Summer literally just dawned here on the East Coast of the United States, and we’re pushing 100 degrees every day this week. We barely had a winter again this past season, and the days of normalcy seems to have devolved into something less livable. Certainly far more volatile. And so many don’t seem to care at all.

“Resilience” is the second full-length from California-based doom metal power Amarok, and it’s a concept piece that revels in the agony of violently changing climates, loss, and existential dread, all of which can be rolled into one ongoing overserving of anxiety. Over five tracks and almost 65 minutes, the band—vocalist/bassist Brandon Squyres, guitarist/vocalist Kenny Ruggles–Alaniz, guitarist Nathan Collins, drummer Colby Byrn—digs deep into the ground from where they’ve mined before and have refined their sound and made their songs even more gut wrenching. Their songs from all releases are sort of woven together into a larger picture, so this one picks up numerically where 2018’s “Devoured” left off. This is a passionate, darkly mournful record that also packs a burst of anger and resentment that is palpable and perfectly served.

“Charred (X)” is the 17:51-long opener that enters in flames, battering as howls scathe, and a funereal pace sets the mood dour. The playing corrodes as fires crackle, the guitars going cold and entering into moody territory. The track picks up the pace as emotional guitars whip up a lather, the howls boil harder, and the playing buckles, sending off thunderous aftershocks. Wails scorch as the ferocity builds, tearing through the earth’s crust as the sounds ring into oblivion. “Ascension (XI)” is the longest track at 18:10, and it’s dark and mournful at the start, howls scraping as the synth glows, the playing storming and creating a flood of power. Soul-crushing heaviness gets even more penetrative, driving through ugliness, the shrieks crushing as the leads glow. The playing then quiets as melodies fall softly like ash from the skies, heavy emotion then crashes through the walls as doom bells chime, and the playing crumbles like an aged, decaying building.

“Interlude” is the only non-numbered track, and it’s to give you a breather before the second half, letting sounds trickle and numb, slowly bleeding out toward “Penance (XII)” that immediately creates a morbid aura. Growls engorge as sorrowful melodies get thicker and more foreboding, the guitars soaring amid a fiery assault. Growls retch as the guitars fire up, bruising as the pace tears open, the pace crushing and turning bone to power. The playing then slows to a funeral pace, rupturing anew as the darkness enshrouds, the shrieks crushing as sounds dissolve and disappear into an ambient wave. Closer “Legacy (XIII)” starts with soft acoustics and a burgeoning atmosphere, the leads feeling gazey and warm, a heartfelt push making the blood pump through your veins. Howls scar as the gutting sadness increases its hold, feeling overwhelming as the screams batter, pushing your heart to the limit. A deep pall of pain and coldness gradually increases, and a strange catchiness lands as the final moments lurk off into the dark.

Amarok’s anxiety and anguish over the state of our planet not only is understandable but should spark rage in anyone who hopes we still have a habitable planet for future generations. “Resilience” is a heavy message that makes your insides ache with the fear and fury over the ignorance so many people alive alongside us have for a climate that’s teetering on the edge of disaster. All hope is not yet lost, and there’s still time to fight, but we’re running out of time, and the funeral for our species is bound to be something we have earned outright.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://amarokdoom.bigcartel.com/product/preorder-amarok-resilience-black-180-gram-double-lp

Or here (Europe): https://vendettarecords.bigcartel.com/

For more on the label, go here: https://vendetta-records.com/

We don’t do a lot of reissues around here, which doesn’t mean we don’t like when music gets a new chance at life. There’s just so much new music flowing out of every corner that I’d rather tackle that stuff and leave reissues, live albums, and compilations to other sites with more than one person. But never say never.

Persistent Vision Records is a Virginia-based label that is doing a lot of reissues of out-of-print records and newer albums, and they’ve got two right now that are getting well-deserved second lives. One we covered back when it first came out, so we’ll get that that one. The other is “Insania,” the debut album from Mexican crushers Habak, who combine punk, hardcore, and metal into a mauling seven-track package. The album originally was released in 2014, and now this music can live on and find a new audience. Which is well deserved as the band—vocalist Alejandra Valdez, guitarists Eduardo Valdez and Juan Cintora, bassist Alejandro Perez, drummer Patrick Alexander—was poking as societal woes that only had begun to crest and now are full-blown fires.

“Inmune al Dolor” opens by hovering dangerously, cold guitars drizzling, slowly punching up as Valdez’s acidic howls wrench into your chest. The bruising continues but slows for a stretch, and then howls scrape, dark and foreboding melodies envelop and eventually flow to a definitive flatline. “Orbe de Almas” charges with a punk-fueled rage, raspy wails whipping with stormy force. The playing lands blows and creates bruising, swimming into icy waters, speaking chilling, and gazey melodies mixing in with the chaos and slowly draining away. “Rostros Borrosos” opens with clean guitars and a foggy ambiance, and then monstrous howls erupt, building to a storming force that cannot be denied. The bass recoils as the guitars chime, the intensity whipping back in, ending with nasty intent.

“Condenado al Olvido” starts with plinking guitars and a hypnotic pressure as the playing rips open, and animalistic force stomping toward throats. The intensity rushes and battles before a psychedelic edge rises, pushing into New Wave-style melodies, giving way to a crushing end. The title track opens with Valdez’s raspy howls, the playing slashing through emotional terrain, group chants adding more adrenaline to the piece. Guitars lather as a fiery, channeled assault gives way, disappearing into darkness. “El Deceso/Vestigios” is the album ender, leading in with tumultuous, emotional carnage, melodies flowing as the power flexes with attitude. Sounds ache, Valdez’s wails press muscles, and sounds flow into moody darkness and aching misery before the pace explodes, shrieks breathe fire, and the sparks fly, letting the final moment singe the flesh. There also is a live version of “Orbe de Almas” at the end, giving you as taste of how incendiary the band is live.

A decade after “Insania” arrived for the first time, this remastered version hopefully will reach even more ears with this reissue. You can be a fan of metal, hardcore, punk, and other dark arts and find plenty to like with this band and album, as their energy and passion are impossible to dislike. A lot of time has passed since this band unleashed this record, and it sounds as vibrant and urgent as it did on that day.

We also have another reissue from Persistent Vision that we’ve covered before but still is worth your time and money. In advance of their upcoming third record, we get a fresh chance to appreciate Fórn’s debut “The Departure of Consciousness.” This record also dawned in 2014 and twisted funeral doom into a darker, bloodier corner, leaning less on elegance and more on carnage. The copy I ordered just arrived this week, and listening to this again on fresh wax was a great experience. It made me remember why I got into this band in the first place, and there is so much going on with these six tracks and 32 minutes that it’s easy to get lost in the carnage. And it’s worth it. Like the Habak album, it hits just as hard, if not harder, a decade into its lifespan.

Here’s what we wrote in the dark ages of this site when this record came out. meatmeadmetal.com/2015/03/05/gilead-media-offers-up-diverse-releases-with-forns-metallic-muscle-implodes-hazy-dreams/

For more on Habak, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Habakpunx

For more on Fórn, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Forndoom

To buy either album, go here: https://persistentvisionrecords.com/collections/persistent-vision-releases

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

Stretching out over the cosmos and imagining galaxies we cannot even see with the most powerful equipment on earth really does something to the imagination. There are places and things we’ll never see, that we don’t even know exist, and there’s a great chance no one alive at this time ever will experience those things. But we can dream.

“Heavenly Down,” the new record from long-running Hungarian metal force Sear Bliss, is a collection that should push you beyond earthly boundaries. For a band that’s been around for three decades and now nine records, they keep finding ways to expand their own horizons, which we hear on this eight-track excursion. You can get lost right away as this force—vocalist/bassist/guitarist András Nagy, guitarists Márton Kertész and Zoltán Vigh, trombone player and backing vocalist Zoltán Pál, drummer Gyula Csejtei—pushes you into the stars and beyond, rushing you into places never before visited, impossible to conceive, and accessible just by indulging in these fascinating 44 minutes.

“Infinite Grey” is murky at first, but then the synth sinks in, and the growls unfurl, and we’re off to a spacey death soup. Horns blow as ugly howls sink in their teeth, a mystical presence that spreads its wings and soars, mangling with glorious power before disappearing into clouds. “Watershed” starts with keys before blows land hard, dark and plodding as the growls curdle. The playing grows more vicious but also gets more melodic, glorious horns ringing out, a synth sheen spreading, dripping into prog puddles. “The Upper World” drills and smears, immersing you in their power, the trombone pulsing as the driving pace picks and pushes even harder. The pace pulls back some, letting you breathe, before the band unloads again, pummeling and stabbing, the fluid pace swallowing you whole. The title track flows heavily, drizzling while shrieks rain down, blistering and swimming in the chaos. The gaze thickens as melodic layers create a solid foundation, landing deep in colder waters, shimmering to the end.

“Forgotten Deities” is an instrumental that lands with soft keys, deep space synth creating a greater lather, easing and plinking, the trombone pumping notes, the pace lightly drubbing. “The Winding Path” tears open, shrieks knifing toward you, the guitars taking off toward the stars right after the brutality leaves bruising. The guitars bask in light as the keys plink, working through thick steam and humidity, meeting up with viscous, generous melodies that gust before bleeding away. “Chasm” is punchy and burly, fire breathing from throats, the howls crushing with precision. Clean singing cools before wild wails grab throats, sweeping into larger melodies, the horns sparking emotional highs, static and keys ushering in a softer landing. Closer “Feathers in Ashes” feels gothy out of the gate, and then guitars charge, vile black metal melodies making their way toward you. Keys liquify as the leads flex muscles, the playing dashing with energy, the filth suddenly multiplying, chants following a mysterious fog into the void.

Sear Bliss’ cosmic force is as engaging and intoxicating as ever on “Heavenly Down,” a record that transports the band into even more fascinating worlds than ever before. It certainly keeps in tact Sear Bliss’ black metal roots but pushes even further into more exploratory terrain and alien worlds. This is ideal music for late night contemplation where the spasms of brutality that mix in with the immersive melodies create a soundtrack to trying to reach something beyond yourself and this world.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://hammerheartstore.com/collections/vendors?q=Sear%20Bliss

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

Very few worthwhile things happen without a struggle and taking on pain and aggravation as our journeys continue. Typically we cover a lot of music that has dark, foreboding themes, and that’s not really going to change today. But there are ways through the pain and darkness that can have a positive net result, making that struggle worth it.

Taking on any record Sumac releases is an exercise in stamina, and “The Healer” is no exception. Over four tracks and a crushing 76 minutes, the band—guitarist/vocalist Aaron Turner, bassist Brian Cook, drummer Nick Yacyshyn—builds atmospheric sludge, glacial doom, and barreling improvisation on a record that weighs the wounds we all suffer, be it physically or mentally, and how the fight through that can result in newfound strength. Life doesn’t have to be dour and grim from bell to bell, and instead we can use these experiences for enrichment and a way to strengthen ourselves even further.

“World of Light” is the opener and the longest track, running a healthy 25:54 and taking its time to form its ambiance. Noise builds as sounds vibrate, Turner’s growls punishing, feeling beastly and feral. The heat boils as cosmic visions increase, heat rays punishing as the growls dig into the earth, a brief bit of calm spreading before the playing drips, light bursting as a gentle stream flows, eventually bursting into seething doom. Roars clobber as the playing actively thrashes, battering and drawing blood. “Yellow Dawn” opens with keys brimming, a psychedelic haze spreading, the playing eventually adding muscle as the howls rip. The pace mashes as blood races, hulking bass driving, guitars frying the senses as the playing bruises harder. Psyche edges spit heat as everything barrels into a flood of feedback, the playing bruises and melting flesh from bone.

“New Rites” slowly boils, jarring shots landing, guitars stabbing and charring, the riffs crushing and trudging. Roars punish as the playing twists and turns bone to dust, rattling and sizzling as the drums spatter. Fire licks bends as the guitars build momentum, increasing the agitation as harsh howls peel flesh, the playing slowly destroying before ending abruptly. “The Stone’s Turn” is the 24:35-long closer, coming in charging and corroding, crazed wails meeting with frying guitars. Deep growls maul as the sinister intent increases, spiraling into dizzying playing before everything goes cold. The heat slowly rises as the ice melts, howls flaring up as the guitars trace scars, the smoke from the collecting fires getting more intense. Howls crush as blasts stampede, guitars boil over dangerously, and the accumulating sounds lap over the earth.

There’s no such thing as smooth sailing or a brief sojourn when it comes to Sumac, and “The Healer” undoubtedly delivers in that department and more. For something as barbaric and impossibly heavy as this record is, there is light behind it and hope, and all of that combines into a new sense of strength. It’s a challenging excursion, one that will demand the most of you, but taking on that task results in new confidence and a renewed vigor for life that awaits at the end of this devastating journey.  

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

To buy the album, go here: https://thrilljockey.com/products/the-healer

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

It’s insane to think that it’s 2024, and we’re still listening to men try to slot women in our societies. Men still get paid more, they try to pass legislation (and often succeed) that limit women’s healthcare options, and those on the far right have done everything in their power to try to push women back into traditional roles that are as archaic as their ideas.

Austrian black metal force Perchta also stand to challenge those old ways with their explosive new record “D’Muata” (translates as mother) that expresses feminine ideals and makes the case for motherhood that doesn’t relegate a women to a kitchen. The band—Frau Percht (vocalist, Teufelsgeige, percussions), Walscher Fabio D’Amore (bass, keys, programming), Loda Chris Knoll (guitars), Gsell Lukas Massinger (guitars), Moosmandl Christian Höll (dulcimer), Håscht Simon Schnückel (drums)—presents matters such as the journey of motherhood, female sexuality, violence against women, loss of a child, and many other vital elements in a way that doesn’t paint these roles into a corner and reduce women to these roles. It shines a greater light and pays respect to the strength women possess and the stress they must endure while also handling other roles. It’s a battle cry for the strong, independent woman.

“Vom Verlånga” starts with dulcimer ringing before a huge surge, the shrieks peeling paint off the walls. Percht’s clean singing is incredibly powerful and sounds great, a real weapon for this band. Leads glimmer as the power combusts, fluttering out in strings. “Ois wås ma san” is mystical as is starts before the doors are blown off, spellbinding drama raging, making your heart race. The clean singing again powers, and then things go into folkish waters, coming out of that with hearty melodies and a storming force before burning off. Heiliges Bluat” is a quick interlude-style track with dulcimer hammers, guitars plucked, and speaking and howls uniting before trickling away. “Hebamm” is gazey and breezier as it starts, the singing harmonizing as the track drills you in the teeth. Shrieks punish as the pace dizzies, mixing into folkish singing and then letting the guitars take off, the dulcimer sparking further wonder. Guitars smear as the singing and shrieks unite, the light and dark blending together, claps and mouth harp disappearing into the weeds.

The title track breezes in on whispers before strings rise, and forceful howls increase the wind speeds. The playing decimates as group chants rouse, gentler strains let more atmosphere into the room, and the shrieks gut before the track comes to a ripping end. “Wehenkanon” is a shorter track that starts with something that sounds like an engine firing up, then the singing swirls in the air, percussion getting more active, the strings coming on strong as screams crack the surface as things end in a magical pit of dreams. “Ausbruch” is a strange, ambient interlude, yells and strange noises playing games with your mind, bleeding into “Långtuttin & Stampa” that starts with creaks and moans. Chimes cascade as metallic fury builds, Percht’s howls rippling down your spine. The agony pours as cries crack bones, scathing guitars increase the fury, and the warbling melodies scrape off flesh. The playing strangles as guitars get more aggressive, blazing through black metal waters, crushing with urgency before zapping out. Closer “Mei Dianä Mei Bua” starts with choral gusts, dulcimer, and then guttural howls tearing the ribs from your chest. Group singing rouses as metallic devastation spreads, a strong folkish flow slides underneath the power, acoustics rinse, and a baby’s call echoes, the drums sending us out into space.

“D’Muata” not only is a refreshing listen for their style of black metal and the native sounds they build into their recipe, but having femininity and the forces that surround that such a huge part of this record also helps it stand out. Perchta explore terrain that long has gone undiscovered in heavy metal and do so in such a powerful and alluring way that you can’t help but to get swept up in their creations. This record floods the senses and leaves you enthralled and exhausted in the best possible way when it’s done.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://us.spkr.media/us/Artists/Perchta/

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

There are thousands of records released each year in the realm of heavy metal and its surrounding terrain, and it’s easy to say that most of it is dark to its core, sometimes disturbingly so. That leaves a lot of place for music that doesn’t delve in the worst elements of society and that can give you a breath of fresh air from the carnage.

Long-running duo Alcest have plied black metal, shoegaze, and wondrous sentiments into their music, and their forays into magical, fictional worlds always separated themselves from the pack. That carries over onto “Les Chants de L’Aurore,” their seventh record and first since 2019’s “Spiritual Instinct.” After a time of great uncertainty that haunted us all, the band—vocalist, guitarist, bassist, synth player Neige and drummer Winterhalter—retreated back into that inner world to find something that provided solace. We’re surrounded by so much negativity and anxiety each day, that having something that can help you escape that for about 45 minutes can be the relief one needs to persevere.

“Komorebi” starts in a bright haze with effusive singing and soaring melodies. It’s apparent right away how much the band is exploring the light, the energy and playing gushing, another major gust in the final minute settling into an angelic finish. “L’Envol” is punchier when it starts, the fog deepening as the pace swells. The catchiness is impossible to shake as the moodiness increases, and Neige’s singing makes clouds burst, sunbeams swallowing everything whole. Vicious shrieks arrive, reminding that thorns exist in this realm, synth beams melting away the remaining ice. “Améthyste” opens with guitars churning and sweeping, the pace injecting energy. Guitars swirl before a sense of calm permeates, the shrieks bursting, and then shadowy singing emerging, driving as the playing continues to rupture. Melodies shine as energy floods, and melodic waves wash ashore.

“Flamme Jumelle” has guitars dripping and smooth singing, howls following later as dreamland enchantment is achieved. Cool playing gusts as the singing keeps digging deeper, filling the senses and cooling your lungs, the playing cascading as the cloud cover thickens. “Réminiscence” is a quick piece with keys and cello scrapes, the singing soothing as a choral haze envelopes your mind. “L’Enfant de la Lune” starts with speaking tingling the senses, the playing tearing open with strong singing leading the way, the pace storming into spacious atmosphere. The playing calms as the guitars layer, the singing eventually cutting through and amplifying the emotion. A brief gasp of serenity meets with a sudden jolt, everything spilling over into a static-rich finish. Closer “L’Adieu” is moody and dark, gentle singing wafting, glazing as the strings build. The dreamy sequence numbs, the elegance spreading its crystal-colored wings and soaring into the black.

Alcest’s worldview always has been different than most heavy bands, and that largely has to do with their colorful imagination and refusal to shy away from exploring positive energies. “Les Chants de L’Aurore” is a new chapter that combines all the best of Alcest’s history, remaining dreamy and exploratory while visiting the edgier and bloodier moments of their kingdom. This is a nice new entry, another chapter flowing with colors and shades that can be a welcome breather to the chaos and uncertainty of existence.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.nuclearblast.com/collections/alcest/products/alcest-les-chants-de-laurore-pre-order

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

I like a good story as much as the next person, and having a lot of records these days that concentrate on a plot line or a collection of interwoven ideas has kept my busy mind pretty engaged. But there are times I just want to be beaten about the head and torso by something that promises heaviness and violence, which can be just as rewarding.

Turkish/Danish death metal squad Hyperdontia aren’t as interested in telling stories as they are pushing your face to the grind stone. This is death metal through and through, it’s well played and constructed, and it keeps getting more intense as they go. On their third record “Harvest of Malevolence,” the band—vocalist/guitarist Mathias Friborg, guitarist Mustafa Gürcalioğlu, bassist Malik Camlica, drummer Tuna—lays down a beating that leaves its mark. Over eight tracks and 40 minutes, this quartet stretches their prowess and deliver death metal that’s to the point and will bloody your mouth.

“Death’s Embrace” rips and boils from the start, growls destroying as the playing scrambles brain signals. From there, the pace jars and rips, the leads take off, and the heat increases as the final blows land. “Salvation in Death” thrashes as the bass playing bubbles, mashing as the growls clog veins. Things turn even more bruising and vicious as the pace races and snarls, blazing as vicious jabs rob the lings of breath. “Marking the Rite” is crunchy and charging, vicious growls mixing in with an attack that’s direct and draws blood. The leads encircle as the soloing explodes and spreads lava, the madness stirring as violent gasps struggle for oxygen. “Pestering Lamentations” has the bass slithering in, infernal howls meeting up with guitars that destroy and hypnotize. The guitars gain steam as the thrashiness blisters, spiraling out and pooling plasma and guts beneath.

“Pervasive Rot” starts with the guitars fluttering, infernal heat growing more intense, sooty death rolling around in a pile of guts. The bass recoils as the guitars foam at the mouth, the playing bristling and mangling before finally offering some mercy. “Irrevocable Disaster” tangles and brawls, the growls burning as the pressure builds, the drums drilling as the growls incinerate. The fury brawls as the leads spiral, delivering a lashing that’ll keep you down. “Defame Flesh” opens with doomy guitars and wiry, fiery heat, the playing swirling through dizzying hell. The vocals are throatier and meaner, the bass twisting muscles, the pace erupting and even letting some melody into the room. Closer “Servant to a Crippled God” dawns amid coarse growls and active riffs, the playing searching through diseased bellies and mental madness. Guitars lather as the playing gets chunkier, the intensity ramping up and crushing, leading a pathway to damnation.

“Harvest of Malevolence” is a slab of death metal that doesn’t need an ongoing storyline or deep excursions into personal issues in order to be memorable. Hyperdontia already have a pretty strong grip on their brand of death metal, and on this album, they tighten their hold and make sure you feel every bit of the devastation. There’s no such thing as a sure bet, but Hyperdontia putting out a killer buffet of riveting death is about as close as you can get.

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

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

Or here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/product-category/me-saco-un-ojo-releases/

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

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

There are plenty of really good metal records that arrive each year that are worth your time and money. There’s a smaller subset of releases that are worthy of considering as that year’s best, those that rise above the onslaught of music that arrives during a 12-month period. Then there are the albums that sit in rarified air, music so powerful that is rises to a special level very few recordings ever achieve.

“The Stygian Rose,” the third record by Philly-based epic doom creators Crypt Sermon, is one of those that sits above the rest, a collection that has a comet-into-earth impact on first listen. It just ripples even harder each subsequent visit, and if you’re like me, there will be many of those. Over six tracks and 45 minutes, the band—vocalist Brooks Wilson, guitarists Steve Jansson and Frank Chin, bassist Matt Knox, keyboardist Tanner Anderson, drummer Enrique Sagarnaga—creates a story about an unnamed character inspired by Paschal Beverly Randolf, an American spiritualist and sex magician whose views on gender identity were well before his time. Here, the character longs to find his possibly dead/definitely lost female equal, who is believed to be waiting for him beyond in the hollow. It makes for a dramatic, breathtaking album that builds expertly, causing your heart to race with their passionate, classic serving of heavy metal that’ll stone you in your place.

“Glimmers in the Underworld” emerges from beyond, tearing open with sprawling doom and Wilson’s dramatic singing at an apex, calling, “I’ll die with my eyes open just to get a good look at hell.” Guitars erupt and flood over, energy jolting as the vocals get grimier, melting into the cold. The chorus swims through the murk, Wilson conjuring demons as he wails, “They’re right behind you through the black, black, black!” “Thunder (Perfect Mind)” feels humid, hazy leads stretching like lightning, the singing digging deeper into the dirt, Wilson singing, “As above, so below, there’s so much more to know.” The chorus fires up again as fiery playing erupts, glorious energy bustling as the keys leave an ice skid behind. “Down in the Hollow” is misty as it charges up, Wilson’s singing feeling both muscular and scathing, dark and ominous melodies working up your spine. The playing charges up as the fluid assault pulls you under, Wilson lashing, “They know my name, she knows my name,” as chugging punches leave deep wounds.

“Heavy Is the Crown of Bone” opens with hazy guitars, and then the pace chugs and thrashes, growing more epic in scope along the way. Glimmering guitars thicken the magical essence, and a simple chorus rouses and sticks to the bone, continually coming back for more, always sweeping with majestic lure. “Scrying Orb” is a standout track, much like “Christ Is Dead” from “The Ruins of Fading Light” or “Heavy Riders” from “Out of the Garden,” that one track that stands out above the rest and makes a case for one of the modern era’s best metal songs. The playing is mystical, pushing through darkened, web-tangled rooms, Wilson calling, “I know I should be more afraid, but I have come back for you.” The chorus is a killer and will stick in your head for days, Wilson singing, “I have heard the cries coming from the other side of the scrying orb.” Guitars fire up as the temperatures rise, coming to a dramatic, gothy end. The 11:10-long closing title track opens with piano dripping, the cosmos opening its jaws, dark guitars mixing with keys that leave an ominous glaze. “The black bloom will be restored,” Wilson insists, the guitars picking up and jarring anew, the melodies mixing with eerie fogginess. The power folds as the playing drives slower, the spirits rise, and everything fades into black.

The mysteries woven into “The Stygian Rose” and the top-notch playing elevate Crypt Sermon to the modern throne of epic doom metal with this, their finest hour. You can take on this album and ignore the messages entirely and still walk away completely fulfilled by a record that is a force of nature from front to back. If you delve into the words and their meanings, and you should, you get an even more full-bodied experience, an album that will stick with you not only the remainer of the year, but likely spanning your lifetime as a listener. This music is that transcendent.

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

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

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

Music should be a commitment for both the artist and the listener, as it forms a relationship that can enrich lives, salve wounds, and connect us to something greater. But we live in an era where people sample from streaming platforms more than ever, and that relationship to a record isn’t made quite as often as it used to be. We can drop in and drop out, no strings attached.

Metal listeners seem to be a different animal altogether, and the amount of bands that commit to epic-length songs and marathon records is plentiful. One of those is Jersey-based sludge/doom crushers Cowardice, who have not graced us with a full-length album in eight years. That ends with “Atavist,” an 11-track, 85-minute bruiser that does demand your time and energy and won’t just let you off easily after a track or two. The album is divided into two parts, “Suzerain” and “Sentinel,” that have slightly different personas but work perfectly to create a greater whole. The band—vocalist Mark Guiliano, guitarists Julian Cardazone and Nick Zwiren, bassist Stephen Edwards, drummer Chris Ward—is at the top of their game here, pouring all of their vitriol and power into this record that flies by and feels about half as long as it really is.

“To the Hilt of Humanity” opens the record and the “Suzerain” portion, dripping blackness before the heaviness arrives in droves, shrieks gutting amid melodic fog. The playing buzzes as the guitars numb, later soaring and taking on atmospheric sheen, lumbering as it adds bruising. Layers add textures, guitars surge and trudge, and ugliness burns into the ground. “Cloisters” emerges in a guitar cloud, pounding and boiling in melody, a beastly fury swimming into airy passages that cool the flesh. The leads quiver as guest vocalist Kate Parker’s singing adds new colors, elevating the already strong emotion into a tidal wave. “Panicle of Lowliness” is a quick instrumental piece that exists in shadows, guitars slinking and searching through the dark, leaving mystery behind. “Unforgeable Key” opens with drums echoing and the growls retching, clawing and slithering through the mud, doom glimmering during moody storms. The playing gets chunkier as the drums hit harder, the blistering pressure mounting, swimming even deeper into the murk, scraping across flesh, leaving blood trails behind. “Eastern Woodland Reverie” completely levels you right away, howls crushing before the playing gets colder, journeying through thickening weather, the strength reopening and getting deadlier. The atmosphere gazes and numbs, hellish howls belting out into the night, the sludge collecting before the temperatures drop again. The playing is elegant and easily obscures vision, flooding as everything is consumed by noise zaps. “Moss Stone” rounds out the first half, guitars hypnotizing, singing floating like a ghost, the brief track slowly disappearing into space.

“Clairvoyance Anxiety” begins the “Sentinel” portion, a darker beast that brings glowing leads, monstrous growls, and drubbing playing, a vile sentiment wrapped around every moment. Guitars add haze as the punches land harder, the playing tricking your mind, the howls decimating as the pace keeps pounding away. From there, the guitars catch fire and torch land, the heaviness growing more oppressive and laying waste. “The Diminutive Principle” slowly batters, the leads frying as they fold and burn into muddy waters. There’s a slight Western vibe to the melodies, guitars sliding as forceful howls erupt, lacerating as wounds flow openly. “Aphelion” is a glassy-eyed interlude, guitars making it feel like your legs are betraying you, your mind helplessly wandering into the darkest possible terrain. “Annulment” is dark and foreboding, Parker’s voice returning to haunt, the playing exploding as harsh wails enter the room. The force is massive and hulking, acidic gusts eating away at your flesh, ugly punishment having its way with your psyche. Drums combust as wrenching hell bubbles up to the surface, guitars lapping over bruising growls, drums encircling as echoes consume whole. Mammoth closer “Hail of Mages” runs 17:08 and makes the most of its time, developing slowly, thoroughly numbing, the growls ripping away at your muscles. The playing is stormy and battering, hypnotic guitars making your head spin, the drums coming unglued as every inch of this thing bristles. The pace gets deadlier as heavy blows take their toll, melodic lava spreads, and the final notes ring out into time.

“Atavist” is a record that demands your time and energy, and you will give up a plethora of both when committing to this journey. Luckily, it’s more than worth it as Cowardice serve a stunning display of sludgy doom that might not rewrite the book on this style but adds a steady and crucial element to this subgenre’s foundation. It aligns with all the personal darkness and torment in your mind and reminds you that you’re not alone, and that even though it’s part of your life, you can take hold of reality and bend it to your will.

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

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

Or here (US): https://riffmerchant.bandcamp.com/album/atavist

Or here (UK): https://www.burningworldrecords.com/collections/burning-world-records/products/cowardice-atavist-2lp-green-with-red-vinyl-pre-order

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

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

Most people have a limit, or at least that’s seemingly so. Most of us won’t take someone’s life if they cut in front of us on the road or take vital supplies that don’t belong to us or steal money from other people because we perceive these actions as being wrong. But people have been pushed beyond those limits, and depending on how far one goes, there could be little chance of turning back.

New Zealand-based death/black metal trio Ulcerate put that philosophy to the test when creating their seventh record “Cutting the Throat of God.” These seven tracks, while not a concept record, do combine to examine the idea of morality and when and why someone crosses the line into darkness. As we’ve come to expect from this band—bassist/vocalist Paul Kelland, guitarist Michael Hoggard, drummer Jamie Saint Merat—they deliver dense, cement-thick punishment over nearly 58 minutes. Pushing beyond reason, past one’s moral compass generally takes a pretty extreme circumstance for that to happen, and once we’re there, how do we pull back, if that’s even possible?

“To Flow Through Ashen Hearts” opens with guitars melting, dripping liquid steel, the roars crushing as the beastly flow gains muscle. Cagey and furious, the strength leaves ash, the atmosphere thickening as the playing gets tougher, wailing into colder waters, churning savagery, and railing to an abrupt finish. “The Dawn Is Hollow” emerges from steam, unloading with ferocity, tearing at flesh, the guitars making frayed nerves tingle. Alien sounds land as beastly heat rises, roars loosening bricks, the playing blasting away at everything, the gargantuan strength landing the final blows. “Further Opening the Wounds” is hazy at the start, and then the assault bursts, the playing stinging, the howls pounding away at you, rampaging and gaining steam. The roars crush bones, bludgeoning as the playing spits nails, trudging over ice and unforgiving terrain, the final moments flattening.

“Transfiguration In and Out of Worlds” is eerie and chilling, cold trickling and making your body shake uncontrollably, sooty howls echoing as the guitars sting and become even more aggressive. Cavernous sounds envelope as the power lands knife-edge chops, the drums mangling, numbing and surging, the guitars snaking through blood and into the light. “To See Death Just Once” swelters as the ground shakes, prodding and pounding, a hulking force eating across the land. Guitars smear as the heat wilts, turning into a more calming flow, lending solace before the fires consume again. Drums welt flesh as hell is unleashed, the leads jarring before burning off. “Undying as an Apparition” is melodic but mean, glazing as the roars crunch, weirdness thickening as the savagery comes to life. The playing is fluid but morbid, getting enthralling and immersive as you’re pulled into hell, the battering having its way and leaving you prone to further attacks. The title track closes the affair, emerging as a blunt force that snarls, stoking at the flames and ripping as the melodies curdle. The playing hits even harder, stabbing into the muck, blistering as the inhumane force weighs down violently, spiraling into savage growls, the force swelling as the smothering damage chokes you into submission.

“Cutting the Throat of God” is a title not to be taken lightly, as its force and intent are poisonous and force you to confront whatever line of morality you choose to draw for yourself. Ulcerate’s battering brand of death metal is a concoction truly their own, and they continue to challenge you to withstand their physical attack as you wrestle with the themes interwoven into the chaos. This is a record that forces you to confront your limits, what you’re willing to do step over that line, and the depravity and madness that accompanies this journey straight over the edge into hell.

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

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

Or here (Europe): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/12-eshop

For more on the label, go here: https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/