I am not exactly the most adventurous person of all time, and my participation in events that could be termed dangerous is almost, but not quite, zero. I went white water rating once. Hated it. Never doing it again. So, when I hear about people mountain climbing, it baffles me that someone would try something so ridiculous. I’m fine with cowardice.

“Eiger” is the new record from Swiss black metal force Aara, who recently completed a trilogy of albums based on Charles Robert Maturin’s Melmoth. Here, the band—vocalist Fluss, multi-instrumentalist Berg, drummer J.—turns toward the mountain of the same name as the record in the Bernese Alps that has an ice-covered North side called “Mordwand” or MURDER WALL(!). In July 1936, four climbers tried to conquer said murder wall, and guess how that ended? It’s highly unlikely a melodic black metal band that often sounds like a phantom shriek come to life would dedicate an entire record to something that ended happily, so you should know you’re in for utter peril.

“Die das wilde Wetter fängt” opens with frigidity filling your bones, moodiness spreading as a melodic gush takes over, shrieks peeling flesh from bone. The playing remains raucous for the most part, sometimes pulling back on the reins to let the gravity set in. The vibe gets a little filthier as the screams mangle, your blood rushing as we mix into acoustics, the volcanic elements cooling ever so slightly. “Senkrechte Welten” gusts, fires crying, fluid guitars working into a lather, the vocals pulling at the tension. Quiet guitars layer as steps crunch, and then the playing gets delirious again, flowing gloriously to its resting point. “Felsensang” has guitars chiming before the pace takes off, the vocals crushing while riffs dive into embankments. Once again, there is a push and pull of heaviness and delicacy, the calmer strains allowing breathing room before the next attack of ferocity, shrieks raining down into a hypnotic dirge. “Todesbiwak” enters in a halo of riffs, acoustics dripping as the power surges. Guitars divebomb as screams blister, sweeping through the thickening air, working into another gust of calm that is a bridge for the next wave of effusive fire that burns off into ash.

“Der Wahnsinn dort im Abgrund” is like an avalanche, screams mauling as the playing gets more volatile, burly abandon heading full force until a quick pause that resets the emotion. Out of that comes a rush, tornadic power that aims to consume fully, power blasting through your chest and leaving you heaving. “Zurück zur roten Fluh” batters right away, the screams rippling, the tempo rampaging colors and warped reality, daring speed threatening to burst at the seams. The playing is drubbing and dark, brief respites for acoustic winds giving hints of solace, a melodic crush bringing tumult to a temporary end. “Grausig ist der Blick” brings howling winds and guitars that aim to create a signal in flames, the pace bludgeoning, shrieks killing amid a panicked attack. A new eruption compromises your footing as the assault spirals and blurs, ending in a blast of charred remnants. Closer “Alptraum” opens with acoustics and winds whipping, the playing growing more volatile, a melodic charge loosening rock beneath it. Guitars coat with a metallic surface, the pace injecting more energy into the journey, stretching before the playing combusts. Screams plaster as guitars rampage, the finality settling into your bones as the cold winds squeeze tight, blackening forever.

“Eiger” shows its force once again, though this time in a metallic ode to trying to conquer nature by Aara that at least leaves you breathing at the end. The pain and trauma of the adventure contained within were real, a peril that ultimately proved insurmountable and deadly. This record pays that off with every freezing step, your body and mind pushed to their limits, the music acting as a harbinger to an early grave. 

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100051054499947

To buy the album (U.S.), 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/

There are wrestling fans who know a lot about the characters and storylines, as well as the history. And then there are fans who dissect obscure angles and the people involved and make an entire goddamn record about it. Those are my type of fans, and as someone who always has woven pro wrestling into this metal site, it’s a no-brainer to cover.

Mountain of Smoke play muddy, fiery, grimaced doom metal, and before this moment, their focus was on science fiction films including “Blade Runner” and “Dark City.” But on “Blood Runs Cold,” they focus on a World Championship Wrestling angle from the mid-1990s of the same name that involved a series of Mortal Kombat-style characters that were nothing like anything else going on at the time. The band—vocalist/bassist Brooks Willhoite, multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Alex Johnson, drummer PJ Costigan—focuses on the storyline that dawned with the introduction of the Glacier character, whose introductory vignettes bore the “Blood Runs Cold” line, and as things progressed, Mortis, manager James Vandenburg, Wrath, and eventually Ernest Miller joined the angle that was more of a mid-card spot that got inconsistent attention from the bookers. The band also shines a light on Chris Kanyon who played Mortis, a man who suffered mentally and lived in a macho industry as a gay man at a time where acceptance wasn’t what it is now. He’s one of the most underrated wrestlers of all time who inspires people to this day despite passing in 2010 at the age of 40. Now a crushing, channeled record immortalizes him.

“A Broken Man” dawns in thick doom shades, speak singing snarling, ominous feeling permeating your senses. Acoustics trace behind the chaos, burly punishment unfurling as synth whirs, and spacey strangeness leaves chills behind. “Blood Runs Cold” addresses the angle by name, Dahlia Knowles (Lorelei K) adding a haunting ambiance, the howls of, “My blood runs cold” rippling down your spine. The sounds turn mesmerizing, calls reaching into the distance, and then the drums burst, adding to the heaviness, sirens singing out and disappearing into the clouds. “Meltdown” punishes with howling vocals and scorching energy, the ferocity growing as the seconds tick by. Sounds continue to build as does the pressure, everything boiling off into a coating steam. “Lacerated” is grungy with sneering singing, Johnson taking leads this time, the pace feeling like it’s melting around you. The ferocity picks up again, moving rapidly to destroy minds, a molten, furious finish taking you fully under. “Flatliner” is animalistic and violent, sounds spiraling, an absolute wrecking machine that zaps into oblivion. “The Forbidden Door” has bass clobbering, the singing scalding as doomy, sooty winds envelop. Power rumbles as the sounds begin to fry, the pressure mounting noticeably, strange melodies teasing your psyche, the intense heat just hanging in the air.

“God of Wrath,” which focuses on Bryan Adams’ Wrath character, is earth crushing, warbled words and a swaggering pace taking over, punches landing and separating ribs. The sludge builds as noise fires up, hammering through thick labyrinths, washing out into acoustics. “Mortis” is based on Kanyon’s character, and it opens in deep fuzz, an elegant haze spreading itself, speak singing moving into gnarly growls, humid leads heading into the darkness. The colors darken as the pressure continues to build, synth clouds taking over and hypnotizing, a final rampage rushing out of that, ending in soot. “Interlude” is a quick breather as guitars scratch and stagger, smearing with disorientation into “Sacrifice the Saviors” that unloads with muddy riffs and glimmering keys. Beastly howls erupt out of cosmic zaps and a drubbing fist fight, the fire erupting generously as leads go more psychedelic, bleeding ferociously into “Pray to Feel Numb” where the bass instantly crushes your will. Howls rip open, the vocals later drenched in echo, the driving ambition gaining new textures along the way. Keys and guitars align to make your ears ring, meanwhile a new eruption pulls you under, the channeled cries slipping into the distance. Closer “Dead Mountain” feels properly maniacal, synth raising the temperatures, the wildness coming in waves. The chorus is simple but effective, the warped voices getting darker and weirder, the final gust spitting fire to the end.

As a longtime wrestling fan, it was a pure joy listening to “Blood Runs Cold” not only to relive such a strange, seemingly forgotten storyline, but also to get waylaid by doom with as many characteristics as the people in this feud. Mountain of Smoke’s dedication to this angle, as well as the homage paid to the criminally underappreciated Kanyon (by mainstream audiences, that is) cannot be properly summarized in words as the journey with the music pays that in full. This is a really cool record, one that does not deserve to fade with late-year releases and one that should find continual new life with metal and wrestling audiences for years to come.

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

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

It’s hard to live in a society drowning in religion, and with an incoming regime in this country that will be pushing the ways of Christofascism with their Christ part merely a way for them to neglect guilt, it’s nearly impossible not to react against that. So, it makes all the sense in the word to embrace even more satanic ideals, even if only to raise the flames of rebellion.

French death metal blasphemers Infernalivm go full bore into the most hellish instinct of their chosen art on their destructive debut EP “Conquering the Most High,” a title that should not be terribly confusing when considering its intent. The band—vocalist/guitarist Melek Dlth Aton (also of Novae Militiae), bassist Daethorn (Merrimack, Ritualization), drummer Kevin Paradis (Benighted, Svart Crown)—spends little time aggravating fires and layering ash to ensure chaos reigns and that the darkest forces consume everything that claims to be just but is actually behind a hideous mask.

The title track opens in the mouth of hell, growls menacing as the playing works to warp any sense you have left. The playing is vicious and sooty, everything spinning out of control and tightening grip, the growls curdling blood as the menace continues to thicken. The guitars fire up as the drums lay waste, ending in grisly, bloodthirsty force. “Temple of a Destroying Sun” is nasty, crushing wills along the way, a mesmerizing heat spreading and playing tricks with your mental health. The howls torch as the playing goes even harder, decimating and thrashing, pulling you into the deepest, darkest waters. Throaty growls waylay as the playing slows but burns even brighter, leaving singed flesh and stinking ash behind.

“Ashes of the Saints” opens in a blinding fury, the raw growls sinking in their teeth, the beastly atmosphere growing more hostile by the second. The temp then decimates, growls burying anything still breathing deep into the soil, the energy eventually slowing but losing none of its intensity as the final notes fade into dirt. Closer “The Maze of Havoc” opens with guitars heating up, the playing stirring as the heat increases dangerously, every side adding new bruises and wounds to your already suffering body. A tornadic melody sits in a hornet’s nest of fury, the howls battering as riffs char and chug, vicious intentions making themselves known. The guitars spill over into a glorious fire, jolts sending shrapnel, the final embers burning off into oblivion.

“Conquering the Most High,” as a title, likely sparks an imagination of destruction, one with very distinct targets with which to cleanse with its unforgiving fires. Infernalivm likely feel what a lot of us are feeling as we see the world captured in the clutches of religion yet again, and once again a misguided, perverted version of it, so why not answer with infernal chaos? We’ll need more of this stuff around as we deal with reality and find a way to cope with actual global evil that disguises itself in piousness. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://sentientruin.com/releases/infernalivm-conquering-the-most-high

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

When you think of death metal, the concept of love doesn’t exactly rush to the forefront of topics that will confront you at the rusted gates. Sometimes it’s woven in mysteriously or as part of a concept record, but it doesn’t get a lot of time in what can be an overly masculine sub-genre. But here we are, looking right in its face today, facing it head on.

It should come as no surprise that Italian death metal dreamers Bedsore are the ones bringing love into the mix, and they do so artfully and brutally on their second full-length record “Dreaming the Strife for Love.” This follow-up to 2020’s “Hypnagogic Hallucinations” is a departure, but if you really explored their debut, it kind of isn’t. They take a hard turn toward 1970s-style greens and browns, even more progressive ambition, and psychedelic death that takes you under immediately. On this record, the band—vocalist/guitarist Jacopo Gianmaria Pepe– classical guitarist, synthesizers/mellotron/organ/keyboard player Stefano Allegretti, bassist Giulio Rimoli, drummer Davide Itri (Giorgio Trombino guests on saxophone and flute, Giulio Guidotti on trumpet and trombone —unleashes a record that takes inspiration from the Renaissance novel Hypnerotomachia Poliphil that recounts desperate love, layers of dreams, and ultimate devastation. It’s a human and relatable tale, once that gets drenched in imaginative death metal that seems to sound different each time you go back. It’s enthralling, enrapturing, and Bedsore’s biggest statement.

“Minerva’s Obelisque” unfurls with dark guitars and organs gliding, the ambiance feeling velvety and ’70s, maroons and golds spilling over the carpet, guest Kariti’s voice swelling as she fills the room with mystery. The keys surge as the bass slips, moving into “Scars of Light” and its fiery front, howls gutting as the playing charges, a psychedelic chill freezing the room. A sci-fi bend curls, the synth blazing, wails stretching into beyond, ending in a cosmic pile. “A Colossus, an Elephant, a Winged Horse; the Dragon Rendezvous” is the longest track, running 11:46, rattling into existence in an eerie cloud. Punches land as the playing gets faster, sax melting into a golden river, the synth and organs taking off and settling into a groove. The pace continually shifts as the cloud coverage works into different shades of gray, screams coating as the guitars soar, calming into a chambery elegance. Growls bury as the keys blind, guitars working into an eternal hypnotic surge.

“Realm of Eleuterillide” starts with keys teasing and liquifying as the ground rumbles, wild howls following and whipping up a jolting wind. The playing slips into a jazzy warmth before the playing enrages again, guitars enveloping and combusting, a synth haze hanging overhead. Raw howls scar, fading into acoustics, strangeness carried by playful leads and rustic notes. “Fanfare for a Heartfelt Love” has organs gasping, crazed shrieks blasting, cosmic synth swooping in and bringing light-dotted darkness. The tempo works into a bank of progressive keys, wailing exploding and peeling back flesh, an ’80s-style dream wave lapping your brain. Closer “Fountain of Venus” runs 9:57, icy keys dripping into a slick puddle, a thaw finally arriving as the synth sends beams of light, wild howls breaking through the surface. Synth strings pulse as sounds zap, the guitars beginning to work into the inches of freezing terrain. Prog bursts, lathered guitars foam, and baked keys drive toward an emotional caterwaul, sounds bending before retreating back into the dark.

“Dreaming the Strife for Love” is not a terribly surprising twist for Bedsore, who already showed a heavy interest in progressive death, with a few tentacles attached for the past. For this record, they go all the way, and wonderfully so, which is a pretty non-brutal way to explain a devastating record. Yes, a lot of other bands are going the vintage route, few pull it off as flawlessly and genuinely as Bedsore.

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

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

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

There are a lot of dudes running around saying a lot of heinous shit to women, and that’s not exactly a change from the norm, but there’s a noticeable uptick in resistance. There’s a fundamental misunderstanding by some brainless men that they’re the dominant sex when, meanwhile, the forces of absolute evil and the female spirits are carving their blades and fully preparing to fight back with blood and fire.

This brings us to Swedish black metal force Völva, who offer up their debut full-length “Desires Profane” on an increasingly sickened public. This 10-track, 35-minute crusher pays homage to the second wave of black metal, keeping melody and insanity as close comrades as the band—vocalist/bassist Hedonistica, guitarist/vocalist Vittra, drummer/vocalist Skuld—expresses their satanic feminism and support for freedom for women’s body, actions, and dark spiritual connections. These suddenly emboldened men? Fuck around and find out. Guessing Völva only will be too happy to introduce you to the blade and pay homage to the most sinister forces in existence.  

“The Tower” is sooty, bass unfurling as vicious howls snarl over infernal melodies. The chaos continues to fester, speed and blood uniting and spattering, the playing folding into black. “Walk With Me” storms as the guitars dizzy, throaty howls making impact, a vivid blaze making breathing a chore. Shrieks punish as the pace drives even harder, steely darkness burning off in noxious smoke. “Expulsion of the Flesh” is delirious, making everything spin out of control, bristling as the shrieks maul. Black metal chaos erupts, the guitar heat becoming insurmountable, melodies drilling deep into the earth. “Inverted Cross” enters in a violent drum roll, strong riffs flexing muscle as the screams ripple with intensity. A storming power numbs as madness spreads like wildfire, driving hard into complete insanity. “Never Forgive” scuffs with fuzzed-out riffs and thick doom, howls scraping as the punishment becomes overwhelming. Howls torch as hypnotic soundwaves rupture veins, the playing suddenly battering slowly, but heavily, strange clean notes tingling behind the wall of devastation sending blinding lights.

“The Serpent” begins with guitars torpedoing, the vibe feeling both violent and catchy, gushing with maximum power. Savagery continues to gain momentum, the guitars numbing your senses, everything burning into oblivion. “Perpetual Putrefaction” chugs, ferocious shrieks sending seismic waves, every element working to gut you. Shrieks turn bloodier as the band thrashes heavily, added doomy corrosion eating away at flesh. “Asmodeus” attacks, battering with a bloodthirst, a gnarly, feral tempo opening up flesh. A black metal storm strikes and suffocates, a tornadic meltdown flattening everything in its wake, everything coming to a ferocious end. “Salvation” hangs in the air, stinging the senses before racing recklessly, the howls blowtorching as the pace explodes further. The playing turns bodies to dust, heated leads convert metal to liquid, and monstrous roars fold spines. Closer “Vagabond” is a cover of Swedish duo Nordman’s “Vandraren,” a rousing, ultra-electrified version that rampages with effusive personality and sinister gusts, turning this track into a blackened hurricane that swallows you whole.

There are a lot of bold motherfuckers running around saying some dumb shit, and feeling is if they run into Völva, they’re going to taste their own blood. “Desires Profane” celebrates the satanic and the feminine with blazing glory, plying you with black metal that leans melodic but never betrays its heathen spirit. This is a show of true freedom of the body and mind, and rue the day whoever tries to prevent their decadent expression.

For more on the band, go here: https://volva-bm.bandcamp.com/album/desires-profane

To buy the album or for more on the label, go here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/music

With Halloween having past, the more mysterious months on the calendar seemingly have faded. Yet, with the onset of the climate warming, the colder days just now are getting here at least in limited form. It’s still more than passable to take on music that makes you think of the more morose and chilling elements of our fragile existence.

“Sorceries of Sanguine & Shadow,” the second record from black metal duo Pestilent Hex, arrives pretty late in the year, a place where records often go unnoticed, which is damn-near criminal. We still get a slew of good stuff as the year begins to close, including this seven-track, 46-minute destroyer. The band—vocalist M. Malignant (Corpsessed, Profetus) and multi-instrumentalist L. Oathe (Convocation, Desolate Shrine)—intertwines their darkness into myths and superstitions, harrowing dreams, and thick levels of mystery translated through a vicious assault of black metal that adds wickedness into the mix.

“Nocturne” is a brief intro track, morbid, cold, and classical, flowing into “Sciomancy and Sortilege” that begins enraged. Guitars scorch as savagery reigns, orchestral flourishes blossoming as speed and carnage emerge, spaciousness spreading among the stars. Keys glimmer as devastation dominates, the playing stirring as a rousing finish boils blood. “Through Mirrors Beyond” rips open, shrieks raining down like razorblades, melodic gusts taking things to the next level, washing into viciousness. The playing continues to stir, making the sky spin, swirling into tornadic winds. “Of Hexcraft and Laws Three-fold” detonates and starts with screams rampaging, the humidity thickening as the bruising sets in. Guitars spiral as the temperatures skyrocket, the playing engulfing as the melodies explode, guitars churning as everything races to a mangling end.

“A Spectral Voyage” burns and dizzies, shrieks gutting as the stormy pace becomes a bigger factor, the pace picking up noticeably. Howls curdle as melodic slashes leave marks across your back, driving through bizarre cork screws, morbid howls dissolving with a slashing gust. “Threnody of the Moon Ascendant” tingles, dark howls exploding, the chaos feeling frosty and unwelcoming, blistering roars sending chills down your spine. The growls engorge as the playing cascades, whipping into a frenzy with an intense synth wall taking you out. Closer “Sanguine Gnosis” slowly melts as your brain swells, growls boiling in dark and dreary waters, the band setting into scorched earth. Organs drive through the atmosphere, a pastoral feel chilling flesh, the lava rushing to the surface and breaking through rock. The playing wrenches as the keys drizzle, blurring into endless energy.

Strange waves are in the air on “Sorceries of Sanguine & Shadow,” Pestilent Hex’s dramatic second offering that injects a sense of darkness and adventure into the air. It does align well with these darker days, colder nights, when enrapturing spirits are at our doorsteps. This is a brutal way to take that trip, but it’s also something that will make your mind continue to create morbid visions as the record plays out.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://debemurmorti.aisamerch.com/band/pestilent-hex

Or here (UK): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/564-pestilent-hex

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

Families are strange. For the most part, we’re born into them, with no say over who raises us, attached to a lineage that becomes our own whether we like that or not. I’ve had a relatively normal family, but things have slipped out of the cracks over the years that were long-held secrets that weren’t even that controversial. For other families, those unearthed truths can have more devastating effects.

“The Last Will and Testament” is the 14th record from legendary Swedish progressive death metal warriors Opeth, and this is a concept piece based in post-World War I where a family learns the hidden truths of its freshly deceased patriarch. Yes, let’s get the obvious out of the way: Mikael Åkerfeldt is growling again after having spent the past four releases singing purely in his honey-rich clean voice. But growls do not make a record. The music has to be there too, and there’s a ferocity and mystery back that the band—rounded out by guitarist/backing vocalist Fredrik Åkesson, bassist Martin Mendez, keyboard player/backing vocalist Joakim Svalberg, and new drummer/percussionist Waltteri Väyrynen, who adds a major spark—uses to plaster their sound with electricity. They sound hungry and alive. The record also features guest spots by Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull, who handles the spoken sections and, of course, flute; Europe vocalist Joey Tempest; and Mikael’s daughter Mirjam, who also provides dialog. The story itself unravels over each song, the family’s father’s unknown life unfurling, including a stunning secret revealed in the final track.

“§1” opens with footsteps across as room, the opening riff tangling and looping, Åkerfeldt’s clean singing morphing into death roar. “Alas, my time is at an end, I have wallowed in self-pity, and I confess to you as part of my final plight,” Åkerfeldt roars, moving into a weaving, warped section of smeared synths, haunting singing rousing apparition, children chattering as oblivion calls. “§2” enters in funereal keys, the growls battering with the call of, “A dreadful daughter of wretched martyr, sick to marrow and to bone,” some clues slipping out. Anderson’s narration makes flesh crawl, growls snarling as keys spiral, blending into cool acoustics, singing spreading over a dramatic sweep. “§3” is punchy and proggy, deep singing layering, strings swelling before daring and dashing, guitars catching fire as smoke chokes. “Carnal shame, a secret treaty, the lovers bond,” Åkerfeldt calls, the calm exploding into a beast that claws to the end. “§4” has the bass slinking low, growls bursting through the crust, light and dark entangling. The track gets chambery and elegant, Anderson’s flute piping, the guitars then exploding with lava. The playing brutalizes as the singing picks up as a gale-force wind, exiting into spacey strangeness.

“§5” opens in gorgeous strings, a daring trip as the singing slips in, the playing then crushing with aplomb. Growls engorge as the playing makes blood rush, the guitars searing through steel, strange claps bleating as brutality blooms. The heat intensifies quickly, guitars taking off, progressive waters lapping the shore, final eruptions spitting bits of bone. “§6” has keys layering as the drums awaken, the singing chilling before the growls explode as rhythmic stream bubbles. Drums encircle as a prog fury ensues, keys blazing into the night, illuminating the ground as the guitars work up a heavy lather, Åkerfeldt wailing, “God is watching over you, he will guide the way, he is a river of grace through the barren state of our time.” “§7” begins with guitars cutting, organs spilling, Anderson reading the matriarch’s will (not sure if it’s supposed to be in his voice or whoever is reading the document), growls crunching and wrenching as keys flood in a tornado of grays. “In a flock of kings, I am iconoclast, broken bloodline, seeping to emptiness,” Åkerfeldt jolts, the playing slowly lurching, glimmering as hope fades. Closer “A Story Never Told” is the shocking plot twist. Guitars melt as keys soften, Åkerfeldt’s singing paying the heartbreak, emotions at a high point. “A story never told and waiting in the skies, a man’s withered heart on hold, his heiress wears a stranger’s eyes,” he sings, the guitars catching fire, lives crumbling to ashes, the screen blackening for end credits.

Yes, the growls returning already has become a major story with the arrival of “The Last Will and Testament,” but don’t count out how vibrant and channeled Opeth sound here, reminding who so many of us were entranced by this force for so long. This is a record that, when it ends on your first listen, you’ll immediately want to go back into it as new wrinkles are revealed, the record’s own secrets coming out of the cracks. It’s great to have this version of the band back, one that reminds us why they’re death metal royalty but also doesn’t abandon their progressive rock years. That’s something I hope lasts well into the future and whatever comes next.

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

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

Or here: https://atomicfirerecords.omerch.com/

Or here (Europe): https://shopeu.reigningphoenixmusic.com/

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

Nov. 20 is Trans Day of Remembrance, when we pay respect to all of the trans people who gave their lives so those who came after them perhaps could have an easier life. We just elected the same fascist we did in 2016, proving America is made of memory-lapsed people who only can remember their owns needs, their neighbors be fucked. Protecting trans people has become an even bigger goal, and it already was paramount.

Riff Merchant Records always step up to the fucking plate, and they’re releasing a crushing, yet experimental split that pairs Sunrot and Body Void on a collection that benefits Black Trans Liberation for all digital sales. This collection pairs Jersey-based sludge/doom killers Sunrot—vocalist/noisemaker Lex Santiago, guitarists Christopher Eustaquio and Rob Gonzalez, bassist Ross Bradley, drummer Alex Dobrowolski—with Vermont sludge/doom noise killers Body Void—vocalist/guitarist/bassist/synth player Willow Ryan, electronic wizard/sampler/live bassist Janys-Iren Faughn, drummer Edward Holgerson—that always finds a way to erode your senses. Nov. 20 was chosen, by the way, to honor Chanelle Pickett, a trans Blak woman who was murdered that day in 1995, as well as Rita Hester and Monique Thomas, who both died in 1998 after being slain. Hundreds of trans people are murdered every year, mostly trans women, and according to a report posted on congress.gov, trans murders nearly had doubled between the years of 2017 and 2021, 73 percent of those killings committed with a gun. With the incoming regime, this issue likely will grow, among many other factors that are sure to affect the trans community.

“Still Burning” is the Sunrot opener and is a bath in pure noise, having it swim in the air around your head and into your senses, heading into “Shapeshifter” where an industrial poisoning greets you right away. Screams punish as the fuzzy doom batters your psyche, molten and sludgy madness forming a sort of black goo that bubbles toward you, spirited speed bursting from corners. The vocals smear as the heat creates layers, the power continuing to build until a slowly throttling gust bruises bone. Closer “Kill the Cop” is drenched in noise, a warped voice continuing to call the command that’s in the title. It continues to get more psychotic from a sound standpoint, the call out rippling, ending in a rapid charge, electricity and a relentless haze becoming an imposing cloud.

Body Void enters with “Assimilation System” that crumbles into a sound cloud, the playing pounding away, the shrieks scraping at the inside of your skull. Doomy energy boils over as the playing comes off like a heat ray, the carnage jolting relentlessly, drubbing as the noises continue to scathe. Screams rip and repeat, destruction spreading its wings, dissolving into “Crown of Fire” that has energy vibes hovering and pulsating. The frozen gasp of cosmic isolation grips tight, the dark crunch spreading as all sound falls victim to a black hole.

It’s more important now that we protect trans people all over as fascism is on the rise, and hatred for these folks never seems to die. Sunrot and Body Void have been at the forefront of underground doom and sludge bands that are fighting for trans rights and freedom. These are two battering bands that let their anger and disgust boil over to crush hatred, and hopefully this collection helps raise more awareness for the trans community and galvanizes supporters to demand safety and equality.

For more on Sunrot, go here: https://www.facebook.com/sunrotmusic/

For more on Body Void, go here: https://www.facebook.com/bodyvoid/

To buy the album, go here: https://riffmerchant.bandcamp.com/album/sunrot-body-void-split

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

The horrors of existence seem to know no bounds when it comes to putting humanity through the goddamn ringer repeatedly. It’s only natural to go toward macabre thoughts and nightmare scenarios when we try to find ways to emotionally deal with the hand we’ve been dealt, so at this point, the more profane the better.

Australian death crushers Gutless are only too happy to step to the plate with their wrenching new record “High Impact Violence,” their debut offering. Over eight tracks and 26 minutes, the band—vocalist/guitarist Tom Caldwell, guitarist Allan Stacey, bassist Joe Steele, drummer Ollie Ballantyne—conjures death metal that should have you thinking of the formative years in the 1990s, making brutality and bloodshed the goals. You won’t explore space, there are no progressive movements, and all you’ll find is pure death metal that twists your limbs into unspeakable positions.

“Bashed and Hemorrhaging” is a burly gore fest when it starts, growls spat over gnarly chaos, the ugliness spreading along with chugging guitars. The menace continues over bloody power, the leads squealing off into a tire fire. “Beyond the Catacombs” is monstrous, animalistic growls punishing, a mauling force moving forward with reckless abandon. The pace then grows suffocating, the leads wailing amid skull-smashing force, roars crushing any final glimmers of hope. “Scalpel Obsession” dominates, storming in with relentless intensity, roars breathing extra doses of hostility. The guitars sprawl as things get thrashier, growls gutting in a horrifying mist, tearing out guts and leaving them to rot in the sun. “Avalanche of Viscera” mauls as howls belch, and the pace pours on destruction, a total death metal assault that leaves you dizzy. The bass chugs as the thrust further detonates, guitars swelter, and the heat grows unmanageable and thick.

“Galvanized” opens with a quote from “The Frighteners” and then it’s onto muddy rhythm and guitars pouring lava, growls ripping as the pressure builds. The violence escalates from there, guitars spewing heat, lumbering as they blacken eyes along the way. “Carved Into Existence” has a fiery start but then it turns playfully vicious, growls killing as the guitars turn the heat up even further, making the room spin. Body shots continue to land right on the money, and then guitars char, cymbals are crushed, and the last blast removes heads. “Gore God” charges, the growls burying, guitars digging in and then taking off. The brutality works into a lather as a menacing tempo darkens your heart, the carnage slowly mangling, dragging you to a bruising defeat. Closer “Viral Infection” pulverizes, the growls eating into flesh, the battery increasing its power as heated leads wash over prone flesh. Guttural and mashing, the playing adds to the misery, leads squealing as humidity spikes, the strains of a clip from “Videodrome” leading to your ultimate demise.

Now’s as good a time as any to dive as deeply as possible into death metal’s unforgiving confines, and Gutless are more than happy to show you the worst, bloodiest parts of the terrain. “High Impact Violence” is the perfect title for this record as it’s purely that, with no added bells or whistles necessary. This is a complete bludgeoning, one that might be a welcome distraction from the horrors of reality.

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

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

Or here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/gutless-high-impact-violence-lp/

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

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

With so much darkness and negativity that surround us, a beam of hope would be welcome. I write this before the U.S. presidential election knowing it’ll run right after the election, and the word “hope” might have a much different context then. But the present is what matters, and it would be nice to know there’s light on the other side of the battle.

Icelandic dreamers Sólstafir are trying to be that speck of illumination in the storm, and their great new record “Hin helga kvöl” is a revelation. This, their seventh, is their most adventurous yet, which is saying something because this band has been anything but stationary musically. Here, the band—vocalist/guitarist Adalbjorn Tryggvason, guitarist Saethor “Gringo” Saethorsson, bassist Svavar Traustason, drummer Hallgrimur “Grimsi” Hallgrimsson—branches even further from black metal and adds more straight-up rock elements, a touch of Western dust, post-rock dynamics, and even a few rounds of brutality. This is their most diverse collection, and it’s one that will lure you easily back to it repeatedly, with you only too happy to follow.

“Hún andar” starts lush. and then it pushes into fluidity and punchy melodies, the strong singing making waves, even if the language barrier prevents me from fully understanding. There’s a gush that whisks into the next terrain, energy bursting from corners, fading into exhaust. “Hin helga kvöl” slowly unfurls as it electrifies, black metal-style fires blazing, equally volatile singing answering the bell and splattering. The leads cause lines to freeze, and then the whole thing rampages, the playing coming to a dangerous spiral, turning fully into madness. “Blakkrakki” has guitars chugging, the signing gliding, your nerve endings quivering. Tryggvason wails the title over the simple, yet effective chorus, a spirited gust picking up the pace, a full-hearted rush blasting into the final moments. “Sálumessa” is immersed with darkness and echoes, the singing exploring as the pathway gets a little gentler, working through a fog and aligning with shadows. The guitar work thickens and blankets everything in ash, the moodiness increases, and the cold winds beckon, pulling you into the heart of the night.

“Vor ás” is hazy and hangs in the atmosphere, a propulsive call and response making blood rush, the pace sweating as the humidity swarms. The playing gets more aggressive, generating smoke, grittier singing from Tryggvason meeting with Erna Hrönn Ólafsdóttir’s backing vocals that add a new texture. The playing delves into a classic rock feel at moments, adding some nostalgia, ending in a blaze. “Freygátan” opens with pianos dripping and softer singing, the pace gradually growing heartier as it builds strength. Guitars fall like sheets before the track bursts, the leads leaning into Floyd-like psychedelic dreaming, then everything rumbles until falling to ash. “Grýla” is dirtier, the tempo swelling as the drums menace, the singing digging deeper into your chest as the sojourn extends. A strange warmth, giving off a dusty Western vibe, bubbles to the surface, making the track feel both catchy and homey, storming out in melody. “Nú mun ljósið deyja” ripples with black metal energy, the howls ravaging as speed and viciousness become major factors. The path turns hypnotic, melodies battering away, screams rippling and causing seismic waves. Closer “Kuml (forspil, sálmur, kveðja)” emerges amid eerie chants and an aura that sends chills, synth and sax splashing new colors. The cosmic stretch gets more intense as fuzzy power bubbles over, elegant sax sets the mood for the end, and you feel like you’re in the clutches of a late-night fever dream, your hallucinations getting the best of you.

Sólstafir’s excursion into more varied sounds and realms that exist beyond just black metal is growing increasingly ambitious and alluring, which “Hin helga kvöl” proves outright. With the temps about to drop (or so we’re led to believe) and more interesting dusk skies ahead, this is perfect music for that moment, the retreat from light into black. The emotion, darkness, and increaaing light built into this record play off each other magically, and it’s a record that reveals more of itself every listen, which should be an impetus to go back again and again.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://centurymedia.store/

Or here (International): https://www.cmdistro.de/

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