When I was a child, I got an infection in my hip that skyrocketed my body temperature and made me hallucinate. One of them that I can remember is seeing what was in front of me and having everything divide into four squares and change placement, arranging themselves randomly. Your brain can do unsettling things when you’re not well.

Australian death/black metal beasts Ploughshare delve into similar territory (well, sort of) on their explosive third full-length “Second Wound,” a weighty slab that takes some patience and imagination to fully indulge. For these songs, the nameless mystery of a quartet use as an inspiration the 14^th century creation Revelations of Divine Love by Julian of Norwich that is a Christian devotion inspired by visions she experienced when deathly ill in 1373. It’s a portrait of what she interpreted as levels of Christ’s love that she absorbed while not in her right mind, and the band adds a ghoulish, doomy, destructive edge to these texts. It’s a record that weighs down on you, forcing you to feel every moment like your feverish body is on the verge of collapse.

“Thorns Pressed Into His Head” is faster and more urgent, scorching and trampling as trauma guts completely. The bass curls as the vocals strangle, the playing worming into oblivion, savagery unwinding as devastation peaks, disappearing into the stars. “The Mockery of the Demons” brings burning guitars and quivering bass, the playing disorienting, fiery cries hurtling into the sun. Chaos spills over as madness ensues, panicked sounds turning back toward the storm, sounds droning into the earth. Howls echo as the bass bubbles, melting into discordance, cosmic winds chilling flesh. Closer “So Reverend and Dreadful” rips open, confounding as the playing dashes and scars, the crazed vocals going for the throat. Humidity thickens as sounds float on darkened clouds, a hypnotic fury torching flesh. The playing cools as noise penetrates, mind-altering passages fading into miasmal woes.

“The Fall of All Creatures” opens in dissonance and then roars, guitars angling as a wild push makes your brain send mixed signals. The bass bends as the speed becomes a bigger factor, smashing through a haze, the guitars tingling as the force continues to knife through to the vital organs. Manic cries ripple, a beastly rise consumes flesh, and sounds echo before evaporation. “Desired Second Wound” opens with the bass creeping through eeriness, guitars icing as howls rip, unleashing a numbing pace that makes it feel like you’re spiraling into a dream world. The pace dizzies as the band storms into progressive waters, howls destroying as the tempo reached tornadic force, storming until an icy front takes over. Sounds hang in the air as a strange aura simmers, the playing rumbling into a vortex that consumes whole.

The bizarre pressure and disarming messaging Ploughshare pack into “Second Wound” might date back to source material centuries old, but these themes and ideas still exist today. The reaching out to something beyond ourselves in states is extreme discomfort might reek of hallucination, but there are people who buy into it very deeply. This music is a reminder and visitation, a deep journey into the middle of a psychosis that often can’t be cracked and maybe even understood.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://metalodyssey.8merch.us/

Or here (Europe): https://metalodyssey.8merch.com/

Or here: https://brilliantemperor.bandcamp.com/album/second-wound

For more on the label, go here: https://www.facebook.com/i.voidhanger.records/

And here: https://www.facebook.com/BrilliantEmperorRecords

None of us are the same people we were last year at this time. Now, stretch that idea over years, decades, and think about the growth and progression we (hopefully) have made. We are made up of parts of our past and what we’ve picked up over time, and our bodies change and regenerate over the years, further transforming what makes us whole.

We haven’t heard from doom/sludge bruisers Fórn since 2018’s “Rites of Despair,” and in that time since, we’ve gone through a lot as people and a world. It’s clear its members—vocalist Chris Pinto, guitarist/electronics master Joey Gonzalez, guitarist Danny Boyd, bassist Brian Barbaruolo, vocalist/synth player Lane Shi Otayonii (of Elizabeth Colour Wheel who now joins the lineup), drummer Andrew Nault (Josh Brettell played drums on the record)—also have developed into new forms as you can hear on their great new record “Repercussions of the Self.” Their sludge foundation remains, but built on top of it are more electronic influences (Gonzalez cites Massive Attack, Portishead, Nine Inch Nails, Trent Reznor/Atticus Ross as further inspiration), as well as Otayonii’s added touches that make this band a more formidable and varied creature. This record is much different from what you’ve heard of them from the past, but it’s a natural, thrilling progression that proves this band always was capable of so much more.

“Pact of Forgetting” is a mechanical nightmare, Pinto’s voice warbling as the playing crunches slowly, synth swirling as dreams come in greyscale. The playing then pounds away, fog enveloping as a deliberate pace leaks into shadows. “Soul Shadow” instantly enters into a deathly doom pall, growls buried in a melodic miasma. Otayonii’s singing becomes an early factor, adding a chilling edge, the sounds stretching and contorting, growls adding a gritty edge. The playing turns burly and spacious, trudging into waters with cold and warm edges, the electricity exploding, leads exploding into oblivion. “Hela’s Choir” dawns in static, beats echoing, hazy guitars leaning into anguishes calls. Otayonii’s wordless cries set your mind at ease and spark cortisol flow, surging into hypnosis before folding into time.

“Anamnesis” brings churning guitars, thick fog emerging from crevices, beats clashing and echoing in your ears. Sounds scuff and sooty doom thickens, electro beats bouncing off walls, heat rising off the top of this instrumental. “Regrets Abyss” starts clean before an elegant burst, growls menacing as the guitars pick up and eat through muscle, working into a haze that blankets the sky. Sounds churn as melodies get brighter, the guitars building and glimmering, roars mauling, blazing to a scathing finish. Closer “Dreams of the Blood” haunts, a smoky essence unfolding, voices warbling before growls sink teeth into flesh. The playing lathers with heat, leads wandering into hypnosis, dissolving into a humid night. Otayonii’s calls feel like a message from a dream, and then the playing explodes, going faster than ever as growls maul, acidic passages eat through bone, and gazey drama peaks and then cascades, disappearing into oblivion.

Change and progress are good, fruitful things whether it applies to our own lives or the music Fórn have created the past decade. “Repercussions of the Self” shows a band with a renewed focus and a sound that is developing more in what reflects their creative visions, and this record helps them break past pure sludge metal without losing an ounce of their impact. This is an exciting new chapter for this band, one that could find them shape-shifting even further into a more dexterous, dangerous beast.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://persistentvisionrecords.com/products/forn-repercussions-of-the-self

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

I grew up in an era when heavy metal as a basic concept was feared. I can laugh at it now, and I’m sure if I said that directly to younger listeners, they’d roll their eyes because there are so many things legitimately more frightening than this style of music. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t band that are utterly terrifying that scorch you to your nuts and bolts.

Fun story: The first time I ever heard Black Curse I was on my way to a root canal appointment way out of town at the beginning of the lockdown because it was the only dentist office that would see me. I absorbed their 2020 debut “Endless Wound” on that trip and during the procedure, and it fried my brains. No nitrous oxide either! Fast forward four years and the band—vocalist/guitarist Eli Wendler, guitarist Jonathan Campos, bassist Morris Kolontyrsky, drummer Antinom—who also dot lineups including Blood Incantation, Khemmis, Spectral Voice, and Primitive Man, is back with “Burning With Celestial Poison,” a five-track, 45-minute destroyer that is heavier and hungrier than their debut and overflowing with torturous madness that will eat away at your brain. Seriously.

“Spleen Girt With Serpent” opens the record and runs a healthy 10:51, firing up and ripping right through your mid-section. Molten chaos unfurls as a cacophony of chaos emerges, making it feel like your brain is oozing black goo, yes, just like Papa Shango used to conjure. Ugh, WWF, early ’90s. From there, the fires engulf fully, gargantuan pounding doing the bidding as lava rages, and you do your best to avoid knife swipes in the dark. The drums echo as regal blackness unfurls, the howls warping as a vicious wave pulls everything under. “Trodden Flesh” is the longest track, weighing in at 11:47, and it’s eerie at first before guts are stomped, shrieks scarring as the pace pulls back just a bit to let the bruising sink in. The next wave burns you to a crisp, a wild explosion of violent insanity dominating, the band thrashing with merciless intent, pulling guts from mouths, absolutely enforcing its will, the guitars catching fire yet again and burning into oblivion.

“Ruinous Paths…” stampedes, the drums rampaging, guitars racing and keeping pace expertly. That all combusts into violence, glorious savagery having its way with your psyche, howls battering along the way. The playing gets dizzying, which is understandable as the room surely is spinning, and then the drums turn rock to dust, the decimation becoming a manic burst right into “… to Babylon” that strangles with black filth. It’s a total blackout, your mind being bombarded with relentless sound and fury, inhuman screams lathering with psychotic breaks, the playing pounding without a hint of mercy until its frosty finish. “Flowers of Gethsemane” closes this monster, an 11:09-long demon that ramps up the anxiety before a blazing front devours serenity whole, bursting and brutalizing with no hopes of a breath. The vocals engorge as the tempo swallows you whole, gutting as the gas pedal is jammed through the floor, the playing shredding any sense of psychological well-being you have left. From there, the playing causes a temporary deep freeze, but a raucous onslaught ends all of that, opening the flood gates for an acidic last push that mains.

“Burning in Celestial Poison” is a diseased beast striking at your throat in complete delirium. You don’t know what’s happening; the animal is sick. Black Curse is not an easy entity to confront, and doing so only is recommended if you fully understand what’s in front of you as you encounter this force. Yeah, it’s a metal record. But it’s much more than that, and entering its terrain unprepared will leave you ravaged beyond your comprehension.

For more on the band, go here: https://blackcurse-svr.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: http://www.sepulchralvoice.de/shop/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.sepulchralvoice.de/

It’s never not intimidating to look into the night sky, see the ocean of stars (that is when the haze of pollution isn’t obscuring such majesty), and wonder about the history that unfurled as that light made its way to be visible on our earth. It’s easy to feel microscopic as a result, our own existence paling in comparison, our life cycles over in a blink of the void’s eye.

Colorado-based doom dreamers Oryx also stand in front of that chasm of space and contemplate life, death, and what’s in between on their engulfing new record “Primordial Sky.” This is the band’s fifth album and one of their most realized, playing atmospheric doom over four mammoth tracks and 41 minutes that easily ignite every cell in your body. While the music is heavy and devastating, there is catharsis buried into each corner as the band—vocalist/guitarist/synth player Thomas Davis, bassist Joshua Kauffman, drummer Abigail Davis—does musical and mental contemplation, stretching beyond this world and into the stars, appreciating the majesty and might of what lies beyond and within ourselves.

The title track opens amid sounds burning in the atmosphere, doomy fire unleashed as the growls rumble through the earth, at times trading off with shredding shrieks. Haze thickens and hangs overhead as the tones darken, letting the barometric pressure strengthen as leads char before everything blooms in full again. An emotional surge pushes forward, gushing with heartfelt fire, the howls crushing as burly waves encompass everything. “Myopic” is engulfed in total blackness, and then the low end comes to life, shaking your guts, the growls smoking as grim reality takes control. The pace pummels and leaves bones aching, and then an acoustic passage washes over, adding a respite before the shrieks drive anew, every element unloading in full. The power floods as the battering spills blood downward, guitars glowing before turning into embers. 

“Ephemeral” opens delicately, softer guitars creating a pathway, and then the heaviness clogs veins, growls retching as the remaining sunlight is strangled, dirty, yet fluid melodies bubbling to the surface. The drums then hit even harder, a gutting pace laying waste, screams coming unglued and torching prone flesh. The corrosion doubles as a bruising beating is served, screams rippling before a vicious end. “Look Upon the Earth” is the closer, opening in deep space before the crunch hits terrestrial terrain, punches landing even as stardust continues to fall from the sky. The guitars thrust and accelerate the heat, sizzling through a thrashy wasteland, battering chaos seeking willing victims. The tempo explodes, spitting magma as the guitars dazzle, moving into a penetrating fog, slowly squeezing through wormholes and back into space.

As we make our way through life’s journey, contemplating where we stand and what impact we make to the universe is only natural, and “Primordial Sky” is the musical equivalent of that venture. Oryx make efficient use of their time, and even amid the longform doom template, they never waste a moment and make everything feel impactful. This is the most intense step on their journey so far, and spending time with this record can provide both a physical shakeup and a psychological mind storm all within the same dynamic experience. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://translationloss.com/collections/oryx

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

There are those who believe the current time in which we all live is merely a single line in many layers of existence that occur on numerous planes and throughout the universe. Who’s to say they’re wrong? We’re connected to so many realities on just this level, and our dreams and déjà vu moments have to come from somewhere, right? Are there more versions of us somewhere else with whom we’re wired?

If Dødheimsgard exists alongside of us here on earth, Doedsmaghird would be their twin on another timeline, creating strange, avant-garde black metal informed by electronics. Except, both bands live alongside us, as Doedsmaghird contains two members of Dødheimsgard—vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Yusaf “Vicotnik” Parvez, guitarist Camille Giradeau—and this project’s debut record “Omniverse Consciousness” explores similar cosmic corners but goes at it a little differently. This duo delves more into their main band’s past, more of what they created around the turn of the century, and what we hear on this nine-track record brings some industrial nostalgia with a daring rocket into the future.

“Heart of Hell” begins spaciously, sound exhaust wafting as synth bubbles and the growls curdle. The intensity continues to build as beats crackle and howls pile up, the weirdness getting chaotic as it swims through electro pulses. New Wavey warmth boils as sounds rattle, wordless calls chilling to the bone. “Sparker Inn Apne Dorer” is manic, speak-sing words leaving shatter marks, chants dashing as the playing blisters. Unsettling yelps meet with warbling samples, the punishing playing becoming a greater factor, spacey grains disappearing into a vacuum. “Then, to Darkness Return” attacks with black metal fury, folding into the psychosis, the vocals mangling veins. The words then strangle, commanding and marching as this brief track ends suddenly. “Endless Distance” meanders purposely through clouds, punching its way out as thick singing sets layers, the synth jarring before settling in black breezes. Howls wrench as the ugliness melts into the shadows, the playing stirring as jazzy keys cool before a burst of heats melts metal and brings a beastly end. “Endeavour” is an alluring interlude built with glistening and frosty keys, liturgical vocals, building a perfect entrance into the second half.

“Death of Time” explodes, smoke choking as the music stirs, howls leading the violent drive. Keys lap as the mists thicken, the singing icing the blood in your veins. Things gets kind of zany, sounds looping through animalistic growls, spiraling playing, and a whirling end. “Min Tid Er Omme” is trippy and punchy, keys zapping past the stars, driving through alien pulses you can feel in your organs. The playing burns harder and more savagely, keys reflecting surrounding lights, the mechanical arms twisting and warping steel, bouncy notes disappearing behind the moon. “Adrift Into Collapse” blazes right away, beats shattering, the playing storming as the growls crumble. The pace gets faster as the atmosphere turns hypnotic, going into a tornadic push that meets with warping screams and melodies doubling over. Synth strings add regality as a cinematic sound scape sends everything into closer “Requiem Transiens,” a quick outro with thick keys, fluttering singing, and bizarre winds causing freezing permanence.

On a record that plays with cosmic mysteries and parallel existences, Doedsmaghird feels like the spiritual version of current Dødheimsgard, bringing more of the electronic madness back to the forefront. “Omniverse Consciousness” is an ambitious, pulsating record that puts more industrial and mechanical bits back into black metal in a heavier dose. It might take some time for it to sink in its hooks, but once that happens, this record becomes a starting point for exploring the strangest ideas in your mind.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://usa-peaceville.myshopify.com/collections/doedsmaghird

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

We try to avoid hyperbole when we can, but it’s hard to do that sometimes as a writer who’s trying to describe music you likely haven’t heard yet, at least not in full. There are a lot of really good records that come out each week, and we try to get to all the ones we liked. But you get a really special one only now and again. A world-altering record is something I can remember a handful or so times the last decade, and today is one of those.

Yes, there’s a lot of hype and anticipation any time cosmic death metal band Blood Incantation does anything, and for good reason. The arrival of their third full-length album “Absolute Elsewhere” brings with it nervous anticipation of what exactly this thing would be. Last time we heard from the band—vocalist/guitarist Paul Riedl, guitarist Morris Kolontyrsky, fretless bassist Jeff Barrett, drummer Isaac Faulk—it was “Timewave Zero,” their ambient EP that wasn’t really a surprise but definitely led some to wonder where death metal stood in their universe. Turns out it’s still right in the fucking center, though there are plenty of passages that prove “Zero” wasn’t a lark, as they expertly combine the two worlds and create the most magnificent thing in their catalog. This is a record that, once it’s available to you, should be appointment listening, preferably in the black of night, on headphone or turntable (or both) so you can disappear into this landmark moment.

“The Stargate” is the opening track, running 20:20 and spread over three tablets. The first opens in a whir, a propulsive rush that tears apart and mangles its way to the stars. The playing is vicious and channeled, simmering into a synth haze that feels like it transports you five decades into the past, a heavy Floyd-esque excursion that is a tenet that returns often. “All life is temporary unless its consciousness,” Riedl howls, the leads smearing slow-falling ash that washes into the second tablet that simmers in the great beyond. It feels like oranges and purples are sinking into your psyche, shadowy sequences dashing past places undiscovered by humans, the playing picking up and getting more metallic. Guitars melt steel, crushing through a synth tidal wave, wrecking into the third tablet that stabs and illuminates. The battery spreads as glorious leads beam, voices warble, and the drumming decimates, a Middle Easten vibe tingling brain wrinkles. Trancey clean singing changes the temperature, howls returning to wrench muscles, the guitars catching fire and spiraling into a sound warp, dissolving into a black hole.

“The Message” runs 23:23, also divided into a triad of tablets, entering with catchy guitar work that feels strangely inviting. The fluidity multiplies as the playing grows more forceful, howls battering as a beastly explosion pulls at eyes. The tempo hulks, the leads diving and shimmering, raging into the second portion where sci-fi keys envelop like a sea of galactic matter. Clean singing again adds a different texture, and a welcome one, Weidel calling, “Can’t you hear them? The voices calling your name?” as it feels like the alien grandson of “Dark Side of the Moon.” The keys continue to ice the trails, the vocals continuing a smooth pathway, hypnotic visions taking over your dreams as you head into final third of this piece that rampages and destroys at dawn. Guitars crush as death howls turn maniacal, later evening out, singing that borders on folk easing fears, mellotron flutes breezing through your hair. The serenity is short lived as brutality returns and pummels to the point of decay, spilling through sieves of extraterrestrial keys, a slow fade beginning to take hold, the sounds hovering like a quiet storm as thunder melts into the clouds.

“Absolute Elsewhere” arrives amid a galaxy of expectations as Blood Incantation have become the flag bearers of the cosmic death metal movement, and they could not have been more up to the task of building onto their modern legend. It’s the best heavy metal record, from a pure artistic standpoint, that I’ve heard all year and one of the most impactful and soon-to-be-influential creations in the past decade. It’s an album that takes you into the deepest regions of the galaxy and into your own mind as you stretch beyond recognition what you thought was possible with heavy music.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://centurymedia.store/collections/blood-incantation

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

From what I understand, there are people who don’t wake up filled with existential dread, just waiting for the world to melt into an ash pit. Those have to be the people so consumed with their own wealth that they don’t care because doing so is bad for their earnings. Fuck those people forever, and our backs are against the wall because of these blood suckers.

Oklahoma City-based bruisers Chat Pile already have made a name for themselves for their down-tuned, sludgy sound, and on their second record “Cool World” (yes, it shares a name with the 1992 film starring human shit pile Brad Pitt), they add more filth and grit to the mix on these 10 tracks. You won’t be surprised to learn things have not gotten rosier since their great debut “God’s Country,” and here the band—vocalist Raygun Busch, guitarist Luther Manhole, bassist Stin, drummer Cap’n Ron—digs into the increasing nightmare that has enveloped this country and the world from our environment actively sold for parts and fascist assholes being a little too horny for power. It’s horror that we’ve seen before our eyes, the band violently reminding us that the dark skies are permanent, and trying to find silver linings is a fool’s mission.

“I Am Dog Now” bathes in synth, and then things turn chunky and blunt, Busch wailing the title over and over before yelling, “And you see nothing!” Guitars stab as your brain spins in its skull case, Busch pushing back, “Remember, everyone bleeds.” “Shame” has a grungy feel, something that is a sort of musical theme on this record, Busch’s talk singing jabbing like a pencil point. Suddenly, growls gurgle, later turning into numbing singing, a darker tempo forming and clobbering, scathing weirdness ending in static interference. “Frownland” has the bass driving aggressively, guitars chilling as the howls mangle and bring you to your knees. Things turn unhinged, the playing clubbing and numbing, tingling and battering, letting you bleed out. “Funny Man” bruises, and the guitars gets warped though remain strangely melodic, Busch wailing, “Outside there’s no mercy.” Riffs snake as the playing digs into a filthy, low-tuned drubbing, the title repeated maniacally as the jolts bury you in a pool of your own saliva. “Camcorder” is punchy and guttural, making you feel the rhythmic gusts in your belly, sober speak-singing building the plot. “I can feel it all,” Busch repeats, a steamy and calculated tempo rupturing, unraveling into a thick mist.

“Tape” bathes in clean guitars before howls and dreary singing mix, an overcast feeling creating unease. “It was the worst I ever saw,” Busch continues to warble, making the panic rise into your throat. Guitars cut through as the vocals slur and then combust, carving away at flesh before melting down. “The New World” dawns in a disarming haze, and then the playing gets speedy, the vocals spitting out rusty nails, zany guitar lines bringing further disorientation. The pace then clobbers as the band thrashes with reckless abandon, vicious screams ripple, and the final moments are crazed yet channeled. “Masc” starts with the drums spattering, more grungy energy creating electrical burns, Busch howling, “I trust and bleed.” The playing gets murkier and then clobbering, Busch continuing to repeat the previous mantra like a mad man, the band mashing digits to the end. “Milk of Human Kindness” slinks in, trickling and slowly pooling, the singing easing you into the picture, and you’re forgiven if you don’t trust the path. Troubling wails scathe, the bass plods with gravitational pressure, and then screams rip, the guitars liquifying and draining. Closer “No Way Out” has the bass thumping, unhinged cries loosening joints, the guitars glazing and blurring eyes. “Feed them lies!” Busch demands before warning, “No escape,” as the playing gets both spacious and thorny, leaving mouths cemented shut.

One thing has not changed from Chat Pile’s eye-awakening last record: The world is fucked, likely permanently, and why mince words and create a positivity that has no chance to exist? “Cool World” is a nice tongue-in-cheek, fuck-off title, and musically they both build on the volatility of their previous work and also add smoother edges and misleading approachability that doesn’t exactly disguise their disgust and despondency. We can’t put a fresh coat of paint over our reality, we can’t clean up the mess, and the more we watch our world devolve, the further the bile pushes up into our throats.    

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

To buy the album, go here: https://nowflensing.com/collections/chat-pile

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

There are evenings when, after dabbling in very, very legal adult substances, I like to lie in bed with headphones, stare into a strange outer space theme on YouTube, and listen to music that aims to transport me to another plane of existence. It’s a way to branch mentally and discover portions of my mind that often lie dormant, exposing long-forgotten memories and future desires.

In those situations, it’s only natural to turn toward Oranssi Pazuzu, the Finnish experimental black metal band that barely fits into the subgenre designation assigned to them. Every album, it feels like a new form of the band and the artists involved—vocalist/guitarist Juho “Jun-His” Vanhanen, guitarist Niko “Ikon” Lehdontie, bassist/vocalist Toni “Ontto” Hietamäki, keyboardist/percussionist/vocalist Ville “Evil” Leppilahti, drummer Jarkko “Korjak” Salo—bubbles to the surface, and it seems like they assembled their masterful sixth record “Muuntautuja” (translates to shapeshifter, which is a perfect title for these songs and this unit) from galactic materials mere mortals could not handle without life-altering effects. This collection of tracks veers deeper toward electronics, bathing you in digital chaos, threading in krautrock and black metal to make for one immersive adventure beyond.

“Bioalkemisti” dawns amid electronic pulses that threaten to flood, a haze spreading as  Vanhanen’s howls become intertwined with psychological impulses. The pace gets more aggressive as the keys blend, the shrieks tearing from crevices, a strange aura filling your senses and solidifying into ice. “Muuntautuja” opens with keys chewing away, alien vocal effects making strange waves, a psychedelic melting making it feel like brains are leaking from eyes. Howls open and stretch their jaws, teasing as the keys plink like ice pellets, the sounds stretching and warping, cold dreams taking over your consciousness. “Voitelu” is burly and like an extraterrestrial signal, pounding away while remaining thought provoking, a fiery gust striking and making the earth move. The playing builds a labyrinth, deep warbling plays tricks with your mind, and sounds clash in the open, creating a sonic panic that corrodes and disappears in ash.

“Hautatuuli” whirs as the drums pace, breezy keys make your hair shuffle, and whispers surround and push messaging through your mind. The playing gets meatier as howls begin to spit acid, and then darkness unfolds, consuming every last speck of light. “Valotus” opens in deep calm, sounds slithering as disorienting impulses create a spark of confusion. The storm gets heavier, the playing snaking and shimmering before sanity is shredded, mauling and adding to the bruising, warped voices causing mental gasps, swirling into piercing noise. “Ikikäärme” leaks into the room, moody strangeness causing psychological detachment, cosmic rays swimming in a sea of stars. The track unfurls into a surreal dream, mechanical waves lapping, howls crying out from a frozen reality and then turning into something late night and urban. Strange vocals tease sanity as everything slips behind thick clouds, slowly dissipating. “Vierivä usva” is the closing instrumental, dark synth creating patterns, an intergalactic calm spreading, making its way into the stars. Wormholes open and tunnel into bizarre worlds, fading into a distant horizon.

Oranssi Pazuzu long have existed and created on the outer rim of the universe, conjuring sounds that don’t seem of this galaxy and likely emanate from regions of the universe no human ever could hope to visit. “Muuntautuja” makes it feel like the band’s focus is becoming razor sharp, maturing into its true form, letting electronics and black metal flow freely into one another, forming a brand new element. This record is ideal for stargazing, for it feels like that’s what willed these songs into existence.

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

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

Bands that refuse to stay put and adhere to a specific sound or philosophy are plentiful, and a lot of them make really good music and albums. The ones that never seem comfortable with status quo and that burn down to build back up again tend to be more interesting, though, even if their projects aren’t always exploding with acclaim.

Nordic black metal force 1349 made a career out of fighting back against what’s become acceptable, embracing the tenets of their chosen subgenre but never being afraid to push things elsewhere. Just look at 2009’s “Revelations of the Black Flame,” the most experimental record of their entire run, and personally, one of my favorites, no matter the flak it took at the time. Their latest opus is “The Wolf and the King,” an eight-track, 39-minute bruiser that is lean and mean, and while it’s one of their most straightforward in a while, it still contains the heart of a band unsatisfied with their haul and always thirsty for more. The quarter of vocalist Ravn, guitarist Archaon, bassist Seidemann, drummer Frost plays with themes of alchemy, but with the bloody twist of turning oneself into a better version (the proverbial gold) as well as the wolf devouring the king, leading to the fires of recreation. That’s not only the theme of the record but of the band itself.

“The God Devourer” gets off to a tempered start, letting the heat rise before leading the force to rupture, the simple, but potent chorus sending jolts. Leads turn and spiral as the trudging pace flattens, the guitars firing before a mauling end. “Ash of Ages” rampages from the start, Ravn howling, “The ash of ages, frozen in time.” The band’s signature sound is sharp as ever, dashing as the playing gets more volatile, howls creaking as sounds buzz, sickening until an abrupt end. “Shadow Point” begins with clean guitars that give way to machine gun drums, everything tearing apart as the vocals grab for the throat. Strong riffs flex as the carnage boils over, guitars dominating and serving up devastation. “Inferior Pathways” is pointed and channeled, drums crushing as the leads dart, the chorus stabbing to the point. Leads explode and lather as vocals continue to torch everything in its path, a vicious, unrelenting finish ending in a pit of hellish ash.

“Inner Portal” has the bass slithering, a vicious, channeled assault adding pressure, speed building as the guitars spiral. The beast moves into the fog, erupting anew and bringing snarling howls and speedy melodies that cause extreme vertigo. “The Vessel and the Storm” attacks, howls crushing, guitars carving tributaries into hell. Lava explodes to the surface, chugging and mashing, a lightning force electrifying, Ravn wailing, “I am reborn!” “Obscura” burns into tornadic weather, the calculated pace eating into raw nerve endings, humidity swarming and making breathing a challenge. The pace then goes off, guitars peeling back flesh, the blasts taking apart skeletal structures limb from limb. Closer “Fatalist” dawns amid burning guitars, snarled screams, and disorienting heat, weird magic working its way down your spine. Strangeness swells and makes your mind wander, explosive blasts blackening skies, the chorus rushing and making for a warbling, psychologically damaging exit.

1349’s hellfire remains raging on “The Wolf and the King,” and this record is another solid entry into their stellar history. The band’s refusal to settle and simply just regurgitate a new record based on expectations never has been their thing, and as they continue to develop as people, that growth is reflected in their art. This band might seem like the wolf devouring the king on the surface, but don’t let that distract you from 1349’s continual rebirth and willingness to burn it all down to build back again.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/1349official

To buy the album, go here: https://shopusa.season-of-mist.com/band/1349

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