Today isn’t really going to be a great one on this site for any hardcore Christians, though I can’t imagine there are a ton of those in this audience. The scourge this faith has had on this nation alone is disgusting and devastating, as it’s used as a means and an excuse for stripping away rights from people and has been used to justify unspeakable violence and hide horrifying sex crimes for-fucking-ever.

Not that Black Eucharist necessarily have the social impact of organized religion in their crosshairs on crushing debut record “Inn of the Vaticide,” focusing on the destruction of a prophet. Yeah, I think you know the one. This is grim, fiery black metal with a death mission, and yeah, it’s a trope for black metal to float in these bloody waters, but this band—vocalist/guitarist Infestor, bassist Gravepisser, drummer/vocalist Shemhamforash—makes you believe in their mission. These tracks feel like they’re aiming to slice jugulars in half, waging a war against a religion that itself has a body county and has led many from a profession of faith to a campaign of hatred. Anyway, yeah. This is utter blackness.  

“Black Ejaculate” opens the record, and it’s the name this band operated under before going to their current moniker. A Bible reading starts before things gets warped and ugly, the blackening skies opening and pouring blood. Raw howls destroy as the power stampedes, vicious hell lays waste to everything in front of it, and snarling devastation melts into a pile of filth. “Deflowering Jerusalem” plasters with flattening playing and the growls eating away, going into a delirious attack. Gargantuan mashing works at your psyche, crushing all the way to the end. “Drowned Flock” brings charred riffs and thrashy chaos, the guitars making blood boil and bubble. A battering ram is unleashed as everything feels like a blast furnace roaring in your face, a warped hymn carrying the playing into terror. The title track arrives with piledriving force, absolutely slaughtering with madness, bringing absolute menace. Maniacal strength and crazed wails increase their intensity as massive power swallows peace whole, and a stymying assault brings a pulverizing end.

“The Soiled Crucifix” is a quick instrumental with whipping winds, strange synth bringing a trancey vibe, and the temperature making your mental health feel in question. “Broken Staff of the Shepherd” is the longest track at 8:08, and it feels humid and punishing at the start, the growls digging into wounds, and then everything tears open into a full-fledged assault. The playing is blinding as the teeth sink into necks, the vocals massacre, and delirious playing makes your balance something completely out of your control. Scorching hell meets up with flattening darkness, stoking fires and bringing a vicious ending. “Ziziphus Paliurus” torches from the start but also packs some melodic guitar work, making it the most approachable track on the record. But it’s still feral as hell, tormenting while it infects, channeling poisoned pressure that leaves blood behind. Closer “A Foul Stench Lingers at Peor” is animalistic as it speeds and trashes, plying you with dizzying playing that absolutely unloads. Mangling, warping jolts strike as riffs destroy, punishment cascades, and angelic horrors are painted across the sky.

Black Eucharist bring metallic vulgarity and scornful anger on “Inn of the Vaticide,” a record the world utterly needs right now as organized religion, in this case Christianity, tries to force itself on people and corrupt laws in this very country. This is a filthy, unquestioned attack on that machine, something that likely will upset your Trump loving neighbor, and good because fuck that guy. Prepare for ugliness, violence, and terror, a record that will leave your heart burnt to a crisp.

For more on the band, go here: https://blackeucharist.bandcamp.com/album/cum-soaked-messiah

To buy the album, go here: https://stygianblackhand.bandcamp.com/album/inn-of-the-vaticide

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

Generally, I’m a proponent of as well as fan of bands that deliver records where they get in, do their damage, and get out, leaving me wanting more. But that doesn’t always apply, and it’s definitely not something that should be applied across the board. Take doom, for example. It’s best served in longer, more demanding sessions, a trek that makes you feel every bump and pull of the journey.

We’ve long been a fan of German crushers Eremit, whose body of work began in 2018 and has stretched over two challenging, rewarding full-length albums, a stunning EP, and a few other releases. But their third long player “Wearer of Numerous Forms” is a beast of a different name, clocking in at a massive two hours, 13 minutes, and every one of those ticks is worth your time. The band—vocalist/guitarist Moritz Fabian, guitarist Pascal “Kalle” Sommer, drummer Marco Baecker, and brand-new trumpet player Hendrik “Brede” Bredemann—finishes off their trilogy that began on “Carrier of Weight” about a hermit lost in an endless ocean with this massive adventure that, believe it or not, will leave you yearning for more. This album does not feel as lengthy as it is, and it is a crowning achievement for this band that should be a household name for all doom fans if there is any justice in the world.

“Conflicting Aspects of Reality” is the colossal 63:47 opener, and most bands would have cut it with just that song. Not Eremit, and for good reason. The band starts battering right away, not worrying about pacing themselves just yet and coming at you with barbaric strength. The guitars spiral and sting as much as they sludge in spots, and the harrowing cries scrape wounds. The doom trumpets fire as blackness spreads and wretches, crushing and developing a disorienting haze that eventually meets up with a long instrumental section that plays with quieter tones, often not rising much above notes that drop like a ball of lava into water. The playing blasts back in and then takes on a meaty drone, bruising and glowing, cutting through a thick fog. The ground shakes as the growls envelope, bringing misery and fury, the growls hammering away at psyches, the fuzz  building to a dangerous level. Howls crunch, weird shrieks strike, and doom power crushes in the dark, disappearing into a vicious storm cloud.

“Entombed in a Prism of Blindness” is the “mini” track of the bunch, clocking in at 21:27 and opening the lid to hell. The playing mauls and spits brutality, smearing and corroding, the growls aiming to bury your face in the cinders. The slowly dripping torture then collides with smashing hulking, shrieks tearing minds apart, the power utterly melting. Howls rip and the playing drubs, bleeding into closer “Passages of Poor Light” that runs 47:17. The track emerges in a calculated fashion, letting the heat accumulate as the devastation gets urgent, the growls digging into your chest. A heavy, colorful fog stretches over everything, the destruction suffocating all forces pouring from the mouth. The playing feels like it’s floating in darkness before the explosions happen, the growls making flesh crawl, sounds quivering with crushing weight. Sorrow grows and makes your chest well with emotion, leads re-emerge and melt faces, and suddenly it feels like you’re surrounded. The playing buzzes and trudges, and then things speed up violently, spitting fire and gutting opposing forces, acting as a battering ram. Bodies come apart, noise levels get uncomfortably piercing, and the final embers glimmer before disappearing for good.

Eremit created their crowning achievement with “Wearer of Numerous Forms,” an absolute beast of a record. Over more than two hours, this band unfurls a document that will be a sub-genre calling card well into the future, one of those records you just have to experience to believe it. For as much content as this album holds, there is not fat to be trimmed and only a complete feast of doom that will keep you nourished and satisfied for an incredibly long time.   

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

To buy the album, go here: https://fuckingkillrecords.bandcamp.com/album/eremit-wearer-of-numerous-forms

Or here: https://allswordsburn.bandcamp.com/album/wearer-of-numerous-forms

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

It’s late spring here in the U.S., and with summer on our doorstep (it was 90 degrees here last week), it also brings with it the possibility of gusty and dangerous storms. But there are more cataclysmic events that are not the result of nature, and that’s the storming that goes on in our minds, something that can be so forceful, it can make taking on a new day a monumental challenge.

Danish doom veterans Saturnus finally have returned with their incredible new record “The Storm Within,” a collection that is awash in crashing waves, an angry sea, and violent precipitation soaking the ground. But they match that to our experiences of anger, loss, pain, and other dark elements, and being immersed in that can feel like battling waves we have no prayer to conquer. The band—vocalist Thomas A.G. Jensen, guitarists Indee Rehal-Sagoo and Julio Fernandez, bassist Brian Hansen, drummer Henrik O. Glass, keyboardist/pianist Mika Ditlev Gyldenøhr Filborne—envelope you with melodic, melancholic doom metal that leaves the heart and mind soaked and shivering from the cold. It’s a masterful collection that makes the 11 years we faced without a new Saturnus record feel like a drop in the bucket over the mental and physical force you feel in the music. It’s an incredible record you cannot shake, even long after the music has come to an end.

The title track opens in thunder and rain, feeling properly seasonal, which is fitting, and the playing gently dawns. It’s not long before Jensen’s wrenching growls become a factor as the murkiness develops, speaking passages taking place of the grisliness in spots. Melodies soar as the guitars drip, the temperatures later melting, feeling gothy as growls lay waste, and the essence returns to the clouds. “Chasing Ghosts” is the second-longest track (12 seconds shorter than the opener) and begins amid echoing guitars and cold speaking, everything feeling reflective and dour. Growls wrench as the doomy waters thicken, corrosion eats into the heart, and the thorniness is calculated but direct, slipping into calmer air. The playing opens anew and bubbles viciously, the leads coming in thicker layers, sadness bleeding through fabric smearing into dirt. “The Calling” explodes at a faster pace, great leads glowing, a melodic chorus adding even more color. The cloudiness thickens as the growls begin to gut, the playing mauls, and the leads gust, injecting energy and glory to end this awesome track with power.

“Even Tide” features Paul Kuhr of Novembers Doom adding guest vocals, and this track enters with keys dropping, speaking cutting into your heart, haunting darkness spreading and infecting. “I wonder why this long I survived,” is howled as strings layer, adding to the misery. “Every time I try to go, the waves bring me home,” Jensen calls as the vocals pull back and forth from both singers, the pain finally bowing out. “Closing the Circle” runs 9:20 and mixes into the fog, the leads engulfing, the growls eating into flesh and organs. Solemn guitars slip in as the pain engulfs, the fire scorching, the leads swallowing everything whole as blood rushes to the skull. The growls rush back as the pain blisters, adding to the pain by running your face into the flames. “Breathe New Life” has guitars hovering overhead and the growls applying pressure, laying in punches as the keys glaze and confound. Guitars burst as the barometric energy moves into storm phase, the pace pummels, and the heaviness takes a few more strips of flesh before fading. Closer “Truth” begins with chilling keys, speaking sending jolts down the spine, and everything fully opening about three minutes into the cut. The playing lurches and drags you into shadows, crushing while the guitars harness energy, letting the pain increase. Dark speaking and menacing growls eat into the psyche while fluid playing cause waves to rise, spilling into rustic acoustics that let cool breezes soothe your skin after another battle with your own mind.

The harsh sea, the winds whipping, your own wounds festering are easy to confront when taking on “The Storm Within” as all of those elements are served in large, menacing doses. An 11 -year absence did nothing to eat away at Saturnus’ power, and their stranglehold on melancholic doom is at its apex on this incredible collection. The pain is still served in generous portions, and this band’s ability to make music that has optimal emotional impact remains dangerously intact.  

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://us.spkr.media/

Or here (Europe): https://en.spkr.media/

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

Not everything from the pandemic was a negative, which feels weird to say considering the lives that were lost, which was the worst effect of the global disease. But people used that time for productive means as well as not being able to go places and being locked in your own domain can force the creative juices because what else were you going to do?

Aussie doom pounders Witchskull made good use of that time by tightening the gears of their own machine and working on their awesome new record “The Serpent Tide,” their fourth. This eight-track album is fiery from the start, unloading traditional doom, stoner tendencies, and some truly gritty terrain that makes your mind and body feel like it had a workout. The band—guitarist/vocalist Marcus De Pasquale, bassist Tony McMahon, drummer Joel Green—stitched dark storytelling and strange vibes into the music that sounds perfectly situated in 2023 but also acts as sort of a tour through doom’s history, adding tastes and flavors that pay homage and work to make the sub-genre a more devastating place.

“Tyrian Dawn” kicks off in the mud, bludgeoning and mashing, the singing adding an extra level of dirt. Guitars chug and char and add a meaty energy while the playing digs deep and exposes vulnerable flesh. “Obsidian Eyes” starts with the drums pacing before a molten swagger takes hold, the singing letting everything around it take over. The bass encircles and coils to strike as the riffs maul, the howls add insult to injury, and everything comes to a forceful end. “Sun Carver” is mystical and trancey when it enters, digging in with a breezier approach and the singing soaring. Doomy blasts then begin to truck and leave grease marks as the soloing scorches, charring flesh before the track ends in a blur. “Bornless Hollow” starts with drums lacing, molten heaviness covering everything in its path. Fuzzy bass rears its head, the singing bruises, and the guitars scuff, making for a bluesy, catchy final serving of power.

“The Serving Ritual” starts with the bass trampling and the playing rampaging, the singing spat out as the faster pace makes everything feel more urgent. Psychedelic heat warps your senses as electric power drags skulls, catching fire and filling lungs with soot. The title track heats up right away, the singing stretching as the grit accumulates dangerously. The vocals liquify as the psyche elements increase, pounding flesh and letting the humidity make things sticky and uninhabitable. “Misery’s Horse” gallops into the scene and instantly starts crushing skulls, the start/stop playing making your stomach juices slosh around. The guitars soar and sizzle as the playing thrashes even harder, melting bones and burying everything in a pile of discarded limbs. “Rune of Thorn” closes things with strong riffs, the singing wrenching, and a smearing pace making breathing nearly impossible. The bass tramples as the pace continues the beating, the band pushes its playing to the limits, and everything rides off into the darkness.

“The Serpent Tide” is a fiery, lava-spewing record from these Aussies, something you can put on and let wash over you, the power taking you to the limit. Witchskull made the best of the downtime from the past few years when we were all locked down to make themselves a fitter, punchier machine that cranks out energetic jolts that fry brains and inhibitions. This is a great, fun record that gets in, does its damage, and exits, leaving everything blistered in its wake.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://riseaboverecords.com/product/the-serpent-tide/

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

It’s very easy to get caught up in our problems and tap out because it’s easier to give up than do the work. That sounds backward, but it’s true, and people who can pick themselves up off the mat, wipe the blood and spit from their mouth, and start over again are to be admired, their demons and issues be damned. Healing is real, and we should honor those who climb that mountain.

It would not be shocking if Royal Thunder no longer existed as an entity today. Based on the bio materials that accompany their incredible comeback record “Rebuilding the Mountain,” the band’s members—vocalist, bassist Mlny Parsonz,guitarist Josh Weaver, drummer Evan Diprima—fell victim to what has claimed so many others in their place, that being substance abuse issues. That’s a monster that has no mercy, that only finds ways to keep you captive, and it almost did that to these gifted musicians. Luckily for them, and us as listeners and fans, all three got clean, and much of what they faced is documented on this 10-track album. It’s no surprise then that the songs are brimming with life, the band sounding as channeled and passionate as ever, each track holding a gift or surprise that makes blood rush. It’s a triumphant statement for a band that could have given up, given in, and become another statistic. They didn’t let that happen, and all hails to them for their determination and strength, even if this record never happened. They exist, they thrive, and that’s what matters most. But we do have new music, and it’s a barnburner!

“Drag Me” begins the record on a mid-tempo note, though don’t mistake that for lacking power. That would be a huge mistake. “I sit high above the ether, will you ever forgive me?” Parsonz calls, the pain evident, as the guitars heat up and burn darkly, the power settling with organs vibrating, everything draining into a psychedelic dream. “The Knife” has a tempered start before really kicking in, Parsonz’s singing sounding as powerful as they ever have. “This blood bath is filling, and I promise myself I will do better, and I think it’s time,” Parsonz calls as guitars layer, and the impact is made and sinks in deeply.  “Now Here-Nowhere” is gritty and challenging, forceful vocals leaving bruising, the guitars glazing and welling in echo. The emotions are thick and powerful, everything spinning out into a vortex. “Twice” is both active and moody, Parsonz’s singing digging into your chest, the pace mostly lacerating but also breezy in spots. “I’ve been waiting a long time to help you win this fight, and I know that you will,” Parsonz wails with defiance, the playing basking in deep sunburn. “Pull” takes a different pace and slowly builds, the vocals wrenching. “It’s not impossible, I’m in control,” Parsonz wails, the final minutes hitting a murmur, the curtain dropping on this short, but effective cut.

“Live to Live” slowly emerges, and it’s moodier, letting the temperature rise along the way. Parsonz’s voice booms with power, sorrowful guitars add painful layers, and the volume begins to bubble dangerously before pulling back and letting your sore heart finally get some rest. “My Ten” quivers as the bass drives, and the playing is faster and more direct, leaving you gasping in the dust. “Open your eyes, are you feeling alright? You were calling from the other side,” Parsonz wails as the guitars aggravate fires, swirling out in a hypnotic echo. “Fade” has more of a ’90s rock feel, helping this sit apart from the pack. The guitars char as speedy energy ignites in chests, the nostalgic vibe eating into your brain as Parsonz calls, “I’ll keep the score from yesterday, this ain’t no dream, I’m wide awake,” as the track blasts out. “The King” is both moody and jolting, electricity racing through your veins with Parsonz adding to that by just opening her mouth. The guitars slink as the rhythmic elements pound away, everything flexing and tearing new wounds, the heartiness nourishing every one of your mental woes. Closer “Dead Star” is dark and absorbing, Parsonz wailing, “I run and try to keep your far away from my heart, a brilliant gem reflecting the fire’s flame.” The playing pushes and pulls the tempo, reclaiming the heat, adding punchier force, and everything is swallowed into the heart of the universe.

Royal Thunder sound like a band rejuvenated on “Rebuilding the Mountain,” a title that obviously wasn’t chosen at random. The pain and personal struggles that could have consumed the band’s members instead have turned their mission around and back on the right track. It’s great to hear these three artists so channeled and passionate, and this should be a building block to an even brighter future.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://spinefarm.merchnow.com/collections/royal-thunder?fbclid=IwAR13F1c8ERlFdHr_y67C8R9tofBvNECArDf27pVV579UWIxLj-R8u1YIUGM

Or here (Europe): https://spinefarm.tmstor.es/?lf=c952d71320872fa0b05bae9adb9a479e&fbclid=IwAR13F1c8ERlFdHr_y67C8R9tofBvNECArDf27pVV579UWIxLj-R8u1YIUGM

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

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/

Over humanity’s run as a dominant force here on Earth, we’ve continually found new and disgusting ways to destroy each other, especially when it comes to capital punishment. Or just our interrogation tactics. There are plenty of them we can look back on that no longer are in use (um, at least not right now), and it’s wild some of the ways we dealt agony and punishment to fellow humans.

Portland death metal destroyers Torture Rack take their name from a particularly heinous device used centuries ago (again, not totally counting out some asshole will revive this thing), and their music has a violent force that stretches and bludgeons until the point of submission. On the band’s gnarly third record “Primeval Onslaught,” their first in five years, they use 10 smothering, unforgiving tracks to leave welts and bruising to go along with the psychological torment. This menacing force—bassist/vocalist JG, guitarists Pierce and Tony, drummer Seth—that also weaves chaos in bands including Witch Vomit, Cemetery Lust, and Dagger Lust, turn up the heat and pushes your physical boundaries to the limit, leaving only screaming and begging as a means to cut off the pain.

“Ceremonial Flesh Feast” just opens bowels right away, no fucking around, as growls crush and guitars trudge, hacking off slabs of meat. Leads go off and scorch, sinking into bone, and then the final gusts rip into “Decrepit Funeral Home,” one of my favorite song titles of the year. The track bludgeons and smashes skulls, the pace engulfing with flames, blinding and stomping. Echoes tingle as the deadly force rampages, blasting out into a hellish furnace. “Forced From the Pit” savages with splattering playing and growls spat with violence, the speed igniting and ramming full force into a brick wall. Drums destroy as the pace thrashes, guitars going for the throat, the force melting faces. “Morning Star Massacre” is 50 seconds of maniacal energy, crunching and bruising, wasting everything in front of it with nuclear force. “Victims of Inquisitors” opens with drums boiling and mashing playing bruising your insides, the guitar work absolutely going off. The force blows back heat, twisting flesh and crushing wills.

“Bone Snare” punches in and just mauls, the growls lacing, and the forces act like a battering ram. The playing is thick and crushing, a muscular force that defaces with malice. “Fucked By Death” runs a slim, trim 1:16, and it wastes no time, drums speeding along, the bass thickening and trampling, and the guitar work scorching as it goes off the rails. “Impalement Storm” dawns with vocals vomited out, the playing going a mile a second, the guitars carving tributaries into bodies. The path is vicious and scraping, the sludging picks up steam and mass, and the slash and burn continues until it succumbs to its own smoke cloud. “Descent Into Infernal Chasms” mangles as the growls waste you, and the drums destroys lives. The mashing decimates sense as the vicious dust-up buries energy in the dirt. Closer “Rotting Insignificance” immediately crushes and strangles brain impulses, delivering massive pressure that continues to build its presence. Wounds are continually opened and left to fester as the clubbing force keeps swinging haymakers, leaving eyes blackened and swollen.

“Primeval Onslaught” is death metal at its most primitive, raw form, which Torture Rack continue to do at a violent clip that’s almost threatening. This is grim but also fun, a blast to hear as these heathens do their best to make this experience as uncomfortable and rotting as it is pleasingly devastating. This is music with nothing but the worst in mind, not afraid to assault you and drag you into the woods, begging for your miserable life.   

For more on the band, go here: https://torturerack.bandcamp.com/album/barbaric-persecution

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

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

Everyone has a path to travel in life, and often times we veer to other tributaries because the mission we’re on changes, or our inhibitions do. Along the way, we face struggles, and the way we react to those things depends on a lot of different factors, not all of them being things we can control. In turn, our actions and behaviors not only lean into our own lives but into that of friends, families, even strangers.

French black metal force Aodon use their new record “Portraits” (their third) to help tell some of these stories, each track named after a fictional or real character and the factors they face. The band—vocalist/guitarist/drummer M-Kha, guitarist Laurent C., bassist Alix R.—unleashes their brand of atmospheric power and chaos over these nine tracks, visiting subject matters such as misery, addiction, violence, belief systems, abuse, and many other forces that transform what these characters become. These tracks burst with life, fiery ambition, and emotional caterwaul, doing their best to help you live alongside these people and where their decisions take them along the way.  

“Swen” unloads with a melodic surge, shrieks raining down as the fog thickens dangerously. Energy gushes as the intensity continues to multiply, moving in and out of clouded obscurity before unleashing an infectious assault before melting into chaos. “Egon” is frosty and spiraling, delivering fast riffs and assaulting the senses, making blood and adrenaline spike. Vicious howls echo as guitars spill and create a mystical sensation, bowing to the fire before a blistering finish. “Mayerson” starts with the drums gutting, creating confusion and numbness as the splattering moves into a frost front. The playing sprawls as the fires spread, energy gushes with volcanic force, and final explosive jolts tie a morbid bow on everything. “Adam” crushes right off the bat as the guitars wrench, the playing dive bombing mercilessly. The pace is savage but catchy, decimating chaos spreading its wings, a frosty finish leaving all functioning warm cells frozen.

“Miquella” dawns with force as the drums blister, thunderous playing making bones quake. The playing sprawls as the guitars drip, thrashing menace making muscles ache, shrieks hammering with precision  before the track flows to a gutting end. “Andreas” feels more welcoming until guitars explode, and a stirring, tornadic pace scrambles your senses. A melodic flood generates excitement and chaos at the same time, melting into clean playing that flows over you, and then everything combusts, with the track ending in total destruction. “Liza” rips open, the vicious screams making their presence felt, the smashing sentiment raining down. Fog spreads and obscures vision as raw howls dig into flesh, the playing scorching and leaving flesh red and swollen. “Inaki” brings a guitar rush and flushing melodies, setting up an atmospheric haul that then twists the knife. Air and power are abundant as the playing builds and cascades, bleeding out into closer “Sheelagh” that starts off with a breezier approach. Gazey layering turns into menace as guttural howls devastate, battering power loosens the screws, and a blasting push makes footing unstable, landing gut punches before fading away.

While “Portraits” may be a character play involving real or imagined characters, Aodon find ways to lace their realities into each of our own. There’s not one of us who have not been impacted or influenced by these actions or emotions, and being able to identify with that gives this record even more weight. That’s not even addressing the power of the music contained here, which is some of Aodon’s finest, an album that explodes inside your chest and mind and rearranges where everything once stood.

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

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

For more on the label, go here: https://www.willowtip.com/home.aspx