There are advantages and disadvantages to having the heavy metal world stretched as far as it is. We have bands and sounds and ideas we’ve never imagined before, but we also have a lot of releases, some of them very good that don’t really push boundaries as far as creativity is concerned. That’s not a knock. Not all bands can do insane shit. But when we find a band that puts metal’s DNA in a blender in a great way, we’re here for that.

Folterkammer, a black metal band with operatic vocals, might sound too gimmicky to some. I can get that on the surface. But dig into the music, notably what you hear on their incredible second record “Weibermacht,” and you’ll know you’re facing a relentless force that has something much different to say and present in the best possible way. Their debut “Die Lederpredigt” was our No. 4 record of 2020, but this album might be better. Concentrating on BDSM and richly horny topics, the band—vocalist Andromeda Anarchia, guitarists Zachary Ezrin and Darren Hanson, bassist Laurent David, drummer Brendan McGowan (Steve Blanco provides harpsichord)—delivers on all fronts that most would be bashful to confront from a sexual standpoint. But we’re hardly sex or fetish shamers on this site, and combined with the jazzy and avant-garde approach to black metal, we have a playful, yet violently direct (Anarchia’s ripping German grinds your face) approach to this style that is remarkably refreshing and sexually liberating. Oh, and it makes the woman the dominating force, which, absolutely no problem here!

“Anno Domina” drives with maniacal force, Anarchia’s operatic calls ruling everything, gushing with drama that’s deliciously over the top. A baroque feel is achieved, leaving your flesh cold and prone, and the crack of the whip is the wakeup call, Anarchia’s growls turning on you and dragging you to the end. “Leck Mich” brings snarling riffs as melodic singing swells, the snarled chorus (translates to “lick me,” though there are other takes on this) plays games with your psyche. A blinding force takes over and allows organs to rise and the pace to utterly destroy, amplifying the filthy adventure which you have under taken. “Die Unterwerfung” opens with a dramatic dialog from Anarchia, chambery playing making things feel disarmingly intoxicating. Angelic calls mix with the abject black metal horrors, a hellish choral effect taking over, shrieks piling and adding a touch of bloodshed to an atmospheric ripe with alluring calls. “Kuess mir die Fuesse” translates to “kiss my feet,” leans into fully embracing fetish, the storming letting you know not only is that welcome but fully encouraged. The playing is vicious and fiery at times, the shrieks working down your spine violently, pounding and charging, making you blood race before a dizzying finish.

“Algolagnia” is the act of experiencing sexual pleasure from pain, and as the bass slinks in and black riffs carve, shrieks explode, the guitars working themselves into tornadic bliss. Screams jar as the energy slashes limbs, the guitars are worked into a frenzy, and a demonic dialog sends chills. Guitars flood and storm, screams build, and everything comes to a thrilling end. “Herrin der Schwerter” is sprawling and bubbling, wild roars bustling, the darkness flourishing into something a little more dangerous. Guitars gain heat as the vocals push every button imaginable, the speed taking up and making you heart race out of control. “Das Peitschengedicht” means “the whip poem,” and guitars quiver as the track is torn open from the guts, operatic wails mixing with vicious shrieks that leave you maimed. The playing gets faster as angelic calls make your body temperature rise, shrieks wrench of a melodic sprawl, and an attack that feels power metal in origin drives the track to its final gasps. We end with a cover of Velvet Underground’s 1967 track “Venus in Furs,” itself a look at sadomasochism and bondage. The band puts on a playful and jarring a take as possible, Anarchia practically licking up every line and lashing them back out, the playing feeling equal parts theatrical and unhinged.

Folterkammer’s music likely won’t appeal to wide swaths of the metal world due to its unconventional approach and sound, but those who connect to this are bound to go in hard, because it really is that good. From Anarchia’s mix of operatic singing to her sinister shrieks and the band’s fiery accompaniment, this record will leave listeners quivering, shaking, maybe a little aroused. This is a huge step up from their great debut album, and it’s something that’s going to stick in your sweat and saliva for a long time to come.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://centurymedia.store/collections/folterkammer

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

There’s a reason works of art land so hard for many of us. We find something in these creations that seem to relate to our lives, our plights, and who we are personally, and it’s natural to make a connection with the creator of said pieces because they appear to be telling us a story about our own lives.

BIG|BRAVE vocalist/guitarist Robin Wattie did just that leading up to the creation of their new record “A Chaos of Flowers,” the most musically diverse of their run. She was trying to find old poems and folk traditions in the public domain, which led her to a lot of work made almost exclusively by men. Therefore, Wattie delved back into the pieces by female writers and creators who expressed their views of womanhood and helped her connect even more psychologically to those writings. Joined by her bandmates guitarist Mathieu Ball and drummer Tasy Hudson, they carved out an eight-track record that contains some of their noisier elements from past releases but also heads deeper into a more delicate path, showing a musical side we haven’t heard fully before. It’s a welcoming, jarring record that may take a few visits to blossom, but once it does, it takes on a life of its own.

“i felt a funeral” has strings stinging and Wattie’s singing fluttering, a dream state in static achieved from the start. Electrics snarl as things get meditative, bubbling and melting, delicate singing taking on a folk sense, warm fuzz lapping to the finish. “not speaking of the ways” cuts in and lets guitars build a foam, moving and lathering, emotional singing weighing on psyches. Layers are buried in psyche and bluesy heat, threatening slightly and slowly lurching, Wattie repeatedly calling out over the din, “Love and lovers,” everything blending into your mind. “chanson pour mon ombre” is French sung, dissonant guitars scraping over a bed of acoustics, noises jolting and tangling. The singing builds as sounds bustle, energies quaking and succumbing to echo. “canon : in canon” features Marisa Anderson on guitar, and from the start a warm buzz is emitted, swimming through emotion and tumult, the singing guiding as electric slowly swallow. Light hovers like an engine as the playing bends, cymbals crash, and the end draws near.

“a song for Marie part iii,” a series that started on 2014’s “Feral Verdure,” hovers in eerie sounds, guitars gently glazing, your head swimming in strangeness that leads into “theft” that opens just as ominously. The singing numbs as the playing meanders through a foggy dusk feel, coating your face with dew, guitars quivering and humming. Noise scrapes as obscured visions come to pass, sizzling in your mind and slipping into your consciousness. “quotidian : solemnity” soaks in feedback, harmonized singing adding to the atmospheric pull, pushing through interference and sounds bouncing off walls. Voices slip into your ears like a whispering ghost, the pressure pulsating before losing its intensity. Closer “moonset” is delicate and fantasy-like, the singing making the hairs on your flesh rise, steady guitars dripping. A cool desert vibe takes hold as sounds clash and mash, the heat finally rises, and all of the forces meld within slowly dissipating power.

Musically, this is the most varied and delicate BIG|BRAVE album yet, one that still holds its share of force and electric power but isn’t shy to show a delicate, reflective side. Not that we needed a breath of fresh air from this band at all, but “A Chaos of Flowers” provides just that, a record that can accompany meditation and one’s own psychological journeys. Along with this is Wattie’s own journey to find works to which she relates and that speak to her experience, which this record could be for other people looking for a resonating voice.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://thrilljockey.com/products/a-chaos-of-flowers

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

The longer you’re alive on this earth, the more pain and loss you’re going to experience. It’s a natural progression through life, albeit an uncomfortable one, and these are events can leave us reeling, finding it difficult to move forward and create a new comfort zone.

Denver-based melodic death metal band Oak, Ash & Thorn face that on all fronts on their rousing second record “Our Grief Is Thus.” Over eight tracks and 39 minutes, the band—vocalist/guitarist Adam Armstrong, guitarist/vocalist Jason Harding, bassist Erik Hoffman, drummer Cierra White—creates a concept piece of sorts that addresses grief and loss in all of its forms. That can be personal, societal, familiar, you name it as all of them have a profound impact on who we are, where we live, and how we shape our future. The music here is exciting and crushing, something that, if the lyrical context was ignored, could be something that gets your adrenaline going. And it still might, but the messages contained within can’t be ignored, nor should they be.

“Dying Culture” has a massive open, only hinting at the energy ahead, and from there, harsh growls and clean singing team, the chorus rushing full force. Things continue to build, vicious howls belting as the call of, “This is the sound of our culture dying,” resonates in your chest. “Like the Sea, I Raged” opens fluidly, the power trickling, and then the playing begins to mash, the leads glimmering above the filth, the melodies swimming and surging, going deep into progressive waters. Growls stretch as fiery bursts open wounds, stretching and jarring, thrashing into the dirt. “Ten Years on the Tundra” dawns with glorious singing, then punchiness as the melodies cause roadways to feel slick, the chorus gusting with, “Time to bury me, bury deep my tired bones.” Guitars lather as a twin-lead attack mounts, taking off into an explosion of heat, the chorus returning to usher in a rousing finish. “Bury Deep My Tired Bones” is a sun-splashed interlude, feeling like it’s leaning into the heat of summertime, leaving you basking in the light.

“Light My Pyre” begins with pulsating energy, fiery howls mixing with rousing singing, and the tempo racing, taking on a punk-like bravado. Barked cries punch as the drums are absolutely decimated, the chorus powering, and then a sinister turn emerges that leaves the remains shrouded in darkness. “Auras” is another that mixes strong singing with powerful growls, each element allowing dark and light to shine through as majestic playing jars your adrenaline. The leads lather as the playing jolts, the howl of, “Light of the north, guide us forth, we are your chosen,” making blood boil, ending in a spirited gust. “Distant Mountains, Distant Gods” sits on the edge of a storm, birds cawing, stirring guitars opening the lid. Gruff growls lash as the singing soars, the ambiance feeling glorious, trudging through electric leads and punishing shrieks. The hammer continues to drop, pounding through sludge and death, leaving a shock of ash behind. Closer “Unchain the Wolf” has the drums gutting, vile howls leaving their marks, and a tempo that feels tornadic. The howls peel back flesh as melodies gather layers, everything building to the final storm that blisters with a charge that leaves you scurrying for safety as the last blasts level the planet.

We’re all dealing with loss in some sense, and to deny that is to stunt our own growth moving forward. Oak, Ash & Thorn cover all that on “Our Grief Is Thus,” a record that blazes with melodic death metal power and also refuses to shy away from the damage we’ve taken on over our lives. It’s a rousing album that could do a small part of helping us make connections to aspects of our lives we’ve lost and try to power into a new future.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://oakashandthorn.bandcamp.com/album/our-grief-is-thus

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

Chaos and misery surround us on a daily basis as we navigate through health scares, political turmoil, and society at large being comprised of just enough assholes to make interacting with people not that worth it. People are trying to make ends meet, marginalized people want a chance to be able to live in comfort, and we balance relationships that often can be impacted by all of the above circumstances.

The members of doom crushers Heavy Temple—vocalist/bassist High Priestess Nighthawk, guitarist Lord Paisley, drummer Baron Lycan—are not immune to these things, and that comes out in fiery passion on their killer second full-length record “Garden of Heathens.” This is the trio’s second creation together (they have a slew of EPs and smaller releases with a different lineup that preceded 2021’s “Lupi Amoris”), and the connective tissue has strengthened into flexible steel as they play off one another and create a volcanic experience that should melt faces live. And yes, woven in are lyrics that dig deeper into personal territory, matters we all face, things that haunt us all, and here they are, laid to waste in volcanic madness.

“Extreme Indifference to Life” rips open with guitars reigning, sweltering, Nighthawk’s sultry howl rippling down your spine as she jabs, “I’m wasting my precious time.” The playing is gnarly and smoking, the guitars getting burlier, the soloing scorching and leaving your flesh charred. “Hiraeth” is fuzzy and punching, Nighthawk’s singing flexing, fuzzy pounding making your head spin. “Take it or leave it,” Nighthawk calls back repeatedly, the riffs encircling you in fire, everything feeling like a heat pressure build but also manages to be incredibly catchy. Everything lathers and takes you over, ending in a psychedelic storm. “Divine Indiscretion” brings heavy swagger that bubbles with attitude, the guitars taking off and making your blood boil, taking off and sprawling into a dry heat. The grime accumulates as a cauldron of ferocity overtakes you, quivering and quaking, turning up the speed and barreling toward a tornadic conclusion. “House of Warship” starts with Nighthawk calling a capella, her voice fluttering in your ears, warmth flooding over and covering you with waves, the pace burying you underneath a psyche onslaught that makes you see visions. The pace picks up and buries you under mind-altering slashing, the guitars rushing and leaving behind a velvet finish that’s coated with your sweat.

“Snake Oil (and Other Remedies)” slowly drips, the temperature rising in calculated fashion, slinking through the steam as the keys mesmerize. Nighthawk’s singing digs deep in your belly, the energy pulsating as the steamy push takes you under, the playing unwinding and spiraling. “On my knees again, waiting for you,” Nighthawk wails, everything around here feeling like an organism spiking your body temperature, leaving you gasping and writhing. “In the Garden of Heathens” is a hazy, sweeping instrumental interlude, gliding on a dusty landscape, almost like fingers tracing the sun-scorched dashboard of a 1970s Thunderbird. “Jesus Wept” brings muscular riffs and heavy crunch, the singing leaving an intoxicating aura, blowing up and snarling like an animal. The aggression builds as the playing spatters blood, psychic heat burning through your brain, pulverizing to a finish. Closer “Psychomanteum” is a thunderous instrumental, a song that would be great as a set opener for the rest of their run, that’s how volcanic it is. Guitars deface as the band hits a sudden thrashy assault, channeling glory days Metallica, coming at your bloodthirsty and hungry. The playing stomps and blazes, overflowing with flames and passion, ending the record with a knife to the heart.

Heavy Temple already had a stellar reputation coming into “Garden of Heathens,” but they take things to such a high level here, they’re becoming untouchable. Amid all the themes that run through these heat seekers is an attitude that defies the trials and tribulations that try to trip us up along our way to our destinations. This is a blazing hot record that jams its fist into your chest and refuses to let go, it’s aggression and attitude becoming so infectious, you cannot help but submit to them.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/heavy-temple-garden

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

Every one of us has a unique experience in this world, and the things that impact us and make us who we are tend to be personal, things only we, in our shells, can understand. That sometimes can make us feel like we’re alone at the pole position, battling adversity, trying to understand our own plights, and confronting changes in all forms, testing us to see what we can endure to become who we truly are.

Dool, the Dutch dark rock band that is ready to unleash their third full-length “The Shape of Fluidity,” embody that struggle. They’re human like we are, facing adversity, trying to find ourselves in a world and within a society that doesn’t always make the journey easy. For singer/guitarist Raven van Dorst, the idea of fluidity takes on even greater meaning as they work to understand who they truly are. Born intersex and surgically assigned female status after birth, they have fought through misunderstandings, taboos, and a society not always kind to people on this journey, finally embracing their hermaphroditic nature. As for the rest of the band—guitarists Nick Polak and Omar Iskandr, bassist JB van der Wal, drummer Vincent Kreyder—they back up van Dorst’s fight and also help create nine tracks and nearly 50 minutes of exciting, infectious, and genuine music that transforms this group from a promising force to one that is ready to wholly dominate.

“Venus in Flames” is a prodding opener, one that gets into your bloodstream in a hurry. The dark rock storm drives steadily, van Dorst calling, “Would you lay with your love, now the time has come?” Guitars heat up and illuminate flesh, the melodies rushing and tingling, everything fading into the sea. “Self-Dissect” blisters with humid guitars, murky and steamy, a glaze spread over everything. Melodies turn on a dime and make everything stickier, the leads searing and flooding over with attitude. The title track has guitars dripping and synth zapping, sludgier riffs taking over and flexing. “The water flows in many ways until the moment we drown,” van Dorst jabs, the clouds thickening and threatening. “For I, recklessly, carelessly, I never learned to swim out in these parts,” van Dorst admits, their vulnerability on display yet driving with determination as they call, “We dive deeper down now in lost time.” “Currents” is a brief instrumental with noise clouding, guitars waxing and waning, unloading spacey heat into “Evil in You” that starts with liquifying riffs and plodding bass. The playing is fluid and steady, steely and melodic, basking in energy and pulsating rhythms, van Dorst leveling, “I’m caught between the devil and the deep blue ocean,” as everything returns to the waters.

“House of a Thousand Dreams” is delicate and dark, talk-like singing emerging, van Dorst luring, “Come lay down in my arms.” The track ramps up from a sonic and emotional standpoint, the guitars spilling lava all over the terrain. “A new dawn is arriving,” van Dorst promises, everything bleeding out into a fever dream. “Hermagorgon” is doomy and ominous, psychedelic heat eating away at you, softer singing luring you into the shadows. “On the edges of your shadow in a tangled knot, I’ll be waiting,” they vow, “I’ll be ready for the serpent call.” The strength gets bolder from here, van Dorst’s singing drilling into your chest, the soloing exploding as the melodies add several layers of energy, coming to a burning, churning end. “Hymn for a Memory Lost” lets guitars rain down, the power heating up, lush melodies washing over your leaking wounds. The playing plods darkly as the chorus emerges, warm leads doing battle, the moodiness climaxing as zaps and jolts dash into the stars. Closer “The Hand of Creation” has drums rousing, guitars shimmering, and deeper singing digging into your psyche. Dark tensions mount as the stormy pace acts as a test of strength, van Dorst calling, “And the heavens smiled as the bellowed roars came from the sky,” an apocalyptic vision blending with buzzing energy that brings a dark finish.

Change is inevitable for all of us, though the reasons for that and forces behind us are different for everyone. Dool and van Dorst both have experienced the gamut of these experiences, and the music that makes up “The Shape of Fluidity” also demonstrates that the members of this band are not content to sit still and follow a template. This is a band that keeps growing on astonishing levels, and what Dool create on this album is a message to their audience and their doubters that they cannot be predicted or anticipated, and they’re only beginning to unearth their real powers.   

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

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/dool-fluidity

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

The days of swords clashing in metal videos, when those were more of a thing, and charismatic singers who make the whole thing move seem like things of the past. Not that those things don’t exist anymore, it’s just that bands and artists who make their name including those elements seem to fly so far under the surface. It’s brutality over all.

Brooklyn-based metal force Castle Rat represent a sound and image that mostly are removed from so much modern heavy metal. The band—vocalist/guitarist Riley Pinkerton (Rat Queen), guitarist Franco Vittore (Count), bassist Ronnie Lanzilotta III (Plague Doctor), drummer Josh Strmic (The All-Seeing Druid)—zeroes in on classic metal and NWOBHM thunder on their great debut record “Into the Realm.” This feels like music that easily could have been sent here in a capsule from 1981, finding a new home in an era when this type of thing is not nearly as common. Pinkerton leading the group adds exuberant character and charisma, as it just drips off her. On top of that, their live shows are a theatrical display that would make Dio, King Diamond, and Maiden proud, as they play out the adventures of the Rat Queen on stage as their music pumps along with it.

“Dagger Dragger” is a killer opener, guitars swaggering and giving off a smoking vintage feel, Pinkerton’s singing swelling and commanding, making it absolutely certain who is in charge. There’s a Coven feel to all of this, and it’s intoxicating, the infectious darkness, the guitars that buzz with energy, and the singing that digs into your brain. “Feed the Dream” has guitars heating up and steamy singing, washing into echo and making your muscles shake. Guitars snake, encircling and blistering, and Pinkerton’s calls getting inside you, haunting your dreams. “Resurrector” is the rare bass-driven interlude you’re bound to hear, slinking into the shadows, reverberating through the earth. “Red Sands” brings guitars streaking as all sounds light up, trudging as the singing spreads, feeling witchy and bloody, the colorful sprawling flowing with force. Pinkerton’s singing  wails as the humidity clouds with force, blending out in noise.

“The Mirror” is a hypnotic interlude, the guitars steaming and slinking through your dreams, a psychedelic sheen plastered over the piece, moving into “Cry for Me” a track that opens with solemnity. “The freaks are out again,” Pinkerton calls, the playing building mystical intensity, the balladry bleeding brightly and putting a dusty edge on everything. “Got some feeling coming back,” she sings, a refrain that repeats through the back half, the track slowing bleeding out into time. “Realm” is the final interlude, a soot-black instrumental with ominous guitars and gathering clouds, moving into “Fresh Fur” that starts with a razor-sharp shriek and driving riffs. The tempo stomps and flexes, trudging into a strange cosmic warp, melting into psychedelic syrup. The singing is washed out, making it feel like water clearing from your ears, and then the guitars go off, causing smoke to billow toward the sky. Closer “Nightblood” opens in a doomy haze, Pinkerton’s singing crawling amid a gathering storm, the guitars tangling and tingling. The leads pick up and take off as the tempo scorches, Pinkerton’s singing mesmerizing, everything ending in a sonic blast.

The fantastical wonder behind “Into the Realm” is thick and real, a throwback record to a time when metal was in its formative years, and the mysteries were a little more shrouded in secrecy. Castle Rat bring back an element of wonder and storytelling, swords and shields, and bloody chainmail soaked after a hard battle. On top of that, the music is so compelling and such a good time that it’s easy to slip into the story and get carried away by the power of classic heavy metal.

For more on the band, go here: https://castleratband.bandcamp.com/album/into-the-realm-2

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://wisebloodrecords.bandcamp.com/

Or here (International): https://wisebloodrecords.8merch.com/

Or here (U.S.): https://kingvolume.8merch.us/

Or here (International): https://kingvolume.8merch.com/

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

Or here: https://www.kingvolume.com/

Frustration and setbacks are annoying as all hell. You put time and effort into accomplishing something, and just as you feel you’re on the brink, everything comes crashing down, despite how hard you worked to keep it together. So, how do you come out from the other side, regain your momentum, and keep the machine going?

Bay Area death metal power Necrot might have the answer to that on “Lifeless Birth,” their third record and one that comes after a period of tumult. First, their second record “Mortal” was consumed by the pandemic, as they were not able to properly promote that thunderous effort. Then, myriad health issues popped up and sidetracked the band, burying their efforts and putting everything on hold. Luckily, the trio—vocalist/bassist Luca Indrio, guitarist Sonny Reinhardt, drummer Chad Gailey—persevered, and out came “Lifeless Birth,” a powerful, slashing affair that puts them back on track with music that’s going to crush live now that touring is in their grasp again.

“Cut the Cord” is a great opener that sucks you into the record, leads sweltering and roars pummeling, attitude dripping off every note. The thunderous chorus is one that is a trademark for this record: super simple and easy to wail back, sticky as all fuck. The leads burn and twist, leaving brain wiring smoking, heading into the title track that trudges and destroys. The guitars are blistering, speed exploding through the spidery playing, everything drubbing and making blood rush to the surface. Guitars fire up and mount a furious comeback while gutting blasts set up everything for a fiery finish. “Superior” storms the gates, drums decimating, the growls chewing away at prone flesh. Great leads build up and wrench, the bone-crushing fury adding to the pressure and also growing more infectious, vicious howls landing their marks as everything bleeds out onto the floor.

“Drill the Skull” trudges as the growls scathe, another simple, yet effective chorus worming into your head, nasty and driving playing making the bruising set in even darker. A sudden burst ripples out of the heaviness and sets everything off balance, thrashing through tornadic winds, the guitars ramping out and spattering blood. “Winds of Hell” begins with guitars swirling and creating chaos, thorny playing battering, and the tempo blowing through and twisting muscle. The leads multiply as the melodies increase and flood, and a fluid, yet fiery burst overwhelms, charring to a brutal conclusion. “Dead Memories” brings snarling guitars, growls that curdle, and a punishing pace that aims to take you apart. The soloing emerges from a blasting furnace, causing faces to melt, while forceful howls lambaste, ending in an ocean of flames. Closer  “The Curse” steamrolls, stomping guts as the leads spiral, and the howls scrape at flesh. Things grow more humid as the guitars speed and spread, throaty growls feeling like they’re dicing Idrio’s throat, leading into total darkness. Riffs drill as the heat increases, ending everything in a pool of reflective blood.

Necrot aren’t rewriting death metal’s story, but they have added many compelling chapters of their own, the latest being “Lifeless Birth.” This is steady as it comes, a full blast of death metal played with bloody fury and an emotional passion that, even while they’re peeling back your flesh, you can’t help but have a good time. Necrot survived a period that would undo most bands and delivered a devastating collection that has the band roaring back to reclaim what is theirs.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://tankcrimes.merchtable.com/?

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