I feel like this could be a boilerplate introduction for this site, but things have been dark and stormy for a lot of us for a long time. And it doesn’t appear to show signs of stopping. In what’s alleged to be the greatest country in the world, things are so unbalanced that people are at the end of their rope, and there is bloodshed the world over.

Digging into “Recover What You Can,” the third record from Pittsburgh brawlers Negative 13, and you can tell they’ve lived it too. The band’s brand of doom, hardcore, and metal is a force to behold live, and on this album, they translate that feeling as effectively as they ever have. Over six tracks and 33 minutes, the band—vocalist Scott Fisher, guitarist Edward Banchs, bassist Mary Bielich (Derketa, ex-Mythic), drummer Chip Reynolds—unloads both sonically and emotionally. The pain and suffering, the confusion and anger are all over this thing, and you can feel the gritty gears tearing into your psyche, identifying your struggle, and also hopefully showing you a way to climb out.

“The Desolate” is a strange, doomy, cloudy intro cut, setting the dark tones and sprawling into “Casket Trail” that immediately lands punches. The aura is mucky, Fisher’s howls encircling, the intensifying smoke making your vision strangely compromised. Riffs snarl as the pace begins to gallop harder, punishing as growls smack, and relentless chugging leaves deep muscle bruising. “The Vulture Circles” surges with guitars glistening and teasing, the words spat as the bass playing flexes its muscle, Fisher’s wail of, “Set me free!” rippling down your spine. “See my life melt away, but I’m not ready to leave,” Fisher declares, the playing piling on hardcore-style intensity, the final cry of “Pick yourself up!” resonating and disappearing into murk.

“Horizon Divides” has blurry playing that works into muscular jarring, the temps dropping as Fisher’s singing layers with emotion. “I have this constant feeling like I’ve been here before,” he laments, as the moodiness clashes with a ripping pace that knifes into the center, feeling beastly and slashing as is melts way. “Devil In Your Head” is charged up and jerky, talk singing adding to the abrasive nature, and then some speed that teams with a psychedelic wash. The playing begins to gut, growing more violent and disruptive, yells echoing as the ambiance feels like Neurosis’ early years, Fisher lashing, “You don’t really know me!” The closing title track is faster out of the gates, howls echoing, a gazey heat thickening and making breather tougher. A hypnotic force washes over the cut, the vocals stretching over that, the title howled deep from the gut. The pace continues to elevate, steam rising as if from a scalding hot bath, blazing out into steam.

It’s a rough time out there for a lot of people, and Negative 13 seem to capture that tug of war of emotions on “Recover What You Can.” Everything packed into these six songs come front loaded with emotion and grit, seeing your misery and struggle and responding with music that can accompany you into your mental battles. Or, if you’re just here to get crushed, you have more than enough to leave you bruised for weeks on end.

For more on the band, go here: https://negative13.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://negative13.bandcamp.com/album/recover-what-you-can

The adoration for 1990s death metal doesn’t seem to be losing steam, and why should it? The formative years that boasted the likes of Morbid Angel, Suffocation, Immolation, Bolt Thrower, and so many others continue to spawn new species in the death metal terrain that connect roots with one or more of the progenitors.

Finnish death metal maulers Aedes smash a whole lot of bloody affection for that era on their debut mini-album “Odius Imprecation,” originally released digitally last fall and now getting a physical version via Blood Harvest. Over a ferocious and skull-dragging 25 minutes, the band—vocalist Riku Ryynänen, guitarists Antti Luoto and Juha-Matti Ojanperä, bassist Atte Roppola, drummer/synth player Marten Gustafsson—centers itself square in the graveyard, with cauldrons steaming, bloody pathways following.

“Heretical Birth” begins thrashy with gruff vocals, the playing decimating with blazing speed. The battering continues as ash piles up dangerously, swimming in flames as the howls echo and mash, leaving infernal punishment waiting for you. “Portraits of Hell” crushes as guitars race, the screams corroding. The playing turns grim and doomy, the vocals scraping as guitars spiral, atmospheric agony choking with strange visions, a fiery outro consuming as the drums menace with hellish intent. “Merging Into Madness” dawns with insects swarming, guitars channeling fear, and then a seismic charge pushes into chaos. Harsh, beastly howls dig under the rib cage while spacey keys emerge and add a cooling agent, letting the cleaner tones make your brain tingle. But the violence returns, unleashing a grisly pace that chews muscle, driving through mystical fury that makes you feel insane. Closer “Cosmic Void Decay” chugs and swims through glass, the vocals turning animalistic, raw, and blistering, jabs making greater impact. The smeary doom has a Celtic Frost feel, meanwhile the leads erupt as scathing, nightmarish reality unfolds, the mesmerizing clean lines making blood go cold, a final blast of drubbing loose teeth from jaws.

For those who didn’t get on board with Aedes’ debut mini-album “Odius Imprecation” later in 2024, now is your chance to indulge in more 90s death metal worship that sounds like it belongs with that vintage. It’s grim, punishing, and at times spacey, giving a lot of different directions they can pursue deeper as they continue to develop as a unit. This wider release should help expose them to more like-minded people who don’t mind stomping through the muck to get the death barrage they desperately seek.

For more on the band, go here: https://aedesmetal.bandcamp.com/album/odious-imprecation

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.bloodharvest.se/

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

Lord living fuck, I forgot how haywire it is when that shitbag is in office, and every five minutes he’s committing a crime against humanity. Therapy session was particularly intense this week, and it’s hard not to just want to scream constantly. Marijuana is the answer and so, it would appear, is Weed Demon.

The smoked-out sludge doom crushers return with their third record “The Doom Scroll,” and could they have selected a better title for a record dropping in the hell times? Part 2. This five-track (six if you have the vinyl version, which is hidden at the end) astronaut is perfect mind-blazing fodder for smoking up and trying to think about anything other than reality. The band—vocalist/bassist Jordan Holland, guitarists/vocalists Andy Center and Brian Buckley, drummer Nick Carter—mashes their smoldering, stoner doom that swaggers as hard as it pummels, making for a great escape from your life.

“Acid Dungeon” is an instrumental opener with a slick synth gaze, feeling spooky and borderline horror movie score. The playing shivers and haunts, moving into “Tower of Smoke” that powers with lapping guitars encircling and punchy rhythmic blows. The pace trudges and leaves soot, the playing allowing the heat to bubble dangerously, the instrumental piece burning off into other dimensions. “Coma Dose” chills with noiry playing, the singing warbling as things grow more molten, growls ripping in to pull at guts, with Funerals’ Shy Kennedy adding her own smoking, muscular voice. Things get more grisly as the harsh vocals mix with slurry singing, continuing to build momentum as mud cakes the gears. The bass trudges as the growls strengthen their grip, battering with a mucky intensity that blurs into the night.

“Roasting the Sacred Bones,” which would make Frank Reynolds psyched, starts with clean guitars glazing, a cosmic spiral taking you off into the cosmos, the riffs ruling with barked growls slashing over top. The playing gives off a humid Black Tusk vibe, your senses battered even as acoustic strains come in to offer some cooling, the thrashy energy catching fire and burning relentlessly. “Dead Planet Blues” is the closer, kind of, depending on your format. Acoustics and sun-stained guitars launch, the slide playing adding a strange warmth, the power engulfing. Clean guitar traces color in the riff pockets, guitars dashing through a spacey exhaust that spirals into oblivion. If you have the vinyl version, the album ends with a cover of Frank Zappa’s 1969 classic “Willie the Pimp” that they remake in their own image, keeping the bluesy madness and adding their own ferocity.

Weed Demon’s electrified, smoke-filled haze is thick and alluring as ever on “The Doom Scroll,” a record that might make you do less phone strangling and more immersion in mind-altering substances. You can do a lot worse for yourself as we’re back in the era of insane news every 5 minutes, so this distraction into the cosmos just might be what your ailing nerves desire. This is a brain-frying, clobbering record that’ll let you space out but also will leave unexpected bruising.

For more on the band, go here: https://smokeweeddemon.bandcamp.com/album/the-doom-scroll

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://www.gloryordeathrecords.com/shop/electric-valley-records

Or here (Europe): https://www.electricvalleyrecords.com/product/weed-demon-the-doom-scroll

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

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

It’s easy to fall into the murk of what the global condition has become. Misinformation has surpassed truth in so many parts of the world that we may finally have achieved fiction as a present state. Fascist leaders are rising to power, including one of the worst, yet comically inept here in my country. Do we want to die? Because this is how you fucking die.

UK black metal force Abduction also see the darkness, the sea of untruth, and they attack that reality on their thunderous new record “Existentialismus,” their fifth overall. Here, the blistering voice led by originator A|V (there’s a full band here, but I’ll be damned if I can find a reliable lineup) explodes with infernal energy and destructive force, practically matching the rising danger that we can feel around us. The record is as punishing as the band’s previous work, but there is more flexibility now, especially vocally as some clean vocals found their way into the mix. It’s a welcome enhancement, something that cuts back on the chaos and adds new dexterity that makes the music more interesting.

“A Legacy of Sores” rips this record open, the savagery already off the charts even as melody swims downstream. The howls crush as guitars tingle, holding a brief place for a breather before the volcanic activity bubbles over again. Throaty cries grip as atmospheric leads bring this to a numbing end. “Pyramidia Liberi” has riffs coating steel, as a storming pace floods liberally, the rhythmic assault driving full force ahead as blood curdles. The playing continues to bind, A|V’s voice buzzes like an agitated nest, and the pace trounces as the cry of, “Messenger of death!” rings out. “Truth Is as Sharp a Sword as Vengeance” has  A|V expanding his voice, singing cleanly though darkness, the playing charging before screams return to add more menace. The playing pushes and pulls from brutal to more nuanced, singing sharing space with demonic wails, the intensity beginning to jackhammer with intensity, a stream-of-consciousness style bloodletting taking over as exhaust slips.

“Blau ist die Farbe der Ewigkeit” tears away, its teeth sinking into flesh, the playing then growing thrashier with deep black metal waves pulling everything under the surface. The pace races, clean singing bellowing, a colorful vortex swallowing you whole, disappearing into a mound of ash. “Razors of Occam” opens and blurs your eyes, the pace going a little more delicately than what preceded it, the singing eventually paving the way for muscular growls. The playing turns pitch black and tornadic, getting heavier and more violent as the seconds tick away, speedy strikes meeting up with melodic gushing, disappearing under a sheet of ice. Closer “Vomiting at Baalbek” is the closer, and it runs a healthy 11:10, rushing in from a storm surge, viciousness and atmosphere becoming odd partners, A|V howling, “Only death is real!” The pace dizzies, dashing through richly sung lines and barbaric screams, melodic leads adding some salve to the bruising. Guitars flush as more black metal force explodes, the jangling melodies playing tricks with your sanity and signaling a punishing end.

We’re full swing into a world where nothing seems to matter other than whatever bullshit someone smears on the internet, and truth and evidence never have been more meaningless. It’s a bleak, hopeless horizon at which we’re staring, and Abduction make that a little more volatile, offering a sobering dose of truth serum on “Existentialismus.” Darkness is thickening, our society is crumbling, and music like this reminds us we all need to take a step back and decide what humanity should look like and what we’re prepared to do to make sure that becomes a reality.

For more of the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/abduction616/

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://spinefarm.merchnow.com/collections/candlelight-records-1

Or here (Europe): https://candlelightrecords.tmstor.es/

For more on the label, go here: https://www.candlelightrecords.co.uk/

Hibernation, while not a human activity, surely can be understood by most people when the winter months have taken root, as they have now. Wanting to tuck away in the dark, resting and recharging, taking solace in our warm homes stand in such contract from how most of us are in the summer, it’s like we’re two different beings.

“Birna” is the new album from Nordic folk power Wardruna, and here, on their sixth full-length, they play with themes of hibernation, awakening, and decay. In Old Norse, birna stands for she-bear, and the band—Einar Selvik (formerly of Gorgoroth and Sahg), Lindy-Fay Hella, Eilif Gundersen, HC Dalgaard, Sondre Veland, John Stenersen, Arne Sandvoll—pays homage to that creature, natural life cycles, and the majesty of nature. Yet, deep in the woods, there also is unrest, a calling out for the return of its true spirit, a plea before it, too, succumbs. That makes this 10-track, 66-minute opus one that thrives with excitement and instrumental celebration, the darkness seeping into your pore. This album features guest appearances by Koret Artemis (choir), Jonna Jinton (vocals, field recordings), Hans Fredrik Jacobsen (willow-bark flute), Kenneth Lien (Jaw-harp), and Iver Sandøy (backing vocals).

“Hertan” opens with a heartbeat pulsating, speaking growing with intensity, group calls flourishing as chants follow behind. Everything swells as hearty melodies strike deep, ending in spiritual gaze. The title track collects strings and horns, the singing pushing into your bloodstream, gang calls uniting with a forestal chill. Drums pump as the horns are ablaze, the spirited jolt pushing off into the deep woods. “Ljos til Jord” has waters rushing, female choral voices icing flesh, whistles picking up along with a percussive dash. Strings ache as the spirit enters your system, the singing cresting as strings bite. “Dvaledraumar” is the longest track at 15:28, woodwinds calling as raw singing layers, a cavernous gust leading to a calmer, eerier section lying in wait, dulcimer plinks and strong singing uniting to make the surroundings burst with life. The melodies rush and then hypnotize, the strings glazing, pastoral choirs increasing the mood, sounds dripping and drums echoing as Hella’s calls ripple through veins, wafting into the cold. “Jord til Ljos” is bled into, the singing from the aforementioned carrying over, strings and choruses bringing the ritual to life. Woodsy chants haunt as whistle swim, birds chirp, and the final push leads to a resting place in the tall grass.

“Himinndotter” immediately awakens with rousing voices, a collection of calls gathering one spirit, drums punching full force as the pace jolts. The playing keeps gaining momentum, the singing coating and layering, unveiling an ancient essence. “Hibjørnen” delivers naked acoustics, Selvik’s voice taking on a filthier tone, the song getting richer as it goes. Then things turn bare bones, a rustic and sparse presentation allowing space for your mind to wander. “Skuggehesten” has thunder rolling in, the playing galloping as the drums prod, strings and horns adding to the jerky pace. The singing grows more stern, misty breaths bellowing from mouths, the energy marching and pumping, whispers swirling into the distance. “Tretale” enters amid drums stomping, acoustics washing over, spoken words tracing as group singing emerges. The tempo kicks into higher gear, the darkness luring you toward the fires, strings collecting, the wintry frost freezing faces. Closer “Lyfjaberg” starts with winds brushing and chants rising, drums echoing as a rhythmic path stomps its boots into the ground. The volume also manages to burst, the group singing swirling, heart-felt playing making your heart rush, hand drumming pattering as the sun sets.

The frosty ambiance and mesmerizing creations Wardruna committed to “Birna” make for perfect listening at this time of the year, when deep freeze is at our gates, and we, similar to the bear, find comfortable places in order to recharge and avoid the unforgiving weather. OK, so we don’t hibernate, but we can get lost in these songs and the visions they create in your mind, letting you also take some time away from your hectic lifestyle to align with nature and take a mental rest. I might need to pack myself into a cave until 2028 at the very earliest, and this record would be a perfect companion for an intermediate death that sparks renewal. 

For more of the band, go here: https://www.wardruna.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://wardrunashop.com/en/

There’s a lot of heaviness in the air, dread, and yeah celebration for some, but it has to feel awfully dark there too. Deep down. Now more than ever, we could use positive distractions, something that doesn’t warp our understanding of what’s outside our doors but at least can let us escape mentally for a little bit. Allow us to take a deep breath now and again.

Denver-based metallic instrumental force Abandons arrive with their debut full-length “Liminal Heart,” and over four tracks, you’re lambasted with epic, doomy, post-metal-style drama that shakes the blood in your body. The creations here can provide that aforementioned gust into your imagination, opening a portal in your mind for you to slip into and let your agitated nerves cool. The band—guitarist/samplist Brenton Dwyer, bassist Ben Rosenberg, drummer/synth player/samplist Samuel Mowat—certainly has strains of titans such as ISIS, Neurosis, and Pelican, but there’s also more adventurous bends here and some delicacy that cools the jets when needed. It’s an album that can stimulate planning your escape, at least in your brain, and remind you there still can be positivity to mine.

“Habitats” begins in a wave of cosmic doom, driving harder as a voice sample talks of the surveillance state and a general sense of unease as technology expands. The heaviness becomes a bigger factor, crushing wills, gazey layers hanging over the crunch as a thick bassline flexes, heading into choppier waters. Melody emerges as a moody atmosphere takes hold, and then the leads catch fire and ricochet away. “Saudade” brings sounds gushing, guitars floating over a Floyd-like psychedelic stretch, letting your mind wander. Keys chill as the power jolts, slide guitars entering to add a hint of sun-stained emotion, the playing soaring before bowing out to static.

“New Mysteries” enters amid quotes about lucid dreaming, sending you into immersive cloud coverage and a near-semi-conscious state that generates warmth. The guitars fire and then cool, letting off breezes that soothe scarred flesh, the pressure building into an ambient burst. Guitars crunch as a whirring force picks up momentum, fading into a thick mist. “Smiling in the Midst of Two Armies” is the closer, a 16:53-long beast that bleeds into guitars awakening, rousing slightly as sounds drip, the drums tracing steps. Then the gargantuan split occurs, jolting and jostling, squeezing with dynamic force, the sludge elements getting stickier and more impenetrable. The guitars chug harder and then pull back, soundtracking strains of J. Robert Oppenheimer’s classic 1945 speech that discusses the impact of the atomic bomb and the deadly consequences of its existence. It’s both sobering and chilling, the playing gradually building into a volcanic force, an electric haze gasping, wooshing, the Oppenheimer quote, “I am become death, the destroyer of worlds,” repeating as noise spirals out into oblivion.

An escape from reality would be a welcomed thing, and Abandons aren’t necessarily trying to distract you from real life, but “Liminal Heart” can help get you there as it spreads its imaginative wings. This is immersive and arresting, and if instrumental doom is your thing like it is mine, it does provide a launching point for diving into something that doesn’t erode you mind and heart. This should keep your lungs working overtime, your blood coursing through your veins, and your mind considering something that isn’t world killing and just might help you rise above the misery.

For more of the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/abandonsmusic

To buy the album, go here: https://abandons.bandcamp.com/album/liminal-heart

This is the first review that will be written after the crowning of one of the world’s least capable fascists, a man who lives in rot and shame and hates himself, so we must now all feel that. It was kind of obvious that the release I chose for today is a meaningful selection. This is a band that stands against the agenda about to rule this country.

“Passages” is a new five-track EP by sludge doom warriors Sunrot, this acting as a pathway from where they were on “The Unfailing Rope” (the session that also bore these songs) to wherever they’re headed next. And no matter where that is, it’s likely to be a decidedly darker place, one where greed is the real god. Sunrot remain steadfast in what they fight for, and the band—vocalist/noisemaker Lex Santiago, guitarists Christopher Eustaquio and Rob Gonzalez, bassist Ross Bradley, drummer Alex Dobrowolski—refuses to go quietly but also adds some glimmers of hope that despite what we all face, there can be something positive that can rise from those ashes.

“Death Knell” opens with sounds buzzing, darkness eroding comfort, voices pushing through the confusion, strange transmissions ending with a clanging doom bell. “The First Wound” rips open with guitars taunting, Santiago’s howls destroying, and sounds warping and challenging madness. Dylan Walker from Full of Hell also makes his presence felt here, and he and Santiago navigate through the endless carnage, wild howls tearing down inhibitions, a sudden burst of speed crushing on its way out the door. “Sleep” brings noises ricocheting, the atmosphere squeezing, aching rhythmic pounding making your breathing accelerate, everything bleeding into chaos. “Untethered” brings lathering guitars, Jack Carino’s cello mixing in with the spirits, the track turning into a shadowy figure that lurks mysteriously. Shrieks maul as the playing turns into a molten force, rippling and pounding, dark melodies slipping into mysterious corners, strings scraping away the first layer of flesh. “Ra” closes, and it has sounds penetrating, a recording of late musician Sun Ra speaking of the positivity of music and its ability to create new worlds and dreams. It provides an warm ending to an eclectic array of creations that can make one feel like trying again and refusing to succumb to worldly pressures.

As we await the next Sunrot full-length, “Passages” feels like a proper appetizer, one that couples the band’s sludgy doom with electronic experimentation to an even greater level.  As we move into a volatile and surely crueler world, having positive sentiments and reasons to carry on will be as important as ever. Will a five-track EP pull you out of that? Not entirely, but it’s a way to help you build a foundation as you prepare to face society that sees many of us as the enemy.

For more of the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/sunrotmusic

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

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

I really try hard not to be that judgmental old guy who grew up in thrash’s golden years, but most of the bands that have tried and tried again to keep that sound relevant never resonated with me. There was something missing, and the ones that tried to mimic the aesthetic never seemed to get that right either. There have been a few here and there, but most of it falls flat.

Swedish pounders Sarcator always seemed to be a step ahead of most, and on their third full-length “Swarming Angels & Flies,” they dig even deeper into the wounds, giving a nastier, darker edge to thrash, which makes total sense since their name is a combination of Sarcófago and Kreator. The band—vocalist/guitarist Mateo Tervonen, guitarist Leo Buchalle, bassist Felix Lindkvist, drummer Jesper Rosén—started pretty damn young, releasing their first demo at ages 14-20 in 2019. Now, two full-lengths later, they’re building on their smoldering knowledge base (Tervonen’s father Marko is a guitarist for The Crown, though I only mention that as an influence) and crushing musical output, which really peaks on this new collection. Yet, as you can hear, they’re still rough around the edges, so there’s room to grow, which should be exciting to hear on LP four. By the way, one CD version of the album contains the band doing a trio of covers of songs from Anti Cimex, aforementioned Sarcófago, and Sadus, but we’re only going to cover the main album.

“Burning Choir” opens absolutely on fire, blistering as vicious howls whip your flesh, carving hard into bone. Speed and violence unite as crazed cries blister, and absolute chaos explodes into “Comet of End Times.” That one tears open, a storm blasting with gale force, the aggression decimating everything in its wake. Melodic fury melts beams, blazing through mean wails, lathering lead lines, and a heavy dash into darkness. The title track ramps up with glorious guitars and throttling drums, Tervonen demanding, “Gather for the final hunt!” The playing rockets as thrashy, colorful attacks smear blood, repeated cries of, “Destroy!” leaving gory blisters. “The Deep Ends” delivers crunchy blows and ultra-catchy leads, the guitars snaking through poisoned waters. Gruff vocals batter as the charring rhythms push into lathering soloing, racing to a razor-sharp finish.

“Where the Void Begins” dawns with acoustic strains and a more mid-tempo pace based on the songs that precede it. Howls scrape as a more shadowy ambiance is achieved, things quieting more for a moment before the blasts return. Things pick up noticeably, a psyche wash staining the leads, later blending into the sky. “The Undercurrent” unloads with shrieks aching, the bloodthirsty path tearing through with added thrashiness, the vocals turning throatier. The leads create a haze while the pace begins to blind, igniting before it stampedes to a finish. “Closure” is dark and noiry, the guitars numbing with a more delicate approach, the cleanliness only reigning temporarily. The pace picks up but gathers some atmosphere, the guitars swagger, and bluesy smoke is emitted, a calculating arrival ending this instrumental piece. Closer “Unto Sepulchres” has guitars rising before cresting nastily, the ultra-fast pace leaving brush burns. Wails sting as the punishment ensues, the soloing unloading. Frantic shrieks shred sanity, and the final seismic shocks pummel as final spasms buckle the earth.

Sarcator capture something that bands twice their age never figured out: You cannot recapture an era, but you can find the same savagery that made those times so volcanically special. “Swarming Angels & Flies” is a vicious, channeled album that maintains the bloodlust of the bands that inspired them and pushes it forcefully ahead into modern times. This is an album and band likely to have long, productive runs ahead of them, and as long as they keep building on solid blocks like this, they have a chance to be one of the most impactful bands of the next decade.

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

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

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

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

I’ll be super honest here: When I get a promo that’s labeled as technical death metal (add brutal to the description and it’s even worse), I tend to put them aside. It’s not my thing at all, and it takes something weird and alien to really make me pay attention. I eventually get to them, but the ones I present here and kind of sparse.

Hierarchies’ self-titled debut record is one I probably got to sooner than I would due to the early year music glut, and I’m glad I found it because it’s a stunner. And it might not be from this planet. Including members of Dwelling Below, Hallowed Idols, and Acausal Intrusion, the band—vocalist/drummer Jared Moran, guitarist Nicholas Turner, bassist Anthony Wheeler—draws you into its strange miasma, contorting your brain all the way. Over eight tracks and 46 minutes, you’re treated to death metal that feels like it originates from a world away, or maybe another dimension, and it’s done so effectively that it feels like the natural course for these artists. It’s not an easily digestible listen, and it’s perfect that way.

“Entity” opens in strange darkness before the howls bury, and then jerky, techy guitars make your head swim in confusion. The drubbing peels flesh back, the leads again bending time and space, stretching into beastly hell, destroying and trudging, tangling everything in its cords. “Consecrate Phenomenon” has guitars needling, howls pummeling, and everything engulfed in hell, the spiraling melodies making you feel crazed. Shrieks maul as the guitars stretch into oblivion, echoes glazing as the sounds slowly dissipate. “Dimension” unloads, maniacal growls chewing muscle, the death march managing to get even more intense, feeling morbid and unforgiving. Blood bubbles to the surface, the riffs dominating, an eruption taking you under and ending you with spastic convulsions. “Twilight Tradition” begins in eeriness before the band begins to stomp through mud, feeling rubbery and muscular. Guitars race as the atmosphere grows increasingly hazy, heavy disorientation setting in as the final blows knock you out.

“Abstract” opens with the guitars toying with you, snaking through any sense of calm, the playing confounding as the venom is injected. The playing blasts open, shrieks driving pointed blades, a blunt assault raging as guitars gush and melt. “Complexity Parallels” rips in, mucky growls blocking air passages, guitars giving off smoke, lapping your brain with brutal complications. Growls torch as the playing goes into a disarming vortex, the leads sparking once more before bowing out to noise. “Subtraction” stomps through zany guitars and slowly crushing force, going wild while amplifying the technical warping. Explosive energy jolts as guitars scorch, caustic hell unleashing its flames, dissolving in acid. “Vultures” is your closer, and it opens and immediately makes the room spin, the howls spitting scorn as you try to keep your balance. The heat rises as guitars lather, darkness envelopes, and the growls dig the dagger a little deeper for good measure, the final notes disappearing with your consciousness.

Hierarchies establish a few things on their debut, that being technical death metal doesn’t have to be antiseptic and that there remain ways to use this brutal art form to make brains melt out of skulls. This is a record you should visit repeatedly, as each trip lets the music sink in a little deeper, the utter strangeness revealing itself a little more each time. But be wary of the bends, the twists, the defiance of convention that make your imagination burst and blood race a little more as you try to figure out this insane maze of a record.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61564013775330

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

Or here (Europe): https://eu.tometal.com/

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

It took not even 24 hours for 2025 to turn into a violent, emotional grind. We barely made it out of the starting gates before carnage sprouted again, misinformation was spread, lies by soon-to-be leaders were spewed. Fucking America. That wasn’t limited to the United States, but that’s where we are, so it’s front of mind.

Long-time Cincinnati death metal power FaithxTractor certainly wasn’t reacting to those specific events on their fifth album “Loathing & the Noose,” but the tracks were a product of anger, grief, rage, and misery. It might not point to any particular event or ethos, but it does mine those same emotions and channel them into almost 38 minutes of power. Multi-instrumentalist Ash Thomas (who has a massive resume with other bands such as Crucified Mortals, Acheron, Apaugasma, Estuary) and drummer Zdenko Prado (also of Estuary) destroy the senses early and often, taking each song to its obvious extreme necessary to shed infected blood.

“Noose of Being” opens with melodic riffs, the pace viciously ripping, howls striking as a gnarly pace sinks in its teeth. The growls are deep and acidic, the fiery pace attempts to consume bodies whole, and the soloing burns and ends everything in ashes. “The Loathing” is savage as it combusts, fast and fiery as the leads increase the heat. The playing, while violent, also is a rush of color, your extremities left tingling as the war machine gears up for a final battering. “Fever Dream Litanies” trudges, the drums battering without mercy, a death fury achieved as the guitars begin to breathe fire. Howls lather as the pace quickens again, the speed and ferocity bowing out in strange vibes. “Flooded Tombs” ignites, growls retching, driving through a start/stop attack that increases the misery. Dark energy explodes as the guitars take up blades, hammering out into madness.

“Ethos Moribund” winds through shadows, finger-taped guitars getting blood flowing, snaking through blood, eventually crushing bone and wills. Raw howls reach out through tornadic heat, the leads add to the temperature, and everything comes to a vicious end. “Caveats” begins with whispers circling as piano notes drip, then we’re off in full gallop, the growls marring the senses. The guitars glow and gut while the drums blast anew, pointed wails getting iced over by freezing keys. “Beholden to the Nightmare” goes for the throat, the guitars taking on the burden, growls burying dreams in synth glow. The power punches as things turn ashen and dark, the growls pummeling to an abrupt end. “Cerecloth Vision Veil” closes the record, entering amid steam and slow-driving muck, building intensity as the guitars spiral into oblivion. The playing lathers as the mood grows eerie and icy, the playing punches, and a sense of sorrow permeates as the last gasps fade away.

A record full of rage is something that might hit the spot for many listeners as we enter into 2025, and FaithxTractor have more than enough to scratch that miserable itch every time. “Loathing & the Noose” wastes no time taking care of business as its eight songs rip by in no time, landing with explosive power with every listen. This is death metal that’s here to lay waste and express fury through grief, something that can find a landing spot with almost everyone. 

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://redefiningdarkness.8merch.us/?product_cat=&s=reda209&post_type=product

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

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