True crime is a burgeoning industry as you can find tons of podcasts about the subject, and there are entire television channels that do nothing but run shows on the worst people imaginable. Heavy metal also has feasted upon this matter, be it fictional or real characters, and the bloodshed is something that’s basically baked into the genre’s DNA.

Perhaps no better example comes with Japanese doom power Church of Misery, a project long helmed by bassist/lyricist Tatsu Mikami that has returned with “Born Under a Mad Sign,” their first new album in seven years (“And Then There Were None…” landed in 2016, seemingly a bygone era). These seven tracks that spread over 50 minutes are brimming with attitude and chaos, digging deep into the psyches of the most heinous creatures ever to walk the earth. This time, Mikami teams up with vocalist Kazuhiro Asaeda, drummer Toshiaki Umemura, and session guitarist Yukito Okazaki to create these firebreathers that take what Sabbath started decades ago and burns into a disfigured yet still recognizable stump that is then soaked in blood and bile. It’s filthy and devastating, something that leaves marks behind.

“Beltway Sniper (John Allen Muhammad)” starts with chilling news coverage of the shootings before the song trudges open with attitude, grisly singing and sweltering heat making formidable partners. The playing swims in bluesy edginess and sludge, letting the heat spread like the fear over these killers, the leads melting and increasing the tension before bleeding out. “Most Evil (Fritz Harmann)” zeroes in on the German serial killer, and his face adorns the cover of the album. The swampy feel makes breathing tougher, and the singing punishes, pushing you face first into the muck and peeling back flesh. Bells chime as the playing gets more muscular, the drums mangle flesh, and the wah-infused soloing wilts flesh, burying you in madness that won’t let you free. “Freeway Madness Boogie (Randy Kraft)” is based on the U.S. killer who is alive to this day, and it tears open with blistering power, smoking and devastating as the singing punishes. Later, things get bluesy and chunky, the soloing takes off, the playing shuffles and takes you under, the title howled repeatedly as the final nails are pounded with force.

“Murder Castle Blues (H.H. Holmes)” focuses on the man who was the focus of books The Devil in the White City (also a film) and American Gothic, and here the bass slinks, the vocals scrape, and the heat intensifies and becomes unmanageable. Bluesy fuzz makes the thickness more impenetrable, start/stop mauling feels like a real-life bludgeoning, and the violence escalates, bringing speedy danger to an ending that practically takes off your head. “Spoiler” doesn’t have a subject matter attached, but it’s no less smashing as anything else on this record. The Sabbath worship is heavy and evident, psyche storming makes the assault even uglier, and the keys glazing plays tricks with your mind and helps you disassociate. Smoke rises as the playing thickens, the playing swelters, and the final moments are hammers to the spine. “Come and Get Me Sucker (David Koresh)” is about the Branch Davidian leader who died in flames with his followers in 1993. You hear his voice at the outset of the song, and then we’re into spiraling, smearing playing and raspy singing, just gutting you mentally. The guitars melt and add smoking leads as the energy pelts, drubbing with power as the final blows leave you in the dirt. Closer “Butcher Baker (Robert Hansen)” focuses on a man who traded in selling baked goods to commit heinous crimes against women in Alaska. Luckily this piece of shit is dead. The playing slinks and destroys, the wah pedal leaves burn marks, and muddy attitude bleeds through the crevices. In fact, the singing sometimes has a Lemmy edge to them, sound clips blistering, the soloing making the temperatures rocket dangerously. The bruising continues as riffs overpower, the vocals boil, and everything ends in a doom blaze that bleeds ashes.

It’s always strange to praise music that is about some of the worst human beings who ever walked the earth, but Church of Misery have devoted their music to these figures since their first EP, exposing their evils to the world. Their mission has remained steady, and “Born Under a Mad Sign” runs roughshod, punishing with psyche-blazed doom metal, strangling with the power of their riffs. This is more devastation from one of the gnarliest bands, no matter the subgenre, and they’re never lacking for inspiration or fury on this smothering record.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://riseaboverecords.com/product/born-under-a-mad-sign/

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