Death metal has shaken the idea that it always has to be about blood and guts and blew that into outer space. That’s a good thing, because think of how much the sound has twisted and morphed the last couple of decades, giving us exciting bands and thought-provoking records. It remains brutal; it just doesn’t have to be filled with puss.

UK death crushers Vacuous operate with their hands in each bucket of death. On one … hand, they certainly grind your brains and muscles to the extreme. On the other, they expand their minds and ambitions further than most, which you can hear on their devastating new record “In His Blood,” their second. Over eight tracks and 32 minutes, the band—vocalist Jo Chen, guitarists Michael Brodsky and Ezra Harkin, bassist Zak Mullard, drummer Max Southall—does mix in horror elements, but also themes such as school violence, toxic masculinity, and global divides that push more into psychological and social trauma that is even more harrowing in reality. Plus, the record just sounds great, an ideal blend of violent and visceral that challenges your brain.

“In His Blood” opens with wild cries, echo-rich playing that numbs your brain, and blistering playing that leaves you unhinged. Growls crush as the playing tears even harder, battling and choking with muck. “Stress Positions” enters with strong riffs and a thrashy feel, a simple, yet brutal chorus landing blows, the leads scaling and making blood rush. Murky heat covers as mournful guitars pour darkness, a thickening fog meeting with an electric gaze. “Hunger” is dark and dripping, the violent touches cutting deep,  a sinister fury blazing with a heavy force. The shrieks deface as a cold shadow takes over, thickening darkness before guitars blast through, ending everything in splintering tones. “Flesh Parade” clobbers right away, the guitars chugging, leaving painful abrasions. They unleash the battering ram, knifing through molten, sooty terrain, the guitars bending and adding levels of confusion, the final moments blurred out of sight.

“Public Humiliation” begins ominously with clean guitars glistening, the track settling into a calculated pace that turns vicious and throaty in no time. The humidity thickens as mesmerizing melodies flow, taking its time to unite with unsettling heat. “Contraband,” a song about 39 Vietnamese migrants suffocating in a lorry on a voyage to England, is darker, with growls crawling through blood and bile, the speed eventually becoming a factor. Guitars spit a gazey ambiance, uniting with a mauling pace that joins with mind-altering static, eventually hitting the gas pedal and crash landing. “Immersion” starts with drums erupting, the vocals spitting nails, rushing into bloody, agitated waves, the noise layering into a synth cloud. Voices appear to melt from a fever dream, a strange aura swallowing everything whole. Closer “No Longer Human” has a slower build, mixing into doom elements, shriekier vocals peeling back flesh. The pace pounds as death growls bubble, chilling sequences reverberating, guitars disorienting, a final gasp stabbing hard.

Vacuous certainly don’t back away from death metal’s normal shock and gore, but they’re about so much more, which you can hear on “In His Blood.” Yes, the skullduggery is apparent, but so are the various tones and sounds that separate them from the bulk of the sub-genre’s pack, making their work less indulgent in horrors and more interested in creating a dynamic, yet dark experience. This is a great step forward for the band that is aiming to keep death metal not only relevant but increasingly more creative.

For more on the band, go here: https://vacuousdeath.bandcamp.com/album/in-his-blood

To buy the album, go here: https://www.relapse.com/collections/vacuous-in-his-blood

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

It’s exciting to put on a band’s new record and instantly be thrown for a loop in a really good way. There are a lot of artists that put out strong releases their entire career but never really hit on that moment where they strike something truly land moving. Which is fine. A catalog of stellar music is nothing at which to be ashamed.

On album three, a self-titled affair, Year of the Cobra blast past just another strong collection of songs and unlock something that should be foundational glue for whatever music lies ahead. The duo of Amy Tung Barrysmith (vocals, bass, keyboards) and Jon Barrysmith (drums) haven’t graced up with a new record in about six years, and it’s certainly understandable as life gets in the way. Plus we had a damn pandemic. Yet, on this eight-track, 41-minute pounder, the band mixes doom, sludge, grunge, and even some pop sensibilities with those jagged hooks in a manner that acts as a sort of a creative rebirth, a fireball that’s been festering over the years that finally bursts in all its massive glory. 

“Full Sails” starts with thick bass coiling, the bruising spread out, Amy’s voice floating over, feeling breezy and restrained. Things get burlier, the simple, yet effective chorus making strides, Amy calling, “From this day forth your soul is mine,” as dark riffs leak under the door. “War Drop” punches with the drums rattling, with the vibe feeling a little L7, especially vocally as Amy sings, “I know it’s time, I see the trail of death.” The pace mesmerizes before digging back in and adding filth, the chorus repeating before a pummeling finish. “Daemonium” is one of the more approachable songs on here, though it tracks a killer targeting women, adding a sinister vibe. The singing is a little higher register, but then it gets darker as Amy prods, “Did she close her eyes? Did she plead for her life?” which feels like the song is out for vengeance.  “Alone” also swirls around in darkness, the riffs encircling, a powerful chorus flexing muscle. The playing goes clean and plays in echo, and then the punches land, Amy wailing, “I never thought I’d feel like this,” as the final embers burn.

“7 Years,” which is almost the time period between records for them, is fuzzy , grungy, and spirited, adding a psyche glaze that boasts a sheen. The basslines slink as the drums send glass shards flying, melodically chugging before a rather catchy finish. “The Darkness” flexes its power early and often, Amy defiantly declaring, “I don’t need a thing, I can do this all alone.” Her calls of, “Don’t let me go,” reverberate, bringing both appealing melodic gusts and a bustling finish. “The Sleep” rumbles as the vocals swelter, dark tones making everything feel foreboding, drums pounding as if breaking through the earth. The chorus settles like a breeze, a low-end rumbling making the ground shake, disappearing into the mouth of a dream. Closer “Prayer” is the longest track here, running 7:29 and simmering in noise and plinking keys, the singing conjuring deep emotions, the playing gushing and bleeding. “My soul do I relinquish,” Amy cries, the playing sending light beams, keys drizzling, a hypnotic front hanging over, noise squeezing before ending gently.

Year of the Cobra really tap into something on their self-titled third record, and while it carries enough darkness, it counters that with increased doses of melody and hooks that can scar you. The Barrysmiths really are onto something here, a record that can grab the metallic contingent with no problem but also can attract people on the periphery who are a little hesitant but might be attracted to the sheen. This should be a major coming out party for Year of the Cobra provided this record gets the attention it richly deserves. 

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

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/year-of-the-cobra-yotc

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

A long time ago, we lost our connections to the outside world. Not everyone. There are many people who still appreciate and bow to nature, the ties of the modern world not becoming  everything. But you can’t argue you’ll see more people staring into phones than walking trails. And sometimes even those people are lost in screens.

Finnish black metal force Havukruunu are well aware of this, and their new record “Tavastland” draws a line to when we lost our connection with the real world and got consumed with the digital age. This record tells the tale of when the Tavastians rose up against the church in 1237 and drove the popes naked into the cold to perish. Noble cause? Sure. But what also resulted was humankind losing their ties to their homeland, and as the centuries wore on, that continued by making humans a slave to technology. The record’s savagery also is well worth noting as the band—vocalist Stefan, guitarist Henkka, bassist Sinisalo, drummer Kostajainen—unleashes some of their most channeled, punishment work so far, and every inch of this drips with malice and metallic fury.

“Kuolematon Laulunhenki” punches you right in the chest, riffs smoking and trudging, the shrieks ripping flesh from the bone. Proverbially, of course. Group calls rouse as if a war cry is going out, guitars blaze through spirited pacing, and the final moments land you face first in the dirt. “Yönsynty” starts with fires crackling and water lapping, guitars hanging in humid air as the howls rip. Melodic guitars jar as the gang singing breaks through, feeling folkish and fiery. The guitars catch and flush with color, howls stretching into a crush of emotion. “Havukruunu Ja Talvenvarjo” arrives quickly, urgently, slashing through as the screams maim, choral drama rises, and drama licks every corner. Then, it becomes a complete assault, strong leads sending bolts of electricity, blazing soloing getting so hot you have to shield your eyes. The title track has shrieks stabbing, the playing adding ridiculous amounts of pressure, group calls smearing while blood pumps through veins. The chorus again makes your adrenaline surge as the energy combusts, singing swelling to the end.

“Kuoleman Oma” dawns amid acoustics, and then the guitars chug, raw calls bruising, the guitars creating a haze that envelopes the land. Then things ignite, leads snarling through carnage, the vocals rousing, everything returning to the raging fire’s heart. “Unissakävijä” brings speedy riffs and vocals destroying, the melodies flush with folk influences that have been set ablaze. The furious guitars then go mystical before the ground opens up, the drums come unglued, and the riffs swing wildly before fading. “Kun Veri Sekoipuu Lumeen” is thrashy as fuck when it greets us, wrestling and mangling, blasts meeting up with murky melodies. Beastly growls carve as a daring pace leads into swelling keys, a psychedelic storm, and metallic glimmering that builds to a giant crescendo. Closer “De Miseriis Fennorum” runs a healthy 10:53, and it basks in heat before shrieks rip and guitars bloom, going over the top with intensity and chaos. The track has a great fiery heart, the pace jolting before the band goes on a run that hints at power metal before returning to a flurry of blades. The playing keeps pushing and pulling, letting guitars blaze and group calls activate nerve endings, but then a massive fog overtakes all, letting steam rise and the final notes sweep away.

“Tavastland” is a harrowing tale that might have its roots in the past but bleeds completely into our present, where we take our eyes off the ball far too frequently. Havukruunu deliver this in bloody, violent rage, something you can feel in every second of this record, even amid melodies that might trick you into assuming some level of comfort. This is both a history lesson and a warning, something we’re not likely to heed as we don’t seem to learn lessons very well as a populace. So, Havukruunu are here to remind us with a steaming blade to the throat.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.svartrecords.com/en/product/havukruunu-tavastland/13004

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

Death metal has developed into such a strange beast since it rose from the swamps and graveyards more than three decades ago. That’s been for the better, and really, the raw and brutal stuff still exists in healthy supply. You can find plenty of it. But the way it has developed new colors and shapes has made the sound more exciting and limitless.

Finnish blackened death metal power Sepulchral Curse have, over the course of more than a decade, committed new strains of morbid oddity to their brand of brutality, and on their new record “Crimson Moon Evocations,” their third, they push that to bizarre new levels. It’s not so warped that it’s not going to torch someone here for carnage and bloodshed. That’s here in abundance. But the band—vocalist Kari Kankaanpää, guitarists Jaakko Riihimäki and Aleksi Luukka, bassist/vocalist Niilas Nissilä, drummer Johannes Rantala—imagines more than just pure death metal, though it’s there in spades, and instead try to inject a chilling ambiance and off kilter approach that keeps things unpredictable.

“Wildfires” opens ablaze, a total assault that challenges you mind and body as you try to hang on for dear life. The playing is thunderous as guitars lather, and even when the fury pulls back, you know you’re about to be consumed on the other side where engorging growls and blinding soloing await. “House of the Black Moon” churns, guitars mauling, feeling like you’re being drilled into the ground. Things go back and forth from catchy to brutal and back, drubbing as twin guitars align and send metallic energy. Howls mash as a slight breeze pushes through, everything ending in a colorful cacophony. “The Locust Scar” is an onslaught, growls carving into flesh, guitars warping visions and creating panic. Skullduggery pulls out of a brief respite, dark and sooty melodies clog throats, and the growls wreck, the back end slowly fading.

“Beneath the Dismal Tides” explodes, growls clawing, a beastly pace roaring and making itself seem 10 times larger than it is. This is total decimation, the thickness spewing oil and sparks, the playing spiraling fast, howls scarring faces. “Empress of the Dead” starts amid a wilting heatwave, and then the pace is unsheathed, jabbing with heated guitars, wails crushing, and darkness enveloping. Shrieks rain down fire, and the final minute completely combusts, sending shrapnel flying. “The Currents of Chaos” stomps with a purpose, the guitars gutting before leaning into more progressive waters, making blood surge. Hypnosis takes over, a creative swath of guitars changing the landscape, the playing packing sorrow even as they cut through muscle. Closer “Crimson Passages” is spacious with growls scraping, drums crushing, and the playing turning into a tornadic force. The pressure refuses to relent, guitars turning up the heat, growls curdling, and a strange tingling sensation taking over and dissolving into the atmosphere.

“Crimson Moon Evocations” is a record that might make you feel like you’re being pulled into a wormhole of strangeness, and that’s not entirely inaccurate, at least from a figurative standpoint. Sepulchral Curse’s blackened fury definitely is rooted in death metal, but it gives as much weirdness as it does brutality, which makes for a really interesting mix. This is another solid building block for a band with an already steady resume that is looking to expand this sound to whatever reaches they see fit.

For more on the band, go here: https://sepulchralcurse.bandcamp.com/album/abhorrent-dimensions

To buy the album, go here: https://www.darkdescentrecords.com/shop/?s=sepulchral+curse&post_type=product

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

We live in a really confusing, frustrating time, a period that seems to house one upheaval after another, a chaotic existence that feels like it shows no mercy and has none to give. It’s a challenge psychologically to navigate it all, and at times it feels that sort of venture is too much to handle. Where do we go when everything seems like a goddamn red flag?

Multi-national crushers Cross Bringer express as much on their thunderous second record “Healismus Aeternus,” which translates to “eternal healing,” and over the course of five tracks and 27 minutes, the band—vocalist Lina, guitarist Sanya, bassist/synth player Artemy, drummer Michael—pour all their vitriol and emotion into this creation, pummeling you with corrosion and the occasional dash of beauty mixed into their blend of metal, doom, and hardcore. They also bring plenty of outside experience from projects including Predatory Void, Reka, Hoari, and Downfall of Gaia, which they use with volcanic results on a record that doesn’t require too much of your time but still delivers the goods.

“Desolation Hypnosis” opens with sounds rising, ominous vibes infecting, and then a burst, Lina’s shrieks piercing as bendy, rubbery playing warps your mind. Ghostly speaking wafts through the din as warped, yet melodic bursts explode, throaty howls crush, and everything ends in strangeness. “Metamorphosis” sits and crashes, wild dashes opening wounds, the playing turning both numbing and disorienting as Lina’s cries dig under the flesh. Guitars drip and hover as the heat builds gradually, the playing stinging with force, ramping up before cooling off again, sounds settling and blurring. “Structural Imbalance” rips, the howls strangling, fiery hell exploding as the playing drubs and melts. The pace begins a dangerous spiral, screams crushing before a cleansing coolness arrives, feeling both dreamy and mauling, ending in a murky field of synth.

“The Vessel” is an immediate assault, guitars dive bombing and doing ample damage, the ferocity blazing to a degree that it’s hard to face the building intensity. The tempo then drives violently, vile howls striking, humid and dizzying warmth toying with your mind, dissolving into a laser bath of keys. Closer “Perpetual Servantship” starts with guitars ringing and then attacking, a grisly dash pushing toward rippling screams and the attack slicing through muscle. The vocals turn raw, heated guitars increasing your body temperature, a complete onslaught aiming to cleanse by fire, reverberating into icy terrain. Static builds a weird lather as the sounds blare through the darkness, fading into oblivion.

It’s nearly impossible for some to navigate a volatile existence that continually forces us deeper into our minds, trying to come to terms with reality vs what our fearful minds feed us. “Healismus Aeternus” pushes through that strange disconnectedness, barrelling toward the point where we must come to some sort of mental understanding of where we stand in order to move forward in a healthy manner. Cross Bringer’s metallic fire is a means to facing and trying to conquer that battle, something that will grow more and more important as our world is at a tipping point.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://silentpendulumrecords.com/products/cross-bringer-healismus-aeternus-lp

Or here: https://consouling.be/release/healismus-aeternus

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

And here: https://consouling.be/

It’s as good a time as any to try to fully disconnect from the world mentally. There is too much going on, way too much of it heartbreaking and infuriating. Doom scrolling is reaching levels of mental melt that frankly is terrifying. Trying to tune out the noise and get back in touch with ourselves might not be the easiest thing to pull off, but it’s worth a try.

Just when we need them most, Wrekmeister Harmonies return with “Flowers in the Spring,” the title alone signaling hope and rebirth from a natural perspective that could perhaps soothe some of our wounds. The long-running duo of JR Robinson and Esther Shaw shows obvious restraint on this four-track record. It’s immersive from front to back, calling you into a warming bath of isolation and reflection, letting the lapping melodies, dream-state drone, and luminescent gloom take over your imagination. It’s not heavy musically in the classic state, but taking on these songs shows their weight, their perspective, and it’s excellent listening after a long period of sustaining far too much negativity from your surrounding environment. For that, this music is crucial.

The title track opens and brings revolving sounds and cosmic weirdness, guitars scraping as the light bursts. Keys blur and continue to rotate, the drone stretching over fields of fever dream, sounds frying as the keys turn, a clouded vision rising and then falling mercifully. “Fuck the Pigs” doesn’t delve into rage, despite the title, but it’s mood is dark and foreboding, even as waves of calm wash over you. Slight ticks sit under the waves of illumination while the cloud coverage adds dark gray, the gentle repetition of sounds encircling, creating a halo effect. The haze continues to build as sounds drip, guitars liquify and form a tributary, and all of that slowly fades into time.

“A Shepherd Stares into the Sun” is the longest piece at 20:51, and it brings brighter smears, synth beams, and a sense of hope into the void. Melodies glow underneath a storm-promising sky, corrosion leaking out of corners, a synth blanket bringing a sense of warmth, swimming through sonic waves. The playing turns mesmerizing and dreamy, electric waves and synth lines uniting, guitar squalls scorching and cauterizing. Closer “Flowers Variation” brings a deep-sea feel combined with alien disconnect, feeling like you’re moving deeper into the blackness. As you scrape the bottom of the sea, keys vibrate as everything grows colder and more remote, sounds swallowed by the crust.

Wrekmeister Harmonies sound as intimately moved and as consumed by mysterious shadows as ever, and their minimalist approach to this record makes for an adventure that can be equally serene as foreboding. “Flowers in the Spring” is incredibly immersive stuff, music that you can use for meditation, mentally unfolding your traumas, and delicately looking toward the future, as volatile as that is. This band continues to innovate and evolve even when pulling back the reins as much as they do here, and it’s a listening experience that will soak you thoroughly.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://thrilljockey.com/products/flowers-in-the-spring

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

We live in perilous times, but if you look back over the past four decades, this hardly is the first time it seemed like our very existence was at stake. The original waves of thrash bands in the early 1980s had their own version of Republican bullshit to endure, and they also didn’t have a suitable opposition leader to dethrone Reagan, thus the fires of this brand of music came firing out of the canon, fully ablaze.

Long-time thrash legends Hirax have endured the ages very well, coming out of California in the early ’80s and establishing themselves as one of the tried-and-true leaders. Yes, they didn’t gain the acclaim of a Metallica or Anthrax or Slayer, but here they are, still turning out quality thrash that sounds as fresh now as the style did in its origin. Still at the helm is lifer Katon W. De Pena, as unmistakable a voice as you’ll ever hear, and he and his band are cooking on “Faster Than Death,” their first new full-length in 11 years. De Pena is joined by a new lineup on this record in guitarist/bassist Neil Metcalf and drummer Danny Walker, and they lay waste over nine tracks and just 22 minutes, every second of it channeled, politically and socially charged, and bound to kick your ass.

“Drill into the Brain” starts with, you guessed it, the sound of a drill, and this opener rushes by with reckless abandon, opening the thrash gates like only Hirax can, getting in and out in a little more than a minute. “Armageddon” is speedy as hell, De Pena’s classic vocals toggling the line between wild howls and power-style sirens. The bass acts as a steely spine as the guitars launch into overdrive, ripping to a molten end. “Drowned Bodies” blasts the doors in, the bass thickening along with the metallic crunch, guitars taking off and dashing. The chugging blasts harder as rock is dislodged from earth, De Pena declaring, “Rather die than live like a slave.” The title track erupts, De Pena howling, “Your time has come, make way for the gods of war,” as speedy, trudging madness consumes everything whole. 

“Psychiatric Ward” is another quick blast, dashing and bludgeoning, the vocals spat like hot nails, the riffs gaining more energy and slicing back at bone. “Relentless” tears open, the drums stampeding, the cries of, “Warfare! Iron fist!” breaking down doors. De Pena lambastes the greedy politicians and makes a very on-the-nose accusation of, “The corporations are filthy rich,” which sadly won’t end anytime soon. “Revenant” has guitars floating before the temperatures skyrocket, yowled vocals landing hard across the chest. The playing mashes and trucks, a classic thrash feel having its way, the pace causing blood to race to your face. “Warlord’s Command” is a re-recording of a track from the band’s 1985 debut album “Raging Violence,” and it gets a punishing remake while maintaining the spirit of the original. Closer “Worlds End” torches, De Pena howling, “Survive or die!” over the molten chorus. Guitars lather as the tempo destroys, the bass mauls, and everything comes to a raucous end, smoldering in ash.

Hirax remain as vital and punishing as ever more than four decades into their run, and “Faster Than Death” lives alongside the rest of their catalog quite capably. This is classic thrash in the best sense, raging with political anger, societal upheaval, and a sense that heavy metal is alive and well in a form we haven’t seen capably reinvented like death or black metal. This is a powerhouse of a record, one that will add some deadly gems to their already thunderous live shows.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://armageddonlabel.bandcamp.com/album/faster-than-death

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

Black metal has grown and flourished in many ways, and that hasn’t left everyone happy. I’ve always been one who’s fine with a sound’s evolution as long as it doesn’t stray into something unidentifiable, and there’s plenty out there to please most. Yet, there’s something about the basement aesthetics of the one-man black metal project that still gets me, a primitive state we don’t hear that often these days.

Aspaarn return with their fourth record “Oblations in Atrocity,” and it feels like it swirls in the early 1990s, when the point was to use instruments and tools that were lo-fi, to the early 2000s when strong playing under the canopy of chaos was more widely embraced. Here, sole creator Solaris Lupus builds upon his already ash-caked discography with these six tracks that feel like lost phantoms crying out in a damned night. Yet, if you listen closely through the glaze, you can hear the melodies, the carnage, the mental anguish that informs these songs. At the same time, the creator is reimagining ancient European culture where multiple deities informed life as well as lashing back at modern scourges such as totalitarianism, bigotry, repression and other ills that continue to haunt and destroy us.

“The Order of Fear” opens in a thick haze of eeriness, the washed-out black metal attack feeling like it originates from the beginning of the subgenre. The drums maul while the cries are buried beneath the noise, grim hissing and tornadic guitars doing battle, chaos caked to walls, the furnace opening and dragging you inside. “Memories in Suffering” clubs instantly as the guitars fire up, raw cries rippling as the guitars crawl into the darkness, encircling as the drums hammer. The pace races harder, digging in as the morbidity thickens, crushing with gravitational force, the howls smearing as the chaos finally subsides. “Silence of the Gods” brings warped guitars tangling, and then everything speeds up as cavernous sounds absorb your sense of self. The pace drives and drubs, sooty melodies taking hold, carving pathways as the pressure builds and explodes.

“Duty in Hecatomb” brings humidity and lapping guitars, growls retching as the pace strangles, monstrous gasps activating your nervous system. Guitars flood and stagger as hypnosis takes hold, the playing turning cold and bowing to echoes, the sooty finish spitting infernal sludge. “Boundless Hunger” hammers with urgency, staggering through disorienting passages, working into a heated, yet jerky section that shakes up your insides. Growls lash as the pace shreds, crazed and molten punishment aligning, guitars jangling to a dusty grave. Closer “All Reaching Misery” is the longest track, running a healthy 9:38 and lighting up with guitars raging and howls twisting guts. The playing warps as the drums open wounds, strange synth haunting as a gothy pathway is stomped with madness. Things continue to disorient even as the hammers drop with force, the guitars expanding and charging, the vocals taking full command one last time, and the final notes dissolving into an inky synth bath.

Aspaarn’s journey into maniacal delusion and unquestionable darkness feels like a nightmare that refuses to release its grip on “Oblations in Atrocity.” This record harkens back to the basement black metal record from two and three decades ago, as that terrifying nostalgia hits blackened brains and tortured hearts that have suffered immeasurable damage over that time. This record is a sort of wormhole back underneath the blanket of sonic damage, one that acknowledges our own wounds along with the creator’s and turns them into an altar at which we can burn these woes and spread the ashes into our mouths. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://aspaarn.bandcamp.com/album/oblations-in-atrocity

Are you exhausted yet? It’s still February? I don’t know how practical it is to think of the next four years and imagine a way to escape relatively unscathed mentally. We’re full bore into the most obvious coup ever, and the normal ugliness has reared its head with these people. It’s easy for me to be drained as a mere spectator. So many people already have and will suffer unnecessarily just based on hatred toward different from them.

On “Ruby Red,” the 10^th album from long-running neoclassical/folk band Amber Asylum, the evil surrounding us gets put under the microscope. This is musically and thematically one of their darkest records ever, and they ideally soundtrack the era in which we’re forced. Over seven tracks and 40 minutes, the band—Kris Force (viola, violin, synth, vocals), Jackie Perez–Gratz (cello, vocals), Fern Lee Alberts (bass), Becky Hawk (percussion, vocals)—focuses on societal upheaval, war, human rights, and the constant threat to women’s freedom and power. It’s frustrating to keep seeing the same fascist bullshit happen again and again, and while the music here is gorgeous and haunting, the pain and the anger can be felt radiating through every second of this mesmerizing record.

“Secrets” is an opening instrumental piece, strings scraping over dour tension, shadows sweeping the agony of the ages underfoot. The playing picks up and further enraptures, blood surging as strings flex, emotions blare, and the final moments mix into the mirage. The title track has bass slinking and the singing fluttering, plodding as foreboding images spark your brain. The playing quivers as drums echo, bathing in total darkness, sweltering once more before burning off. “Demagogue” has dread setting the stage as the strings respond in kind, the singing hovering over mournful passages. The playing sinks in its teeth and rows over waves into quieter terrain, lapping and coating with numbing effect. “The Morrigan,” named after the Celtic goddess of war, death, and fate, streaks into sight, the layers thickening, cloud cover growing impenetrable. The melodies get tougher and more menacing, energy swirling with drama, slipping behind visions that dash blood at the end of this instrumental. 

“Azure” dawns in a strange electric haze, threatening drone chaos as the cello pushes off, the singing swelling and radiating in echo. The haunting haze thickens as the bass picks up and adds ominous tones, the strings ache, and feral cries ring out, feedback dining on flesh left over on bone. “Weaver” feels like a dream state at first, doomy melodies washing over long festering wounds, wordless calls pulling with might for a semblance of control. The playing blends deeper with the impending doom, drizzling dank colors before disappearing into oblivion. Closer “A Call on the Wind” has the singing hovering, ghostly strains lingering, the bass plodding through a surreal reality. Sounds clash as the strings layer, the drums drive harder, and the singing reverberates, sending tingles through your nervous system. The energy flutters as anxiety spikes, pushing loud, pulsing drums into your heart before fading away.

“Ruby Red” finds us in one of our most perilous times, and the plight of our world that already was a thorny road looks to be getting blood soaked all over again. It’s frustrating and infuriating, and while Amber Asylum deliver the fitting amount of despair, they also provide pinholes of hope that light can shine through. We all face harrowing times, some more deeply than others, and music like this stands as both defiance and potential optimism for a world in turmoil.

For more on the band, go here: https://amber-asylum.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://us.spkr.media/us/Artists/Amber-Asylum/

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

It’s natural for trends to bleed into music as subgenres grow, warp, and reformulate, changing a sound largely based on events that preceded more recently. It’s made for some really inventive music, but it also can be just as refreshing when it seems no time has passed at all, and the music you’re experiencing feels like it thrives in no progress.

That’s admittedly a kind of shitty way to talk about death metal crushers Cryptual, but it’s a total positive when I say their style of music feels like it missed every evolution since the early 1990s. That’s by design as the band—vocalist Paul Ellis, guitarists Tony Capodilupo and Brad O’Malley, bassist Jimmy Palmer, drummer Kevin Stenseth—formed because a bunch of Milwaukee dudes wanted to get together to play classic death metal, and on their debut full-length “Convulsing Above the Ground,” they serve up a smoking serving of the good stuff. Over seven tracks and 25 minutes, Cryptual send up a sharp, perfectly portioned beating that gets in, does ample damage, and leaves blood and bone behind.

“A Painful Grace” opens in complete demolition, growls buried beneath the carnage, trudging with power. The guitars blaze with fury, the pace stomping and destroying, the heat consuming everything whole. “Muted Liturgy” delivers infernal smashing, howls ripping, and a monstrous fury having its way. The leads char as a melodic sweep takes hold, speed and ferocity combining to become a major factor, total decimation driving to an abrupt end. “Never Born Again” crunches and chugs, vicious leads going off and tangling around your neck like a cord. The playing then goes off, bubbling like a molten stream, the growls curdling as the band thrashes harder, scorching to the end. “Rotten Inside” has leads swinging and the growls mangling, setting into a throttling pace that mashes. Growls batter as the speed becomes a greater force, the guitars stinging as the playing grows brutally catchy, burning into ash.

“Self-Inflicted” trudges and injects heavy violence musically, the path feeling muddy and jagged, functioning like a battering ram opening up holes in the earth. A ferocious force rips from its center, the guitars adding more heat to an already steamy pile, ending in vile chaos. “The Walls Melt” has leads that scorch flesh, the power bleeding and blasting, the playing battering completely. The temperatures spike as the soloing takes control and lathers with madness, a fast, jarring attack coming at the end that buries you in dust. Closer “Thrall” attacks, monstrous force blowing through walls, melodic, yet flattening playing aiming to take down buildings. An ungodly blast detonates, twisting through volcanic madness, guitars taking over and rampaging to the end.

There’s no need for a fluffy ending here or some kind of philosophical meanderings because Cryptual ravage with old school-informed death metal that will utterly torch you with melody. “Convulsing Above the Ground” is slim and trim from a timing standpoint but utterly hellacious as a full package, a record that will make your blood pump and your body ache. This is a motherfucker of an album, one that should get Cryptual a lot more attention and adulation after they skewer you alive.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.ironfortressrecords.com/collections/all-iron-fortress-products

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