We all face the inevitability of the end, where we cease to exist, never to draw breath again. Look, I complain about this world and the insanity of our everyday existence, but I’m not in any hurry to join the dark void, even though I know it’s coming eventually. That also applies to this planet, which we may be accelerating toward uninhabitability at a clip that could doom generations.

Canadian death metal power Phobocosm remain perfectly aware of the reality of our deaths, of the planet’s end, and that spills into their third album “Foreordained.” This is the final act of a triptych started on their 2014 debut “Deprived” and carried over into 2016’s “Bringer of Drought” that now, seven years later, finally gets its conclusion. The band—vocalist/bassist E.B., guitarist S.D., drummer J.S.G.—views the finality of death and the pointlessness of trying to avoid such certainty and uses that to make their brand of death metal uglier, more morose, and even more imaginative at times. This is a powerful record that hopefully doesn’t get lost due to the December release date because it’s an absolute mauler any death metal fan should devour whole.

“Premonition” opens in noise and a death haze, the growls rumbling in the Earth’s belly, slowly burning and pounding, The darkness retches while foreboding chaos brews and heads into 10:12-long brawler “Primal Dread” that is blistering and beastly as it dawns. The playing is cavernous and crushing, mauling its way along dark, muddy paths, grinding its gears in ugly fury. The growls mar as the pace lurches, guitars hang in the air, and a noxious fog gets thicker and more penetrative, laying waste to everything and disorienting with thousands of pounds of muck. “Everlasting Void” tears into flesh, animalistic growls pull apart muscles, and the drumming comes unglued. The playing is chunky and mashes even harder, the leads scorch, and the hammers drive more aggressively, turning everything to dust.

“Infomorph” stabs its way in, showing aggression and anger, the growls mauling as the track turns into a total slaughter. The drums blast as bloody hell is reached, causing confusion as the pace turns to a slow burn before breaking out and burying with power. The tempo pulverizes, torching without mercy, and blazing into “Revival” that opens with guitars destroying. Growls smear as the pressure builds, vile playing making the skies grow darker, driving with inescapable horrors. The guitars then incinerate while the growls clobber harder, melting minds and crumbling away. “For an Aeon” is the 7:21-long closer, beginning with daring riffs that go for broke, death carving into cranial cavities, and complete decimation being achieved. The track explodes as demolition and melodic surging unite, creating something both disgusting and glorious. The band burns the rest of the way, sweltering with power and noises that sting and hover, leaving burnt paths behind.

We all know where we’re headed in the end, and Phobocosm send a stark reminder in the most brutal fashion possible on “Foreordained,” the final piece of this trilogy. This band always is a formidable beast with which to be reckoned, and they’ve upped their game so much over the past few years, that they have to be considered when discussing this era’s premier death metal bands. This is a late-year dose of destruction that’s swarming with chaos and throws that jab to the psyche that our time here is short.  

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.darkdescentrecords.com/shop/?orderby=date&paged=1&s=phobocosm&post_type=product

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

It’s never a comfortable or enjoyable experience when we’re forced to contend with the things that ail us in order to find a path toward healing. For example, exposure therapy for someone suffering from anxiety consists of confronting our fears that contribute to that state in order for the experiences to become more normal so our difficulties can lessen over time. It works, but it sucks.

That same thing can be true for contemplation and reflection after going through a period of darkness, something this is slathered all over “Catharsis,” the new record from Portuguese post-metal trio Music in Low Frequencies. So, just to address the obvious elephant in the room, their acronym is MILF, but don’t let that fool you into thinking their music isn’t deadly serious. The band—vocalist/synth player Mariana Faísca, guitarist Sergio Ferreira, drummer Diogo Machado do Vale—brings abject heaviness and sobering realities with this, their second full-length, and the journey they take to address the issues that have caused such darkness is enriching and powerful.

“Web of Questions” starts with the guitars slicing in, shrieks punching, and a burly, bruising pressure building that threatens to maim. Melodies also roam as the playing lathers with energy, fires rage and then settle, and then the crunch makes an impact as heavy breathing gasps. Synth spins off, sending the energy to the cosmos, spacious guitars exhale, and everything ends in thick sludge. “Unborn Pride” is sooty with throaty howls barreling, the air being pumped in generous proportions. Shrieks rain down as a hardcore-smeared approach adds to the bruising, getting tougher as the playing mangles, adding thorny jolts that leave blood on the floor. “Steel” is melodic and fierce, howling swimming through gutting guitars, a muddy force flexing its muscle. Muddy playing does bruising as the growls open up stomachs, torching with punishing, yet atmospheric tenacity.

“The Right Way” basks in synth beams, forceful singing, and a battering force that hangs in the air. A clip from Carl Sagan’s “A Pale Blue Dot” works into your psyche, and out of that is a menacing, emotional swell complete with throaty howls and brutal savagery that leaves charred bones. “Unconsciousness” ramps up and has clean singing, vicious bursts tearing through bone, guitars hovering and bringing alien-like heaviness. Fiery wails and shrieks hammer flesh, guitars flood, and the carnage is washed away. “Starving the Weak” enters in blurry keys and dripping guitars, cloudy murk cascading before the growls blast. Fires haunt as cosmic swirls create a dizzying effect, the vocals pound away, and keys drain as the heartbeat echoes into time. Closer “This Corpse” seemingly runs 14:43, but it’s a red herring of sorts. The playing fires up as the growls crush, driving into foggy roadways that barely let even a glimmer of light any room to shine. The playing gushes and simmers, the energy trudges and kicks up mud and bone, and a heavy cloud cover obscures the sound and drains away. But after minutes of silence, the playing re-emerges, though it’s a cover of Marilyn Manson’s “Coma White” that brings a numbing end.  

“Catharsis” is a literal title for Music in Low Frequencies, and the musical bloodletting on these seven tracks feel like a spiritual regurgitation and a way to find something soothing in a menacing world. Subsequent trips through the album reveal more layers, places in which to lose yourself as you contemplate the same twists and turns in your own life. The fact this is so pleasingly thunderous and fixated in sounds that seem lured from the cosmos only amplifies that enjoyment and the psychological ability to connect with these songs and make them a part of your own journey.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/music.in.low.frequencies/

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

For more on the label, go here: https://www.ragingplanet.pt/

Getting to the point is a gift, something we here at Meat Mead Metal do not necessarily possess. We try to present a convincing and relatable opening to the music we’re about to discuss, but maybe we should shut the fuck up sometimes. We’re shutting the fuck up.

“The Merciless Storm” is a perfect title for the new EP from Finnish death squad Malicious, who are following their 2020 debut full-length album “Deranged Hexes” with this four-track destroyer. This is a compact, smothering EP that the band—vocalist/guitarist Miska Heikurinen, guitarist Niko Paasonen, bassist/vocalist Paavo Elo. drummer Riku Polameri—injects with force and power with which you cannot contend. Let’s just get into it, yes?

The title track opens in a flurry, guitars storming, fiery shrieks grabbing throats and squeezing relentlessly. The pace is delirious and zany, the howls massacring the senses, guitars tearing out with violent intent, the mangling continuing until the fuel burns away. “Invasive Terror” is blinding, splattering as the guitars catch fire, the manic pace making your blood race as raspy howls leave welts on your flesh. The leads boil and lather as blasts meet up with frenetic energy, blasting all the way to the end. “Ambient Sonic Annihilation” is monstrous, a giant punk gust that strangles and slaughters, a fast and crazed assault that tests your limits. The tempo shifts back as the guitars burst toward the sky, spattering blood as a heavy doom cloud brings the end. Closer “Chronic Quake” explodes and stampedes, delivering maniacal chaos, putting you through the gears without mercy. Guitars burst and head off to the races, melting with crazed fire, clobbering with channeled madness that leaves you flat on your back.

Malicious waste no time pushing your face into the dirt on “Merciless Storm,” about as fitting a title for a release as you’re going to find. The band buries you in filthy, sometimes punk-fueled death metal that doesn’t waste time weakening you and instead goes right for the jugular. This is 11 minutes of utterly deranged torture, a mini blast that’ll take off your head with violence and devastation.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://invictusproductions.net/product-category/invictus-releases/

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

This has been a dark, trying year for so many people, myself included. You could say that about the last few, as it feels like it’s misery on a loop, the harshest of realities making themselves known far too often for comfort. Within all of that pain, there can be glimmers of hope, reminders this state isn’t forever, and one day we might climb out of horror. But being in it can feel as hopeless as anything ever faced.

The music created by Nordic post-metal power Leonov always feels like it connects with that world, a place where it seems like everything is falling down around you, but there’s just enough promise to keep you going just in case the storm ends. The band’s powerful new record “Procession” feels like a beacon in the cold, black night, a place to seek in order to let the bad energies have a place to fade. The band—vocalist/synth player Tåran Reindal, guitarists Ole Jørgen Reindal and Rune Gilje, bassist Morten Kjelling, drummer Jon-Vetle Lunden—sees the suffering and tries to add a layer of relief for those who suffer, while knowing full well that struggle will be a hard one to achieve. This music, harsh and thorny as it can be at times, also is like a companion holding your hand on your journey, acknowledging that path is with its dangerous curves but assuring you that a better way remains possible.

“Rem” is a dark, enveloping instrumental opener, guitars layering, the solemnity welling as the heat rises, increasing the darkness as we head into “Amer” that stings right away. Reindal’s singing floats with the clouds, a steely, dreamy haze getting richer, buzzing as the playing slips into darkness. The pace is ominous even as Reindal’s singing soars, the ambiance floating in the mists, the vocals feeling like honey drizzling gently, and then the chugging renews. Shrieks gut as the doom floods, the mix of ugliness and beauty multiplies, and the final blasts lurch in madness. The title track numbs immediately as Reindal’s singing floats like a ghost, the lush calls mixing perfectly with the rising menace. Guitars buzz as the pace turns propulsive, swirling and snarling, picking up steam as the key hypnotize and fade into fog. “Sora” brings shadowy doom, softer singing, and a rumbling feeling that you can sense in your guts. The band pushes harder as a thick mist envelops, and Reindal’s calls pick up and soar, filling your chest with energy. The emotion overflows as darkness falls, impassioned playing overwhelms, and a heavy exhaust gasps from the song’s center point.

“Mesos” slowly drips as Reindal’s ethereal singing swells, pulling through shadows and embracing grandeur that emerges from behind a wall of sound. “Who says that we won’t make it?” Reindal sings inquisitively, the playing dissolving slowly, continuing to melt and soak the ground with its juices, snaking through gloom before disappearing. “Oreza” brings darker playing, lurking in the shadows, the singing fluttering and reverberating. The pace turns spacey, guitars hurtling through ominous atmosphere, scuffing and menacing as the heaviness turns the screws, finally floating off into the stars. Closer “Son” is a soft, smoky track that brings hushed singing, and a tenderness that is palpable. Clean guitars add soothing waters as Reindal calls, “Tonight, a child is born, to us a son is given,” a sentiment she repeats that obviously holds a world of meaning. Murkiness and dreaminess collide, coating everything with warmth, the playing bathing in moonlit electricity.

“Procession” is that rare heavy music album that manages to act as a soothing agent, even amid the thorns that are woven into the record. Leonov always rose above merely a metal universe and go otherworldly, which they do here in ample amounts, giving an adventure that’s a little different than what we usually cover. This is a perfect record for a dark evening when you want to give your mind a rest, ruminate about your dreams, and release the energies that are weighing you down.

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

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

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

Being a human isn’t exactly an easy thing to pull off for a lot of us. In fact, it can be destructive and callous as we navigate our way through an unforgiving world that is littered with people who don’t give a fuck about anyone but themselves. How does one try to be a decent person knowing all of this and realizing so many people and situations we face aren’t worth that kind of positive energy?

That’s a question Andrew Black is trying to answer with his black metal project Litha that is releasing its self-titled debut record. Black isn’t a stranger to the heavy music world, as he’s played as a live member of Mizmor and Hell, but his work normally is found in the ambient world. But needing an outlet to deal with the state of the world, his attempts to be a good person in a place full of bad actors, and the anxiety and depression he carries, Litha was born, and the five tracks found on this record are incredible displays, demonstrating tenacity and power, gifts he has in abundance.  

“Hunger” is the 7:35-long opener, and it blasts its way in, guitars wrenching as the cries sound sorrowful. Guitars gush as Black howls, “I sleep in a bed of broken glass, I wait to lick my wounds … like a dog!” The playing floods as the bass chugs, plastering its way to a bruising finish. “Wearing Away” starts with glimmering guitars, the vocals practically hissing, melodies washing over a land of heartache. Chaotic fires rip as strong leads gather momentum, crushing and gushing, pounding away as the sounds boil over, reddening flesh with its rising heat. “I Am Many” is clean and trickles, a mournful haze hanging overhead, the growls gripping with force and squeezing out the air. A fog encases everything as the playing gets doomier, spreading misery and pain. The guitars work their way into a gazey sprawl, and the howls bubble and cover your psyche with a sense of detachment.

“Bite the Hand” runs a clean eight minutes, starting with guitars flooding, the emotional toll being paid early and often. Guitars collect and bring a melancholic feel, and then the force explodes again before pulling back, a warm glow coating your flesh. Guitars blaze all over as the pace increases its pressure, the shrieks turn skyward and reach for understanding, and the power finally bleeds out for good. “Thirst” is the closer, a 12-minute journey that is tornadic when it lands, Black wailing, “This thirst cannot be quenched!” The guitars begin to hypnotize, speeding and twisting, flush with energy that begins to flow like as swollen lava tunnel. Finally, the temperature changes, the coldness begins to leave a frost, the riffs cascade, and the final notes land like ashes from the sky.

Obviously, we know Black’s work from his efforts supporting other projects, but with Litha, he’s finally able to shine on his own, delivering emotionally heavy black metal that pays a weighty toll. This debut record allows Black to release some of the uglier, more destructive feelings and emotions collecting within him, and having this outlet resulted in a powerful record that might act as catharsis for other. This is a promising first step from a project that hopefully has a long, fruitful life.

For more on the band, go here: https://lithamusic.bandcamp.com/album/s-t

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.tartarusrecords.com/product/litha-s-t/

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

I’ve spent a lot of time this past week watching footage from the volcanic activity in Iceland, not only seeing lava exploding from the Earth but also seeing videos of people in their homes as the explosions rocked their worlds. It’s a stunning, humbling thing to witness, even from a distance, and it’s another reminder we are so tiny in scope, and we can be devoured at any second.

Icelandic black metal duo Helfró create music that could very well be homages to nature’s unquestioned power, but on their second record “Tálgröf,” the destruction is from the inside of one’s mind. The band—guitarist/bassist/vocalist Simon Thorolfsson, drummer/vocalist Ragnar Sverrisson—dwells on human matters such as addiction and damaging thought patterns, both of which can consume so much energy, it can be impossible to live a productive life. Over nine tracks and 36 minutes, this duo creates black metal that might as well be about the natural chaos that’s exploding in their homeland, but knowing that chaos and punishment is more personal makes this an even scarier record to absorb. These are forces one can control over time, but it’s just as easy to succumb to defeat as it is to crawl out of hell.

“Jarteikn” starts with aggression and melody coexisting, the shrieks scorching as the playing pours like the lava bursting from the volcano in Grindavík. Throaty howls land heavy blows as the intensity spikes, jarring and crushing before fading. “Fláráð Fræði” brings darkened guitars, and then the thrashing gets under way, the vocals sending waves of terror, wrenching and devastating. The fiery assault doubles as deep growls send seismic punishment, gutting and lurching to a finish. “Fangelsaður í Tilvist að Eilífu” begins with symphonic bombast, and then the playing rips through the center, spilling guts all over the place. The growls bellow through the Earth’s crust, the majestic rage spreading and vibrating, empirical sounds amplifying the metallic glory. “Þögnin Ytra, Kyrrðin Innra” is a blinding assault, the growls engorging as the slaughter gets into full force. Scorching howls and a galloping pace make your blood rush harder, zapping through the air, smashing your senses to bits. The tempo hits a melodic gust, bringing newfound intensity that slowly fades into flames.

“Guðlegt Réttlæti” signals doom with horns blowing, igniting as the growls wrench, and the blackness enshrouds everything. Shrieks destroy as the leads work up a bloody lather, the drums crushing into oblivion. “Sindur” blasts in with regal synth, guitars spiraling, and the gnarly vocals laying waste. There’s a combination of torment and atmosphere, a devious and mangling approach that leaves everything buried in ash. “Ildi Óhreins Anda” opens with thunder, and then the tempo chugs, washing into murkier terrain that reminds of a thick, early-morning fog. The strangeness permeates as the drums blast through, chaos spills fire anew, and the tornadic pace drills deep into the ground. “Traðkandi Blómin í Eigin Hjartagarði” is a battering ram, the growls digging under fingernails, the pace speeding up and colliding with industrial noise. There is a hardcore-style drubbing that leaves bruising, the vocals reverberating, decimating to the end. Closer “Minning um Morðingja” brings classic black metal riffs, the playing leveling worlds, melodies providing slight relief from the ample burning. The power blazes and makes breathing impossible, blasting into orchestral storms, ending quivering in a pool of blood.

While so much of the black metal world Helfró create feels like it centers on nature, what we hear on “Tálgröf” is more volcanic from an introspective standpoint. Whether or not you understand their language, you can feel the force in the music, the struggle playing out over the rampaging nine tracks that dig right into your brain. These are struggles we all can understand, many of us face, and this record bleeds these emotions in a manner that can set fire to chaos within.

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

To buy the album (North America), go here: https://shopusa.season-of-mist.com/band/helfro

Or here (International): https://shop.season-of-mist.com/list/helfro-helfro

For more on the label, go here: https://www.season-of-mist.com/

It can be easy to dismiss metal as a young person’s game since styles are constantly evolving, and the way the genre looks now is so much different than it was even a decade ago. So, it might seem like the fresh blood is what’s dictating the game. Of course, we know better than that, and veteran bands still are putting out great work that’s dynamic and challenging well into their careers.

You can add long-running black metal power Demoncy to that list of well-traveled bands that still pack devastating power and tenacity, which is spattered all over their killer fifth record “Black Star Gnosis.” Helmed from the start by vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Ixithra (VJS handles guitars and drums), the band has weaved through black metal’s formative years when they emerged in 1989, and over four other records (their last was 2012’s “Enthroned Is the Night”), they have established themselves as one of the most storied movers of the sub-genre who have survived to this day with as much chaos and devastation as anyone else playing this style.

“Across the Setian Planes” is an instrumental opener, and an eerie one at that as a beast lurks and snarls, and a hellish atmosphere swells and hammers into “Ipsissimus of Shadows” that unloads and twists violently. Hissing and crushing add ample heat, and suddenly everything is smoldering, smoke pouring from every crevice, the dizzying assault burying hopes in ash. The title track is disorienting and mashing, vile howls pounding away, gnawing at muscle and bone. The hideous force increases, strangling with terror and nastiness, a bloody ferocity blasting its way through the earth. “Cosmic Curse Invocation” mauls right away, demonic howls scraping at your psyche, stomping and turning everything to muck. The playing turns devious and evil, the vocals smearing poisonous soot, thrashing into a bizarre miasma that continues to add relentless pressure.

“Syzygy of Unholy Trinity” is a trip into ambient terror, the beast howling again, hell stretching its way across earth and into “De Mysterium Noctis” that explodes with warped riffs. The burly fire from the assault steamrolls, fire and lava spitting from the crust, guitars storming as the howls batter unforgivingly. Fast and ashen, the guitars pick up suddenly, storming and curving toward chaos. “Performing the Ceremonies of Tragedy” is doomy and ominous, a demonic pace setting the tone, eating through flesh with devastating howls. The guitars keep stirring the pot, letting horror bubble to the surface and choke out all life. “Cosmic Curse Expulsion” is an instant burst, a tornadic tear that feels like a death bender, buzz sawing through with bloodthirsty guitars. The attack is stomping and scorching, making the heat feel insurmountable, jostling and melting into closer “Occultation of Typhon.” This piece is a final ambient track that feels spacey but also sludgy, noises folding and filtering into hell.

Demoncy end their 11-year silence with a bludgeoning with “Black Star Gnosis,” a trim and violent display that comes at you with a hunger and fury that weighs on your psyche. This is black metal with an urgency and an unmistakable taste of evil, pounding on you every step of the way. Demoncy might be long tenured and have a lot of miles on their tires, but they show no signs of slowing down and sound as ferocious as they ever have in their nearly 35-year reign of terror.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Demoncy1/

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

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

Science fiction is rife with good sagas, multi-part movies that stretch over decades and generations, linking characters and storylines that create a bigger whole and meld a unique fictional universe. Metal isn’t foreign to this concept either as we’ve followed the loose Voivod adventures, the actions in Blashyrkh, and the plots that have carried over some of King Diamond’s albums.

Cincinnati’s Valdrin is the latest example of this kind of artistic endeavor, and their excellent fourth record “Throne of the Lunar Soul” is the next chapter of the Ausadjur Mythos, the plotline following main character Valdrin Ausadjur, this time after he has returns home following a failed mission to quell an insurrection, so he now waits in judgement for his shortcomings. Yet there’s more boiling beneath the surface. The music accompanying this installment of the tale is a mighty 11-track, 74-minute monster of a double album that the band—vocalist, guitarist, keyboard player Carter Hicks, guitarist Colton, bassist James Lewis, drummer Ryan Maurmeier—commits to fully musically and from a creative standpoint, making it their most ambitious release so far, one that balances excitement and dread in their glorious black metal.

“Neverafter” is a rousing opener, the symphonic black metal making your heart race as the drama sweeps, the playing crushes. The force eventually goes clean, the speaking pushing the story along, the playing crushing and melting as the energy bursts at the end. “Golden Walls of Ausadjur” unloads twisting guitars and a synth cloud, vile blasts that go for the head making their impact. The playing is fiery and fantastical, trudging through as the keys sprawl, vile howls mangling in the darkness. Classical synth injects power, the steady mists increase, and the final bend storms home. “Seven Swords (In the Arsenal of Steel)” brings synth pumps and ripping leads, the black metal fury forming a storm front as Hicks howls about “fighting for a cause unrevealed.” Symphonic melodies surge as the blood pools, and everything comes to a scorching finish. “Paladins of Ausadjur” arrives with racing synth and melodic leads, feeling inspired by Maiden’s strongest era, vile cackles echoing in the dark. Huge melodies overwhelm as the keys go on a ferocious run, glorious clean calls gets adrenaline surging, and great dual leads add to the flooding excitement. Keys zap, the energy combusts, and folk-like movements take on electrified chaos that feels very inspired by European death metal. “Sojourner Wolf” fires up with creative guitar work and catchy sparks, the playing speeding up and teasing as the keys layer. The intensity blasts as the vocals get more intense, the playing rampaging through blinding power, bending around corners and flooding with power. Acoustics move in to cool off the temps, but that’s temporary as everything rips anew, and Hicks wails, “I still worship the dark, for it is the flame that will carry my soul to the end.”

“The Hierophant” stomps and loosens rock, vicious growls splatter, and the guitars catch fire and lather, leaving you heaving. The energy manages to overflow as the synth ices the swelling burn wounds, charging out into melodic fire. “Vagrant in the Chamber of Night” enters amid synth layers, and then everything rips apart, huge gusts tasking your brain for a ride, the savagery multiplying as the howls feel more acidic. Shrieks maim as the drama collects, the playing jars and charges, and everything is swallowed into the mouth of the oncoming storm. “Holy Matricide” enters in an acoustic swirl, channeled shrieks dare you to move, and frosty synth leaves you shivering and searching for any source of warmth. Acoustics rush as whispering sends additional chills, and then the pace returns to crushing, frigid overtures taking you under, a fast, relentless attack taking hold, and a wondrous haze wrapping around you and arresting you in dreams. The title track starts cleanly enough, the guitars tingling, the keys bathing in progressive waters, soaring and electrifying. There’s a hidden pop sensibility in this, which makes for an interesting twist, and it’s not long before the massive leads electrify, the keys adding an extra glaze. Guitars increase the humidity, the fogs thicken, and wild cries hammer away, leaving bruised flesh behind. “Two Carrion Talismans” brings clashing guitars and keys dancing, the fiery nature soon overwhelming, tornadic riffs leaving untold amounts of damage. The leads open up, turning the track daring and dangerous, adding sting to its assault, the final wail of, “Hear my cry!” swirling in the wind. Closer “Hymn to the Convergence” is a synth-driven, mystical instrumental that pushes the orchestral elements, letting your mind wander into the deepest reaches of your imagination.

“Throne of the Lunar Soul” is quite the serving from Valdrin, but it never feels overstuffed or too much to handle. This is arguably the most exciting entry in their four-album catalog, a triumph of an effort that could be considered their finest hour once all is said and done. The story of the character Valdrin might take a turn for the worse lyrically, but there’s a triumph to this music, a power that permeates everything they do, and something’s telling me this isn’t the last we’ll hear from our hero as he sits and waits for what’s going to happen next in Ausadjur.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.bloodharvest.se/?s=valdrin&post_type=product

For more on the label, go here: https://www.bloodharvest.se/

Metal’s boundaries are about as fluid as they’ve ever been. Not that this site is some kind of example to the world, but we commonly highlight music that isn’t necessarily pure metal, but the appeal to listeners in the audience is understandable, and our readers have responded positively because heavy doesn’t always have to pertain to sonic qualities. Metal can embrace all kinds of things, and we do the same.

“Wrapped in Mist” is the debut record from Helga, a band named after its vocalist Helga Gabriel, whose otherworldly voice and approach are intoxicating and refreshing. Gabriel started out in Sweden, ended up in a Viking town in North Yorkshire, and she stretched her understanding of metallic wonders, her incredible voice leading the way. She eventually teamed with the rest of her band—guitarists Cai Sumption and Cameron Gledhill, bassist Ryan Fairclough, who all had played together previously, and drummer/percussionist Sami Javed—to form the union we see and hear today. This record is not full-throttle metal, but it doesn’t need to be. There are plenty of weighty parts, lots of dreams and wonders, and something enrapturing that easily should lure in anyone who loves heaviness but has an open mind.

“Skogen mumlar” opens in a deep murk as Gabriel’s calls echo, the playing chugging and sweeping, strings fluttering. The playing then goes into an exciting prog push, hand claps pace, and dark, melodic calls from Gabriel pull a canopy over the night. “Burden” begins clean, softer singing emerging, the solemnity overwhelming as Gabriel calls over the chorus, “It’s a big world,” something repeated later with greater context. Hazy guitars poke at ’90s alternative rock, melodies add warmth, and Gabriel adds to the chorus, “I’m looking for a friend to share my fears and pain,” as the song sinks into deep darkness. “Water” brings swelling singing and an immersive fog, the dreaminess coming in layers, Gabriel calling, “Water, bountiful water, quenching the thirst of my people.” The hope turns into despair as that vital element is threatened, the call of, “But one day it’s all gone, waters will dry, die,” adding sobering pain. “If Death Comes Now” is soft, lush, and calming, guitars dripping as the gaze is amplified, burning through the atmosphere. The playing collects as progressive winds blow harder, the singing adds muscle, and the track fades away. “Farväl” brings stinging guitars and wrenching cries, Gabriel unleashing shrieks, surfy guitars bouncing over mournful waves. The singing rides along with that, rippling and tearing open, the fierce cries causing devastation, the final notes feeling ominous.

“Alive Again” opens with brighter guitars, even amid a darker flow, Gabriel singing, “You’re the reason why I breathe, you’re the reason why I’m here.” The playing picks up and turns into a flowing surge, lush melodies doing their part in the background, the guitars stimulating raw emotions. “Vast and Wild” starts with chant-like singing, piano dripping, echoey beats bouncing off walls. Strings are plucked as Gabriel points, “Vast and wild, the sea I hear the sound of my heart, wildly beating,” as a poppy, gazey storm brings light rain, percussive energy builds, and the piano notes tingle on your skin. “Som en trumma” lands with darker guitars, punchiness, and a spirited push that makes your adrenaline flow freely. The leads screech as melodies pummel, shrieks rain like a storm of razor blades, and finally the damage settles. “Mountain Song” is a slow drive through different sets of colors, the singing moving, the playing swooning. Drums echo through propulsive waves, Gabriel calling, “I am standing before something greater than myself, is this what it feels to be alive?” Guitars steam as the temperatures spike, fading into immersive calm. The closing title track is dreamy as classic acoustic guitars spark, strings add a breezy element, guitars spitting energy. “We remember the dead, we dance, we dance, we dance!” Gabriel cries as is feels like the playing is swimming into dimensional subconsciousness, the guitars bending over a strange angle at the end of a journey.

Helga’s music certainly borders on, and at times delves directly into metal, but there’s so much more going on here to classify directly into a corner. “Wrapped in Mist” is an immersive, constantly evolving record from an artist just getting started on this sojourn, and this first record is a promising initial step. At times, the songs feel like they have multiple personalities, and that’s OK because it keeps things interesting. I’m curious as to where this band goes on album two because it could be anything at all.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://shopusa.season-of-mist.com/band/helga

Or here (International): https://shop.season-of-mist.com/list/helga-wrapped-in-mist

For more on the label, go here: https://www.season-of-mist.com/

We’ve all been through a lot the last few years, and yes, I know this is an opening style I’ve used before, but it’s incredibly relevant here. Pain and suffering, immeasurable loss, the devastating mental toll many of us paid and still pay all are things that remain to this day. They don’t just go away because the world is opened up. Some wounds don’t actually heal regardless of time, and there needs to be an outlet for release.

A.S.B., the sole creator behind The Mosaic Window, paid the heavy price alongside so many of us, and his debut record under this banner, “Plight of Acceptance,” is the result of that experience. Not only did A.S.B. have to deal with the same circumstances that we all experienced in the past few years, he also lost his father and grandmother, which is enough to send anyone reeling into oblivion. But “Plight” happened, obviously, due to his perseverance and determination, and while the music was released independently this past June, Willowtip has picked up this great record and is giving it the wider release it richly deserves. Even if you just want to come around for the music, you’ll be able to indulge in the sonic heaviness. But anyone in a struggle, who can’t seem to find a bright light in the insanity, can identify with the pain and loss and hopefully find music that’ll help them see a way out.

“Comatic Burial” starts in soaking rain and ominous riffs, the playing slashing as the melodies increase, gruff howls crushing wills. Clean singing teams with vicious wails over the chorus, the leads lather and add fuel to the accumulating fire, and everything blasts hard before a massive finish. “The Haunting That Follows” blasts with chaotic energy, bellows hitting you in the guts, acoustics sweeping before things jolt again. Forceful howls team with spiraling guitars work, the playing numbs the senses, and a last burst of energetic devastation brings everything to an end. “Demon” smokes with sinister intent, scowling howls open new, flowing wounds, and the darkness wells before things turn truly ugly. The tempo blasts and threatens safety, a faster pace elevates your anxiety, and the growls menace, leaving a glistening pool of blood collecting from the attack.

“Furnace” swells and bursts, bringing with it menacing growls and accumulating steam that coats your face in sweat. Melodies rush as horns signal impending doom, the disorienting pace playing games with your mind. Gruff howls scar as the guitars pour added energy, mournful melodies darken skies, and the final stretch spits shrapnel. “Spiritual Intoxication” has riffs blazing and the melodies overwhelming, the pace continually increased to make the manic energy more volatile. Grim howls batter as the guitars smoke, the sounds flooding your senses as your head is left spinning. “Nails of Holy Origin” wrenches as synth swarms intoxicate, and the sorrow collects and weighs heavily on your heart. Vile howls rush as the playing takes on a Middle Eastern flavor, blasting and wrenching as keys glimmer, and huge surges make blood rush with force. Closer “Consumed by a Thought” opens with war sounds (it reminded me a lot of “One”) and then the sludging takes over, frantic transmissions triggering panic. The playing unloads, devastation bursting at every corner, the leads consuming as the growls become more unhinged. Swirling madness coils and strikes, a cavernous stretch adds to the darkening atmosphere, and the end comes with start/stop thrashing that hammers the ferocious final nails.

So many people have suffered immeasurably in the past few years, and what A.S.B. pours into “Plight of Acceptance” is the end result of facing the tumult head on even in the worst of mental times. The fire and chaos spread all over the Mosaic Window’s debut is palpable, and if you’re one who has paid a heavy price, you might find some solace and catharsis along the way. Hopefully the next record under this banner comes as a result of better circumstances, but this collection will stand as a document of facing the worst of times and finding a way to survive despite it all.  

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100094717845304

To buy the album, go here: https://www.willowtip.com/bands/details/the-mosaic-window.aspx

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