettling as the pace picks up and brings violence, synth delivers thick moodiness, and the band then clobbers hard, cracking through the earth. Eerie keys chill blood while the leads glimmers, and the vocals surge and snarl to the end. “Cloaked in Nightwinds” runs 11:15, making it the longest cut on here. The track mashes and squeezes blood from your veins, and the terror builds like a plaque as the tempo starts to charge. The playing thrashes as a hazy synth cloud hovers and brings a cold shade, causing you to shiver out of control. The dueling shrieks and growls push and pull as things continue to gain momentum, slowly dripping chilling icy drops, draining until every fiber of life disappears.

“Empire of the Necromancers” starts with the riffs flexing and the growls hammering, ripping sheets of rust off corroded metal. The keys increase their presence as strong melodies stretch their enormous wings, and the playing gusts, taking on a strangely proggy vibe, picking up more speed, and thickening the emotional toll. A cavernous chill expands as the growls and shrieks unite and bury the song in filth. “Subaqueous Funeral” has guitars echoing and immersed in hallucinatory waters while the dual vocals rear their head again, creating sickness. There’s a balminess to melodies that make it feel like a chunky sweat is accumulating around your neck, the leads pick up some warmth, and the back of the cut scorches everything it picked up along the way. “Centuries of Ooze” closes the album with organs rising and a burly spirit hovering over this 9:48-long mauler. The feeling of dread spreads fast, crushing hard and aggressively, wrenching your tested muscles. It feels like the walls are melting around you as the ground rumbles, and solemn playing intensifies as guitars flourish, clean calls beckon, and the final moments bleed out into the sewers.

Trudging through “Foreverglade” definitely makes it feel like you’re picking webs and flies from your face as you sink deeper into the muck, wondering if you’ll ever breathe fresh air again. But Worm also pack their music with funeral-style doom that can feel elegant in anyone else’s hands, but with this band, it clogs with impenetrable grime. This is an adventure into darkness that is immersive and intriguing but also leaves you feeling like you’ve digested something your body is bound to reject.

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

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

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

Every year, I look forward to enjoying the sights, sounds, smells, and colors of autumn, my favorite season of the year, one that might not actually exist any longer. The forecast here in Pittsburgh has us no cooler than 66 degrees through the next two weeks, and the goddamn fall colors mostly are non-existent, so I guess I’ll just get ready for winter. Eventually.

I have this on my mind not because Noltem relish the atmospheric black metal that so often bends the knee to nature. Well, that’s part of it. The other comes in the color scheme of the cover on debut full-length “Illusions in the Wake,” which splashes purple, green, and gold over a mountainous setting that makes me think of hikes in Thomas, WV., in years past. The rushing waters and the propulsive black metal floods your senses, which seems by design, as the band—guitarist/keyboardist Max Johnson, bassist Shalin Shah, drummer/vocalist/guitarist/keyboardist John Kerr—immerses you in the world of rich hues that fill your mind to its tipping point. They’re joined by guest guitar soloists including Zach Miller (Pyrithe), Aaron Carey (Nechochwen), and Jordan Guerette (Fall of Rauros) to help flesh out compositions that don’t just lather you with sound but also stimulate your imagination.   

“Figment” is the 8:30-long opener, and it arrives in rushing waves lapping the shores before the track opens in glory, the guitars leading the way. The shrieks hammer away, feeling feral and gapingly emotional, while the melodies sweep you under, eventually pulling you into colder waters. The drums rumble as the vocals crush, the pace keeps its foot on the gas, and spacious power eventually gives way to the same bubbling waves that greeted us. The title track has synth dripping and the vocals powering, while the playing has elements of castle metal to it, giving it a nice regality. Harder punches are landed by the rhythm section while the guitars are enraged, with the leads spiraling into the ground. The playing feels elegant, the final blows register, and the body heads into the stars. “Beneath the Dreaming Blue” melts into the scene, moving gently and thoughtfully before the roars swallow it whole. The melodies feel hypnotic before the power rushes in, strengthening the current, unloading a multitude of colors not unlike what’s on the cover, and ending in a haze of shrieks and madness.

“Submerged” is a quick instrumental that works the rushing waves back into the picture, the guitars create a haze, and the track bows out to the sea, making way for “Ruse,” an 8:48 gem that emerges in the heart of rich vibration and bustling power. The vocals wrench while the playing smears, bringing to the surface more varied textures and even some cleanliness that works its way in through the murkiness. Clean calls echo behind as the guitars awaken, a synth glaze thickens, and the track feels temporarily gothy, which makes your flesh chill. It feels like your head is caught in a fog, your mind eases into the colder temperatures, and the track ends at the feet of a dying machine. “On Shores of Glass” is the instrumental closer, and it’s a damn rousing way to finish this record, jolting and churning, increasing the moodiness. The drums pummel as the keys take on an alien buzz, feeling prog rock as fuck, agitating fires, and finally expiring as the souls it enchanted turn to dust.

It took a little while to finally get Noltem’s full-length debut offering in our hands, but that wait was worth it as “Illusions in the Wake” is a landmark effort as far as atmospheric black metal in 2021 is concerned. There is an energy at the heart of this record that is impossible to shake, a spirit that rages through it and into you, and it’s also a collection that gets more defined with each visit. Yeah, there are a lot of bands trying this same style, but very few are doing it with an inherent understanding and razor-sharp efficiency as Noltem, a band whose future we will follow with great interest.

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

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

Or here (Europe): https://transcendingobscurity.aisamerch.de/shop-en_1

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

Black metal is not uncommon ground for the mixing of worlds that don’t always exist alongside each other but somehow blend unexpectedly well. This is one of those stories. But it’s not just different forms of music being plied together; it’s also the union of eras past with the present, the living with the dead, and it all works to create a haunting atmosphere that fully ingests the active listener.

I say active because anyone passively listening to “Talkin’ in Tongues With Mountain Spirits,” the second full-length from Primeval Well, very well might miss the ghosts and rattling stories combined within. Over eight tracks, the band mixes thunderstorming black metal, bluegrass, and rustic folk along with stories from their homes in the eastern mountains in Tennessee and spirits that passed long ago but remain among us, weaving in and out of these songs. The band—vocalist/guitarist Ryan Clackner, bassist/vocalist Luke Lindell, keyboardist/vocalist Edward Longo, drummer Zac Ormerod—play in other bands such as StumpTail, Vile Haint, Arcane Morrow, and others, but what they do here is even out of the realms of those groups that also push ideas and expectations into the netherworld. This is best experienced with full attention, eyes and ears open, letting your mind be stimulated.

“Psilocybin Psychosis by the Mountain Top Cross” is quick opener that sets the tone, marrying strange chants, psychedelic weirdness, and feral cries as things move toward “Raising Up Antlers to Our Mountain Gods” that begins in heavy mood as the guitars explode. The riffs snarl as the melodies carve their path, taking you for an exhilarating ride that plays with your mind and pummels your soul. A brief respite of calm explodes on the other end as strange guitars furrow brows, a soulful display sets your guts on fire, and everything burns into a hypnotic rage. “She Flies Undead” dawns with guitars creaking and a heavy bluegrass feel exploding and carrying the pace. The vocals deliver an Appalachian folk fever, feeling like a black metal floor stomper, and the bulk of this thing is heavily catchy, compelling you to join in the experience. The patterns continue, it feels like ghosts have taken over the floor, and the playing explodes and leaves you tested. “Ghost Fires Burn Light in Our Eyes” is a dose of slowly burning black metal with growls adding pressure, with murk thickening the stew. Guitars mix in and overwhelm as organs enter, a proggy burst surprises and enthralls, and suddenly your heartstrings are tangled as a final gust explodes and then submits to feedback.

The title track has a hearty bluegrass rush that rollicks and works into a black metal fury that foams at the mouth and sinks in its teeth. Bizarre leads make you tilt your head over the perverse creativity, and then things change up and take on some unexpected gothy vibes. Atmosphere works its way through the center, speed stampedes again, and the track storms viciously, melting into the synth power. “Tales Carved in Stone on a Forbidden Road” starts with acoustic picking, quivering guitars, and wonderfully folkish melodies before the drums begin to mash. The playing unloads great energy and awesome power, the riffs smother, and animalistic roars lean into your ribcage. Banjos join the main lines, the band blasts hard, and the track comes to a guttural conclusion. “Where All Things Are Forgotten” explodes with a capella singing, with the old folk song “Am I Born to Die” recited with great spirit, conjuring ages passed by. The electricity arrives later and shocks your system with the wild chaos brewing, splitting open the ground and letting dark spirits collect, ending the track in boiling madness and bells chiming away. “Sickening Laughter With the Grinning Trees” is an acoustic, instrumental closer delivering eerie vibes and a sense that you’re being swallowed whole by the center of the woods.

Primeval Well sound like nothing else out there right now, even other bands that employ bluegrass and black metal hybrid. The playing on “Talkin’ in Tongues With Mountain Spirits” often sounds like vessels from ages ago uniting, injecting black metal into their formula, and bringing you into the center of something you never could understand. This is music that feels like it exists on a very different level, letting you have a glimpse into a volatile spirit world waiting to call you home.

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

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

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

Doing something original in heavy metal (in any genre!) is growing increasingly tougher to do because everything has already been done before. In fact, everything has been redone before, and if you’re into music because you want to find innovation you’ve never experienced, I can imagine your record collection is quite small and sad. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible to try unconventional means.

The Silver contains a group of artists who have created some of the more impactful music in heavy metal over the past decade, but here, they deliver sounds you will and won’t expect from them in a way that’s never not enthralling. Their debut offering is “Ward of Roses,” and it provides eight tracks that mix a bevy of different sounds in a manner I don’t really think I’ve heard before. No, they’re not inventing new subgenres, but they’re taking sounds that have inspired them—vocalist Matt Duchemin, guitarist Matt Knox, bassist Jamie Knox (both of death maulers Horrendous), drummer Enrique Sagarnaga (from doom rollers Crypt Sermon)—and putting them into different formulas. It’s heavy, gloomy, mournful, vulnerable, and exciting, a mix that feels like they’re on to creating something that is unique to them and very much something that makes every drop of your blood sizzle with excitement.

“…First Utterance” is a fluid, fog-creating instrumental opener that sets the stage and moves toward “Fallow” where the guitars rise, and the track splits at the middle. The vocals surge and punish while the playing takes hold and tries to move the earth, while clean singing mixes in, adding gothic warmth. The track takes an autumnal turn as moody guitars lather, and savagery blasts out at the finish. “Breathe” lets guitars drip as thick bass comes to life, and anguished cries from Duchemin wail, “I couldn’t bear to call you name.” Anguished shrieks take hold as the guitars surge, the drumming welts, and the track comes to a huge, rushing end. “Vapor” runs 9:37, the longest cut here, and the drums fade over the line with the vocals joining and glazing. Doomy hell unloads as the shrieks penetrate, and your guts are wrenched as you’re tossed back and forth. A strange vibe lands later as cleaner singing tries to soothe, and then the intensity melts steel, returning to crushing psyches as the tempo dizzies and ends in dust.

“Gatekeeper” is propulsive and surging as the shrieks peel paint from the walls, and the leads heat up and add significant pressure. Terrifying cries scramble brains, the playing pummels, and the final gust leaves facial abrasions. “Behold, Five Judges” tumbles in with drums pounding and the playing coming unglued, bringing melody and devastation. The guitar work scorches hard, and the speed increases, making things more combustible as icy speaking works its way down your spine. “Oh-oh-oh” calls reverberate, the tone is mournful, and the track ends in a pit of its own ash. The title track brings agitated guitars, detached speaking, and dreamy sequences that help ice your wounds. Hearty singing sinks into the chorus while the playing rumbles in your chest, and falsetto calls leave your hair standing on end. “Then Silence…” is the final cut, starting with jabbing guitars and then shrieks that make your spine feel crunched. “Body and soul yearns to walk with yours,” is called as the fog gets thicker, and a long numbing stretch puts you into a dream state. The playing then punches back, the bass gets more muscular, and a mix of chaos and gloom unite and burn off like jet fuel.

The Silver have come up with one of the more interesting debut records of the year with “Ward of Roses,” an album that’s not very easy to classify and is better experienced than read about. The band combines so many different elements on this collection, but they do so seamlessly and never in a way that sloppily pastes things together or forces vibes. This is a fascinating record, one that feels like it changes in attitude, mission, and tone every time I hear it, which makes for a stimulating experience.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/collections/pre-orders

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

I’m getting exhausted writing this, and I’m sure you are reading it, but we’re in the midst of one of the toughest stretches most of us ever have experienced, but for some folks, it’s been a bigger level of hell than you can imagine. I understand some of that because my family essentially has been shredded, and even I have not had it as bad as some other people.

This comes up based on “Piecework,” the great new record from Kowloon Walled City, a favorite of ours who have operated under too many radars for too long. While lyrically the songs jump all over, inspired by various musicians and writers, as well as computer science and security, the fact is the album came to be when guitarist/vocalist Scott Evans was dealing with his father’s death. He took solace and lessons from the various women who have had major roles in his life, one being his maternal grandmother who worked at a shirt factory in Kentucky for 40 years as she raised five kids. The album’s title quite obviously is dedicated to her. Themes of death and loss, aging, and family come into play, and the band—Evans is joined by guitarist John Howell, bassist Ian Miller, and drummer Dan Sneddon–ease into their doomy noise rock, getting in and out in about a half hour but leaving their heavy mark on your heart and psyche for sure.

The title track opens the record with thick drubbing, the vocals yowling, which is a familiar component that makes the band feel so comfortable in the heart. The playing slices through as the guitars rinse wounds, the vocals tap at your head, and things trudge, slowly bruising before bleeding away. “Utopian,” partially inspired by Kim Stanley Robinson’s sci-fi novel Red Mars, is even heavier with the bass plodding away. There is misery in the melodies before things briefly work into calmer waters before the storm punches back. The howls pick up the intensity, the bass hammers, and the track bows out to the night. “Oxygen Tent” begins clean with the drums digging the path and then the drubbing arriving as the guitars unhinge their jaws. Dark clouds cover any hint of light as the vocals get punchier, the rumbling intensifies in your chest, and things come to a pummeling end.

“You Had a Plan” has guitars trickling over rocks as Evans’ bark explodes, and the watery ease works its way toward trouble. Leads soar into the atmosphere, harsh howls bruise, and the final notes ring out. “Splicing” is dreary and slurry as it dawns, and the bass chugs again, working toward all-star status on this album. The guitars cut through and increase the already bustling emotion, and then a brief stretch of desolation is jarred by steely guitars, splattering before pounding out. “When We Fall Through the Floor” lumbers as the playing flexes its muscles, and the thickening heat starts working its way through the cracks. “What’s hidden in the floor?” Evans calls repeatedly as the guitars lap and lather in doomy juices, and the drums stand alone as the track fades. “Lampblack” is the closer and opens in sullen mood, with the guitars beginning to churn and smoke. “You’ll never get away that way,” Evans accuses, with the heaviness weighing down, pummeling along with the bass snarling dangerously and the track turning into exhaust that fades into the air.

Kowloon Walled City has been a little underappreciated by just about everyone, but every time out, the band churns out a workmanlike mix of post-hardcore, doom, and noise rock. “Piecework” is another great building block by the band, an emotional, jabbing dagger to your ribs just to wake you from any sense of apathy. Worked into this is very human pain to which we all can relate and likely all have experienced in some form, and this record works to make that emotion a little more tangible.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.neurotrecordings.com/store

Or here: https://gileadmedia.net/products/kowloon-walled-city-piecwork-lp-pre-order

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

And here: https://gileadmedia.net/

Wildfires in California are not a new phenomenon, but it seems like they’ve been picking up the intensity and violence the past few years, with 2020’s making worldwide headlines amid a pandemic and a nation embroiled in demonstrations over police brutality. Last year was record-setting for wildfires in California, costing 33 lives and $12 billion in damages. But yeah, the environment is just fine.

Those fires weren’t just watched on television and the internet; people living in those areas obviously witnessed these disasters in real time, one of those being Shantel Amundson, whose Illudium has returned with their second record “Ash of the Womb” that directly was inspired by the blazes. She watched her home state turn into a strange murk while events in her own life also were simmering in tension, and it will come as no surprise that the songs on this album are darker and more foreboding than what was on debut “Septem,” sometimes making it feel like you’re working your way through a blanket of smoke. On these songs—she was joined on the record by bassist Josef Hossain-Kay and drummer Gregory Wesenfeld (who has since been replaced by Trevor Deschryver)—she weaves in tales and personal reflection that are heavy both musically and emotionally and also add to the gaze and gothic underpinnings of many dark music pools from which she extensively drinks.  

“Aster” slowly dawns as cold, dark waters flow, while Amundson’s voice floats above everything, bringing heavy shadows. The power kicks in as the ice slowly melts, creating tributaries that stretch into gaze, more bursts, and ethereal vocals that soothe the mind. “Sempervirens” starts nestled in nature as quiet guitars and numbing bass awaken, then a propulsive pace arrives and shakes things up, buzzing and bubbling before pounding. A sense of tranquility arrives as Amundson’s voice flutters, and then the tempo unloads as the force increases, only to give way to softer guitars and a never-ending haze. “Soma Sema” releases inky patterns and then some heavier blows as the vocals hypnotize, and a steely, reverberating ambiance takes over. The push and pull continues as the band plays with soft and hard areas before they thrash, sparking jolts and unleashing mesmerizing clouds cover quiver and dissolve.

“Ātopa” runs 9:06 and enters with guitars driving and Amundson’s voice putting you in a trance, feeling like it’s letting you work your way down a stream before the thunder strikes. The power lets the song spread its wings, lightly storming, remaining fluid and washing up everything with it. The mist really mounts later as the vocals begin to crush hearts, the emotional waves touch down, and everything bleeds into the periphery. “Madrigal” is 9:02 and lets clean guitars collect before the aggression ignites, and even if the singing can be delicate, it definitely leaves a dent in your side. The vocals quivers and your senses go off on their own into the night, roars make your nerves react, and the final moments push off into the sea. “Where Death and Dreams Do Manifest” closes the record and starts gently before the guitars work into your brain, and the playing feels more animalistic. The singing again aligns with your bloodstream, warming your bones as some final fires are agitated, and the guitars gush into time.

Not only are Illudium ridiculously at home on the Prophecy roster, they’re quickly becoming one of their more arresting bands, which “Ash of the Womb” steadily proves. Anyone who worships at the altars of Esben and the Witch, Cocteau Twins, Alcest, Marriages, and groups of that ilk will find themselves in a wonderful home awash in personal darkness. This is a powerful album that will have its way with your emotions and never let you forget that experience.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/illudium-ash-of-the-womb

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

This past summer, the Pacific Northwest was overcome with residual smoke that wafted over the region from wildfires burning in places such as Washington, Idaho, and Oregon. Adding a climate that’s consistently shifting to warmer temperatures (fuck off, if you’re shaking your head in denial), it made the problem that much worse and created some surreal and horrifying environmental issues.

Long-running atmospheric black metal band Alda are native to that region (hailing from Tacoma, Wash.) and have spent the bulk of their run creating music that basks in the majesty of their natural surroundings. But on “A Distant Fire,” the band’s fourth record and first in six years (their last was 2015’s “Passages”), the band—vocalist/drummer Michael Korchonnoff, guitarists Timothy Brown and Jace Bruton, bassist Stephanie Bruton—warns of a dire future that impacts us all as we watch fire glow in the distance, ash falling on us from the skies. We have not been kind to our home, and capitalistic bullshit and political theater have prevented us from really taking this seriously, which is a stupefying thing to realize. And here we are, watching the world burn as we stare into hazy skies, wondering how toxic the air and our surroundings are becoming.  

“First Light” dawns, an instrumental open with clean guitars and a rustic atmosphere, giving off an autumnal, deep forest vibe as it works into “Stonebreaker” that rushes open and quickly blisters. The emotion is unavoidable as the band delivers a catapulting haze and infectious energy that gets into your bloodstream. There’s a push and pull, as the tempo goes from slow to stormy, and later, the riffs have their way and race toward you, your heart rushes, and the wild cries rustle through the leaves, coming out of a deluge into a final passage that basks in serenity. “Drawn Astray” runs 10:19, the second-longest track here, and it marries acoustics with an air-infusive haze before the guitar work begins to charge. The shrieks rain down and punish while the leads stretch and deliver great energy, angling into a brief trickle where you can catch your breath. Clean calls send chills before the track explodes, the fury spreads, and the clouds open and drench the ground, bowing out to quiet guitars.

“Forlorn Peaks” stretches 9:40 and swims in burning guitars and rushing growls, bringing unquestioned intensity that makes the earth shake. The guitars cut into flesh again, blistering as they make up a huge portion of this massive assault, eventually melting into a mid-tempo gust that keeps the waters bubbling, with the different shades coming unglued. The vocals smash, the guitar work agitates blazes, and the track dissolves into instrumental interlude “Loo-Wit” that settles into rustling explosions, strummed guitars, and a cooling temperature. “A Distant Fire” is the 16:37-long closer that starts with acoustics and clean singing, heartfelt guitars, and eventually an active gust that brings in the power. The track is shredded as savage howls aim toward the gut while the band keeps battling, aggravating the fires they have tended all along this record. Calls ring out as the pace comes to life, the melodies hurtle, and the mounting pressure comes to a head and mixes into a synth murk, washing into acoustics and crackling fires that make up the album’s final resting place.

Alda long have paid homage to nature and the breathtaking world that surrounds them in the Pacific Northwest, but on “A Distant Fire,” we get a more troublesome look, one that doesn’t necessarily have a healthy future. It’s no question we live in uncertain times, and our world is in need of protection more than ever, but so many seem hesitant to lift a finger to help. The fires are building, the smoke is thickening, and if we aren’t better stewards, there could be a time where the elements we need to survive turn against us for good.

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

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

Or here (Europe): https://store.eisenton.de/en/

For more on the label, go here: https://www.eisenton.de/