We live in a lot of darkness right now. It’s been thickening and lowering the past few years, but right now, we’re smack in the middle, with very few lights to shine a way out. “Leaders” cling to this purposely misleading religious oath wrought with fraud and evil, and we are expected to live inside it, waiting for some false salvation.

Savage Master don’t outwardly tackle this on their great new record “Dark & Dangerous,” but they sure do lay a path to something sinister and dark that isn’t oppressive and instead can feel outwardly freeing. On this, their fifth record, the band—vocalist Stacey Savage, guitarists Adam Neal, Larry Myers, and Julian Fried, drummer John Littlejohn—reigns supreme with their occult-based classic metal. Will it incinerate an oligarchy? No, not likely. But it can fill you with a different type of dark energy that strives for good, defies the system, and helps one find power and strength within themselves. This also happens to be their most powerful and sticky record yet, one with killer hooks, guitars that fill the senses with glory, and Savage’s vocals that spark fires and emotion you’ll need for battle.

“Three Red Candles” opens the record and is a classic metal instrumental, everything getting warmed up and heading toward “Warriors Call,” as strong a first full song as you’ll find in the band’s catalog. Savage’s singing dominates, as it should, carrying the way over fierce, yet glorious playing, the guitar work filling your veins with energy. The soloing ushers in a great throwback feel, and everything jolts. coming to a rousing end. “Black Rider” brings dashing guitars and chugging fury, riffs lathering as the vocals increase your pulse. The leads take over and explore with power, hammering along with Savage’s commanding voice. “The Edge of Evil” opens with guitar heat and synth glow, Savage flexing over the alluring chorus, with gang shouts to add to the muscle. In fact, she pushes her voice even higher in spots, later calling, “I’m on the edge,” as murky melodies dominate. “Devil’s Child” brings charging guitars, a metallic attack, and Savage wailing, “No sympathy, no love for me.” The electric pace rattles, the guitars turn into lasers through the darkness, penetrating urgency, bringing the track to a big finish. “Screams From the Cellar” is steamy, with a pace that gets your adrenaline going, guitars rushing and taking your breath with them. Some atmospheric gusts add a different feel, and the heavy chorus jars before only Savage’s voice warps in echo. 

“Never Ending Fire” has the bass driving, the motors charging, and a tasty classic metal atmosphere, Savage defiantly calling, “Now I’m going to break my chains, learn to love again.” The positivity leads to guitars swallowing you whole, blasting through your chest and leaving you heaving. “Devil Rock” is pretty to the point, a strange open leading to a catchy attack, trudging as the synth bathes you in weird light, Savage howling, “Dirty looks and holy books don’t mean much to me.” The chorus is simple and driving, an easy live callback, with the final promise of, “I’m going to steal your soul,” sending chills. “I Never Wanna Fall in Love” kind of counters “Never Ending Fire” thematically as here, Savage burns love to the ground. This is total ’80s thunder, and I love it, storming its way through group vocals, lathering guitars, and Savage insisting, “I know I’m better on my own,” as everything crashes down. “When the Twilight Meets the Dawn” starts clean before rampaging, thrashing as hard as anything else on this record, the singing ruling as the power grows. Hammering intensity makes everything feel even more urgent as the soloing boils, bringing everything to a snarling end. Closer “Cold Hearted Death” starts as a mystical ballad, Savage’s vocals coming softer, the keys enveloping with murk. “Won’t let me go free,” Savage calls as the chorus swelters, and emotion floods. The guitars then blaze, packing a heartfelt punch, as everything swims through fire, melting over for an exciting conclusion.

Savage Master have been on the cusp of breaking out for a while now, and “Dark & Dangerous” just might be what helps them get there. These songs are massive, driven, and catchy as fuck, pouring classic heavy metal thunder, thorns, and fantasy into one hulking package. This is Savage Master’s most formidable album, and hopefully everyone else catches up with their majesty. 

For more on the band, go here: https://staceysavagemaster.bandcamp.com/album/dark-dangerous

To buy the album, go here: https://www.shadowkingdomrecords.com/pre-orders.asp

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

We could use a mental break, right? As I type this, which is well before you read it, it’s just shit wall to wall, fascism spreading its poisonous wings as half the country is in fucking denial? How do you pull yourself out of that mentally? How does one manage to feel good again in the midst of a nightmare?

Well, distractions are nice, and putting on a heavy metal record that reminds you about your heart and fight could be the perfect antidote, at least for a while. That’s where Pittsburgh trad metal warriors Lady Beast come in, and they arrive just in time with their fifth record “The Inner Alchemist.” This band—vocalist Deborah Levine, guitarists Andy Ramage and Chris Tritschler, bassist Amy Bianco, drummer Adam Ramage—always answers the bell when we need a jolt of the pure stuff, and this nine-track offering keeps intact their trademark sound but also scuffs it up a bit, letting you feel the chrome blast right against your head. It’s a heavier, more channeled Lady Beast that breathes fresh air into their machine and makes it more muscular. 

“The Oracles Omen” rips out of the gates, Levine’s singing in full command as always, the playing driving colorfully. The soloing goes off as the power consumes, the chorus blazing back, everything ending in a sinister tone. “Through the Eyes of War” has a vintage Maiden feel at the start, I’m talking pre-Dickinson, and the singing snarls, violent imagery spilling over and filling the shadows. The soloing smoke as the pace trudges, dual leads cutting through the void and disappearing into madness. The title track is a real standout, jolting as the guitars surge, Levine shining over a simple chorus that’s expertly sung and full of energy. The leads glisten as the push picks up the pace, bleeding into a classic-style run that keeps your heart racing. “Starborn” starts slower and shimmers, channeling Rainbow, but it isn’t long until the guitars melt, and the beast tears through your chest, smoking like a chimney. “From the stars we’re born, and to the stars we return,” Levine belts, the pace hitting harder, lathering with a vintage stomp that gallops to an abrupt end.

“Crones Crossroads” charges, coming in faster and meaner, the singing even taking on a more ferocious edge. The chorus blisters as the guitars steer toward menace, thrashing as wild cackles reverberate, delirious emotion making your blood rush. “Feed Your Fire” crushes with full NWOBHM authority, the riffs wrestling you down and bending your arms behind your back. Speedy and propulsive, the path is beaten bloody by a rollicking bassline, the chorus whipping you again, and your breath suddenly increasing. “Witch Light” should be a beer name. Instead, it’s an urgent basher, twin guitars ruling, rocky melodies carrying the way. The leads glisten and increase the heat, encircling you in an instrumental metal storm that sizzles with lightning. “The Wild Hunt” pushes the gas pedal but also contains a bit more grit, the pace chewing at bone and muscle, the swinging sweltering. Dual leads flood as glorious spirits rise and carry you into a commanding finish. Closer “Off With Her Head” is a barnstormer, the vocals flexing, a fast, blunt chorus digging into your nervous system. Levine practically spits her words on the verses, guitars ignite and bubble over, and a fiery vengeance pushes everything else to the limit.

Lady Beast are a force, pulling from the roots that generated heavy metal and always packing their music with passion and power that you can’t help but feel in every pore. “The Inner Alchemist” follows the same path the band has been on, but it’s noted there’s an extra sharp cut on their blades, and they sound as explosive as ever, more like how their live shows feel. This is music we need right now when the darkness is at its thickest, and we need something to keep us headed toward the light, where forces of justice can thrive once again, vanquishing the cancer of tyranny.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://dyingvictims.com/index.php

For more on the label, go here: https://dying-victims.de/

I don’t own a sword. Yet. But if I did, certainly I can see myself wanting to be inundated with music that would make me want to take up said blade and dramatically swing it above my head. In my backyard. I don’t need those government motherfuckers over here wondering if I’m about to attack a Tesla.

That said, “By Light of Emerald Gods” is the first long player by Colorado-based classic heavy metal force Chamber Mage, and does this ever foot the bill for music I’d want to hear if I had to participate in a trial by combat. Over eight tracks and about a half hour, the band—vocalist Avery Berg, guitarists Devan Fechner and Jaden Knowles, bassist Ted Jedlicki, drummer Daniel Nevin—packs riffs, swords clanging, and driving vocals over a collection that easily would have landed in 1984. If you’ve got a hankering for something like Manilla Road, Visigoth, or Cirith Ungol, then you’ll be right at home on this record that jettisons me back to my formative metal years and fills me with unbridled power. You can use something like that every now and again.

“In Battle” starts with the sounds of swords clashing! What better way to open a metal record? Guitars heat up as the pace gallops, Berg’s commanding vocals adding energy but never overpowering. Boisterous “woah-oh-oh” calls get your energy channeled, and the final battle adding clanging that leaves everything in dust. “Blades on the Rampart” is daring, gritty singing pushing, a smashing chorus taking you down with force. Berg sings of the ills of war as guitars command, ripping back into soaring vocals and vintage fire that ends this thing in fire. “Bishop’s Vengeance” has guitars chugging as the riffs flex, deeper singing landing meatier punches before the soloing rips. The electricity jolts through your veins as the bass thickens, the chorus swings back for one more shot, and smoke enshrouds. “Beyond the Lighthouse” brings slicing guitars and a driving pace, Berg digging deep into his guts vocally, the pace growing more muscular. Guitars sweep as the tempo bristles, the vocals spreading their wings before the melodies go clean and slip away.

“To Spires Deep and Caverns High” punches immediately, the playing going faster, the singing blasting as the drumming comes unglued. The pulsating quakes the earth as fluid soloing ignites, group calls make your heart race, and a raging, gutting end goes for your ribcage. “The Length of the Chain” opens with guitars snaking through an aggressive rhythm section, the singing toughening, and a melodic fury arriving with relentless energy. Berg’s words speak of defying a temptress, the simple chorus feeling urgent and impactful, the pace surging before a soaring end. “The Emerald Tower Revealed” has guitars churning and energetic singing, the catchiness impossible to shake as the pace stomps before coming ablaze. The chorus rouses with power as the guitars collect their strength and charge, the leads exploring the outer realms before a dusty end. Closer “The Silver City Fell” runs 10:42, and it is a proper concluding epic, with emotional singing, glazing strings, and a calculated pace unfurling to tell the tale. Guitars fire up as the playing grows more sinister, going on a melodic run that still has its blades stuck deep within you. The tempo and danger both spike, the playing clashing like the swords at the opener, Berg calling, “The tower that would never fall is lying broken after all,” leading to a furious, dramatic finish that leaves you battered.

Chamber Mage’s plight to continue the storied honor of classic metal bursts at the seams on “By Light of the Emerald Gods.” This is a steady debut record, one that will resonate with the old guard fans who have been dining in these halls for decades now as well as the newer listeners who found their way back through other newer bands of this ilk. This is an album that helps you get lost in your imagination as great battles, large feast halls, and vengeful fires surge, leaving you exhausted yet exhilarated by what you just experienced. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://namelessgraverecords.com/collections/nameless-grave-records-releases

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

I like reliability in bands as much as the next person, and it’s good sometimes to put something on and just sink into familiarity. It’s another experience altogether to take on music from a band that’s constantly changing, maintaining its DNA but always pushing toward something else that charges.

Belgian metal power Amenra very much fall into the latter, and when they put out new music, you have to leave your expectations at the door, because they don’t deal in formulas. Speaking of which, they’re back with a duo of EPs that pull from different sound palettes from their history and update them for the present. “De Toorn” and “With Fang and Claw” definitely sound like the same band, but broken up into different regions of their creative minds. The band—vocalist Colin H. van Eeckhout, guitarists Mathieu Vandekeckhove, Lennart Bossu, and Tim De Gieter, percussionist Bjorn J. Lebon (Oathbreaker’s Caro Tanghe provides backing vocals—gives you more reflective, meditative tones on “De Toorn,” while “Fang” is grislier and heavier, a bloodier package that leaves its mark with force. Both, especially when digested back to back, give an encapsulation of their melodic forces, their cerebral energies, each leaving a different lasting impression.  

The “De Toorn” portion opens with “Heden,” spreading with knocking effects echoing, a slow build, and spoken verses in their native tongue. Guitars glisten as the words sprawl, continuing to work deeper into the fog, soft singing lurking, and the path widening as chilling air approaches. At about the 9:35 mark, the track detonates, shrieks maiming as the tension tightens the cord, screaming and singing disappearing into hypnosis. “De Toorn (Talisman)” starts calmly, drums tapping as the spoken words drip, calls echoing as the calculated pace crawls into murk. Drums pace as the bass quivers, a sullen darkness spreading overhead, clean guitars beginning a ramp up and exploding, shrieks carving bone as the doom waters thicken. Dusty riffs choke, the playing bashes away, and the screams belt rib cages as the cosmos opens its jaws. 

The “With Fang & Claw” portion opens with “All Is Light” as a noise haze hovers, gushing as the shrieks create a smoke cloud, harsh and colorful melodies uniting and tangling, bursting with new colors that blaze across the sky. The playing melts into a corrosive pile, the growls gut as the intensity shoulder blocks its way in, the humidity thickening and choking. “Talisman/Wrath” closes the collection, guitars spiraling, screams leaving dents, the doom gust thickening and filling lungs. The pace grows more urgent, the vocals crushing before the tidal wave pulls back, entering reflective realms, clean singing soothing before a final stab. Screams gut as menacing riffs encircle, stirring and wrecking before the power finally subsides.

These two EPs feel like, as designed, as a trip through specific stages of the Amenra canon, and both bring inventive, reflective, and menacing chapters to both their surreal and brutal work. Each EP also fits different moods, depending on what you’re feeling, though a journey through the whole thing isn’t an unwelcome thing no matter where your head is at the moment. This band never rests, always evolves, and leaves the listener emotionally and spiritually tested like very few other bands can accomplish.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.relapse.com/collections/amenra-de-toorn-with-fang-and-claw

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

New York City long has been an inspiration and sometimes target for people when they think of the United States. The culture, the architecture, the history, and the arts overflow, feeling like it’s the real center point of the United States, a place people come to experience everything it has to offer. And it’s been the target of two high-profile terror attacks. There’s a reason for that.

The city long has inspired black metal trio Imperial Triumphant—vocalist/guitarist Zachary Ezrin, bassist/keyboard player Steve Blanco, drummer Kenny Grohowski—and on “Goldstar,” they continue to dig deeper into the city’s seamy history, the smoke and smog included. This is the band’s fourth consecutive look back at a very specific period for NYC, and if it feels like a strange fever dream from a century ago, you’re on the right track. The fact the band finds this much to mine from the city is astonishing, and they keep creating pieces that feel like they’re reaching out from the past, wrenching us with horrors and violence we can digest today. The record doesn’t delve terribly far from their past few releases that kicked off with 2018’s “Vile Luxury,” but there are twists and turns, new color palettes, and expanded sounds that prove they are growing along with this empire city. 

“Eye of Mars” opens already drubbing, a smeary path mixing with keys and Ezrin’s roars that explode out of the speakers. Things are zany, which is typical for this band, with some end-of-days horns aching, and then the trudging gets heavier, the bass grows rubbery, and cosmic winds chill after a total combustion. “Gomorrah Nouveaux” starts with rhythmic claps and the drumming playing along, crushing with sooty growls, delirious gusts, and the bass again flexing its steely muscles. Organs breeze as the pace engulfs anew, the bass slapped as the smoke rises, guitars sprawling and swallowing everything into the sewage systems. “Lexington Delirium” features Meshuggah drumming beast Tomas Haake, and it starts clean and elegant as distant sirens cry, eerie strangeness bubbling before the growls erupt. Again, the bass playing is very active, and even a brief breath of calm explodes into savagery, sailing into a cosmic bath, returning to crush wholly. “Hotel Sphinx” turns up the insanity, leads sweeping as crazed cries penetrate, the guitars warping and snarling, weirdness at every corner. Whirry synth chills and gives off science lab vibes, and then it combusts, a children choir chanting, the end balanced in filth. “NEWYORKCITY” is a brutal shock, a blinding, almost grind-like destroyer with Yoshiko Ohara (of the great Bloody Panda) attacking, shrieking, and warbling as your brain tries to hang on for dear life.

The title track plays like an old time radio ad, harmonized singing calling the praises of Goldstar brand cigarettes, urging, “Die for Goldstar.” And you will! “Rot Moderne” squeezes your temples as the pace goes for broke, your brain melting along with the bass smoking, and the guitars chewing and bubbling with electricity. Start/stop mangling bruises our extremities while an unsettling force sends vibrations, the playing spitting sparks. “Pleasuredome” features the legendary Dave Lombardo (ex-Slayer, Mr. Bungle) as well Haake, sirens signaling trouble as the ambiance churns. The playing then drives into your heart, bells chiming in loops, howls reverberating, and the rhythm bashing your skull into concrete. A haunting aura builds as molten thrashing lays waste, sounds fading into the steam. Closer “Industry of Misery” lets keys drip before everything ignites, guitars knifing as the tempo challenges your stomach contents, hypnosis mixing with a thickening smoke cloud. The melodies continue to make the room spin, fiery jolts landing blows to your ribcage, the city vermin circling you and taking you deep underground.

Imperial Triumphant’s journey into the center of a city long since decayed into something else remains as ashen and energetic on “Goldstar,” a trim, muscular beast that aims to throw you from the top of the Chrysler building. The band’s fixation with this subject matter might grow weary after time, but it’s clear these guys have so much more inspiration and devastation to pack into their music that continues to morph into a different being each time out. This is another fascinating vision from one of the most challenging bands in all black metal. And metal in general.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.imperial-triumphant.com/

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://centurymedia.store/pages/imperial-triumphant-gold-star

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

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

It’s been an awfully productive year for darkness and morbidity, and it’s still fucking March! The weather is getting warmer, the sun is out longer, and for some reason, the malaise cannot be overcome. For good reason. Evil walks the earth. Rules it in many parts. So excuse us if we aren’t feeling it. 

So it’s as fitting a time as ever to get a record crusher from Hungarian death/doom power Rothadás, that being “Töviskert… a kísértés örök érzete… lidércharang.” I don’t speak the language, and Google translate gave me “Thorn Garden … the Eternal Feeling of Temptation … Ghostly Harangue,” and yeah, that about captures the tone of this six-track beast. The two-headed monster consisting of vocalist/drummer Lambert Lédeczy, guitarist/bassist Tobir Hanyi pours a ton of morbid tones, deathly power, and ghastly doom over 45 minutes that’ll you’ll feel in every cell. Oh, and don’t let any language barrier scare you. Even if you’re not aware of what they’re saying (wailing?) the feel is there, and you can’t help but be captured by the harrowing tones and immersive journey into darkness.

“Urnaszellem… szentek csontpora” opens in a doomy cloud, sinking your feelings, the death strains coming on like blades. The pace then pummels, turning fiery and crushing, the guitars ache, and the vocals sicken with guttural sour. The playing then pulverizes, engulfing you in hell, the guitars melting into the soil. “Vértükör” drubs as the growls boil, sludge and muck combine to clog veins, and the guitars heat up and knife through the chaos. The pace dizzies as the growls engorge, everything chugging through a massive heat wave that wilts wills. “Sóhajok kapuja” churns and drubs, the doomy death thickening as speed picks up and makes your heart race. Sickened howls lash out as the pressure mounts, raw fury digs in its fingers, and mesmerizing tones make the growls feel like they’ve come from a dream state to rupture your psyche.

“Tetemek tava… lidércek tánca” opens already crushing with its weight, heated riffs encircling as the band achieves a dangerous level of death crush, if that’s a real thing. Then things devolve into slow-driving filth, calculated hell, and the guitars amplifying the misery before melting away. “Sikoltó füst” has guitars chewing and stomping, the growls hazing, and a bizarre glaze spread over everything. If it feels like your mind is melting, you’re not alone as riffs destroy and tear everything apart, and the steam rises, reddening your flesh along the way. Closer “Az örök isten Lucifer” slowly churns, growls rumbling through airy playing, the well eventually bursting as everything overflows with ferocity. Death mauls as the pace gets angrier and more monstrous, generating a fog that chokes and settles into an eerie cleanliness. There’s even a gothy feel blowing through before the guitars sting, strange singing bellows, and sounds fade in a pit of darkness. 

“Töviskert… a kísértés örök érzete… lidércharang” will stomp your face and psyche in short order, and their numbing pile of doom and death metal is a suffocating and depressing. Rothadás have a might and penchant for misery that digs deep inside of you, leaving you blackened. This is a  beastly album that leverages all of its weight and never relents from making the experience flatten you for the better.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/rothadas-toviskert-a-kisertes-orok-erzete-lidercharang-lp/

Or here: https://store.pulverised.net/

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

And here: https://www.pulverised.net/

Death metal has this strange thing about it where the subgenre seems to grow exponentially each year and also stays the same as it was when its roots popped through the rotting earth. Simplistically, that means a lot of bands have taken the sound elsewhere, while we still have a nice slate of artists that find the graveyards and swamps home.

Michigan death squad Throne is kind of the best of both worlds, which they prove on their great second record “That Who Sat Upon Him, Was Death.” I’ll ignore that weird comma. The band—vocalist/guitarist Nathan Barnes, lead guitarist Tim Kenefic, bassist Leslie Drake, drummer Kollin Perpignani—definitely has their bloodied, muddied boots with the original crop of death metal bands that inspired a movement, but they also have a lot of modern flourishes to their sound, so it’s a nice variety. Plus, this record is brutal to the core and properly melodic, with the vocals particularly coming off as gruesome and unforgiving. Over eight tracks and 30 minutes, they serve up a beating that’s sized just right, leaving you fulfilled yet morbidly wanting more. 

“Disentombed” opens with guitars in full attack mode, brutality retching as the growls take hold and squeeze maniacally. The howls are mixed with shrieks, giving off a Trevor Strnad vibe (this is present throughout the record), and then the drums slaughter, the guitars rise and raise the temperature, and a battering force tears everything away. “To Breathe the Unknown” opens calmy, but it’s not long until ferocity ignites, the growls choking as guitars chug, speed becoming a greater factor. The riffs race as monstrous, gross grinding eats at you, the guitars enrolling into full corrosion. “Blasphemous Perversion” has the bass plodding and guitars bursting, the growls going guttural as all elements mangle. The pace trudges as the heat builds dangerously, guitars soar, and menacing snarls bury your face in the dirt. “Realm of Immolation” has guitars hovering like vultures, the drums powdering bones, and your senses smashed completely. The growls warp as the drumming again aims to loosen teeth, the pace speeding toward a final gasp of menace.

“Human Frailty” races from the gates, penetrating your mind, hammering away as the growls retch and choke. The guitars get thick and humid, turning into a deathlike haze, the riffs lathering with foamy blood, a brain-erasing pace picking up and leading to complete destruction. “Upon Deathless Winds” opens with guitars dashing, savage blazing taking hold, and the growl/shriek combo once again tearing out nerves. A molten pace explodes, everything coming unglued, and senses get blistered, all amid some rather melodic lead lines that make the bruising feel oddly comforting. “Behold Impurity” unleashes drums that decimate, growls and screams that maim, and a splattering attack that digs in its claws. The guitars pick up the pace as it feels like skulls are being dragged across rocky terrain, the playing rushes, and the vocals sink the dagger into your chest. Closer “Where Angels Cower in Fear” dashes as the guitars strangle, and the tempo feels like it’s going for broke. The vocals scrape more flesh as the guitars take on a Scandinavian vibe, the leads electrifying, the direction shifting violently, a final, sudden burst blasting away.

Throne’s death metal comes at you like a prowling beast, taking you down with hardly a moment’s notice on “That Who Sat Upon Him, Was Death.” This is one of those records that should register with the death metal old guard as well as people who dine on carnage from the past decade, with the overlap of those two audiences seemingly a harmonious one. This is a motherfucker of a record that will take you down and give you a thorough beating that strangely satisfies in the end. 

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

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

Or here: https://redefiningdarkness.8merch.com/

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

There are records that are a collection of songs that work as a tandem, the assembled work or an artist or artists that fit together. There are others that feel like events, communal expressions, voices sent out to the stars, often a combination of those factors, and when they land, they live beyond a creative cycle. They’re beings.

Rwake have been gone a long time. It’s been 14 years since “Rest” roused our metallic souls, and if you put that album on today (I actually just did) it sounds as fresh and vital as the day it was born. The Arkansas-based band, that’s as much a close-knit family as they are a musical outfit, finally are back with us on sixth record “The Return of Magick,” a brute force dashed with psychedelic colors and an unbreakable bond with the cosmos and nature. This is one of those event records. This six-track, 54-minute excursion has the band sounding as full of life as ever before, and perhaps that break helped this group—vocalists C.T. (who also handles words and themes) and Brittany (also on keys), guitarists Austin and John (lap and pedal steel, 12-string bass), bassist Reid, drummer Jeff (who also handles acoustic guitars and 12-string bass)—explodes through these songs that will test you mind and body and hopefully connect you to something greater than just the music. This is one of the best records yet, and I adore their back catalog. But this one is stuck on repeat, and I don’t see that changing.

“You Swore We’d Always Be Together” opens ominously with clean guitars flowing, accordion landing softly, and then the thing rips, growls and shrieks sounding wonderfully scorched, pedal steel adding a syrupy emotional heft, warm leads battling with the sludge. Screams penetrate again, guitars trucking as the playing spills, everything subsiding in an electric haze. The title track wastes no time, trucking with furious cries, the intensity hammering as the guitars wrapped like a cord, compromising your blood flow, C.T delivering spoken messages, “To all the witches in the woods, and to the goblins that understood, there is a spirit that walks among us, and it is living proof.” The speaking melts into warm guitars and long, immersive passages, C.T. later declaring, “It’s the return of magic in a crystal fucking palace, beyond biology and beyond all traits.” Dual guitars wrest control as howls recharge and sneer, shadows dripping blood as the fury slowly fades away. “With Stardust Flowers” punches its way in, vile shrieks hammering, punishment dealt with an even hand, the flow eventually growing calmer and more reflective. “Time is our great cosmic conductor,” C.T. warbles, “nothing escapes the song or spell we are under. Built from stardust sustained by cosmic ingredients, every cell is linked to an earlier stream of consciousness.” Guitars splash more colors before draining, tingling, and then everything speeds up suddenly, strains rushing through a mud stream, blistering and bleeding out.

“Distant Constellations and the Psychedelic Incarceration” is the longest track here at 13:56, and the opening is narrated by Jim “Dandy” Mangrum of the great Black Oak Arkansas. This is a segment that feels like an elder uncovering great wisdom from a wormhole in the past, echoing to the present and future. Acoustics and strings rise, guitars set their path, and wind whips, C.T. and Brittany trading lines that mash reflective with ferocious. The whole thing turns back into the darkness, feeling through chugging guitars and mashing rhythms, shrieks then exploding as if from hell. That temperature spike continues and ravages through maiming insanity that drains your mind dry. “In After Reverse” is warped before it guts, animalistic howls digging in their heels, doomy vibes rippling through the earth. The hypnosis takes on a greater hand, C.T. calling, “Vibrations alone, illusive emotion, the orchestra clocked, foundation in symphony, the atomic fate, a conducted crustacean, influence the state and conduct a rotation.” Spacey echo takes over as the playing recharges, the riffs storm, and the shrieks unravel, everything blistering and spiking the heat, eventually fading into a comic psychedelic cavern. Outro piece “Φ” has pianos dripping, acoustics teaming with pedal steel glaze, and the final embers fading into a scorched sunset.

Having Rwake back in our midst is a gift in and of itself, and the fact that “The Return of Magick” is such a triumph is a testament to this familial unit. There is darkness packed into these songs for sure, but there also are plenty of strains of optimism and reminders that we’re more than just being in flesh suits. We have our minds, the universe, and, yes, magic, all elements that can push us beyond mere existence into something with even more meaning than what this earth can provide.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.relapse.com/collections/rwake-the-return-of-magik

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

We are in an era where people take things too seriously in metal. Let me back up a second. I’m not saying musicians should not take their craft seriously. They very much should. But the ability to let loose from preconceived actions and just be free as a listener seems like it needs a recalibration. It’s OK to have a good time.

No doubt Sanhedrin are deadly serious about that they do, but taking on their music isn’t exactly dipping your head into a swirl of current events and content that will remind of what ails you. The band—vocalist/bassist Erica Stoltz, guitarist/backing vocalist Jeremy Sosville, drummer Nathan Honor—hearkens back a few decades to when heavy metal was largely summer music, stuff to blast as you guzzle a beer or 40 and forget the bullshit. On their fourth record “Heat Lightning,” they very much remain in that headspace, creating music that’s an escape, something to get your blood flowing. These nine cuts feel like they could have originated in the mid-1980s and caused no one at that time to question its origin, and it’s a blast to hear, especially with warmer weather approaching. Not that it also doesn’t sound amazing in the dead of winter! 

“Blind Wolf” jumps from the gates, guitars smoking with classic metal heat, Stoltz’s tough singing belting you across the face. “Now the wolf in you is mine,” she calls, the playing charging with authoritative strength, the guitars blazing away. The title track tingles the senses, and the pace pulls back a little, the verses numbing before sparks fly on the chorus. Guitars come to life as the pace catches fire, the chorus blasting back before warm riffs wash everything away. “Above the Law” is aggressive as Stoltz snarls, the guitars snaking, and gang-shouted vocals striking over the chorus. The intensity remains, crushing as the soloing goes off, great energy snapping back and ending the attack slashing away at limbs. “The Fight of Your Life” pays homage to those who could not resist the call to play music for a living, the band answering that call again with power and glory, churning and creating metallic flashes. “Hey friend, where you going with that ax in your hand?” Stoltz calls, “I’m going to cut your throat!” Soloing smears as the heat continues to rise, finally fading into darkness.

“King of Tides” has the guitars coating, and a darker, more calculated pace, the humidity picking up noticeably. “We’ll have to bend them to our wills,” Stoltz howls, the guitars engulfing with fiery passion, a dark finish ending in crackling flames. “Franklin County Line” is inspired by Sosville’s hometown in northern New York, creating a song about the local Amish population that goes off the rails. “Smoking and drinking and fornicating,” Stoltz wails, the winds of youthful expression and experimentation whipping, the guitars charring to a blinding finish. “Let’s Spill Some Blood” has guitars jolting and the singing a little more restrained. “Let’s show the world what we’re made of,” Stoltz declares, with revenge in the air, guitars spreading their wings, and the call of, “What you reap is what you sow,” landing the dagger. “High Threshold for Pain” has guitars clashing and the bass driving, the singing rising over the top of a bubbling cauldron. The leads numb before slashing back, the simple, yet effective chorus washing over. Closer “When the Will Becomes the Chain” has guitars swaggering and the band setting the mood, Stoltz wailing, “Swallow the sword from hilt to blade.” The bulk of the song is mid-tempo but channeled, the bass plodding as guitars simmer, letting the steam waft dangerously. The chorus returns for another stomp, and then the playing boils and burns, the darkness swallowing everything whole.

“Heat Lightning” has the band firing on all cylinders and sounding refreshed, not that their previous work was showing any sign of strain. Sanhedrin fit in a perfect sweet spot that pulls in both rock and metal fans, and there is plenty of fire here to keep you fully engaged. This record is an easy repeat listen, especially with the warmer months coming, when this type of album will hit its emotional peak.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.sanhedrin.nyc/

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

Or here (Europe): https://eu.kingsroadmerch.com/metal-blade

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

We talk a lot about live being disrupted because we lived through a half-decade of tumult, and this country is, yet again, in the strangulating throes of evil. But pain didn’t just begin with a pandemic. For many people, the blood and tears have been flowing for much longer, and the trail toward recovery is rockier.

We haven’t heard from Canadian sludge power Pyres since 2013, a whole lifetime ago, it seems. Think how much the world has changed since then, and not always for the better (actually usually not for the better). The band—vocalist/guitarist Andrew Wilson, guitarist Marc Delparte, bassist Devin LaMere, drummer Aleks Hara—arrived with “Year of Sleep” 12 years ago, and then things went horribly off the rails. Wilson’s sister was lost to a murder/suicide, and then his father passed away. Real-life shit. The band continued to play, and then the pandemic hit, the lineup shuffled, and all the trauma hit home. Luckily for the band, and us, they regrouped and created “Yun,” a record that helps Wilson and the group parse through loss, pain, grief, and frustration and shows Pyres completely reborn. It’s a record that gets more powerful each listen and could connect with people suffering through the similar circumstances.

“Mononeurvosa” opens slowly, guitars coming to life, swinging through gravelly growls  and sludgy smoke. The guitars then ramp up and torch, throaty howls pounding away, clean, yet gritty singing lashing, the grime building before blasting out. “Some, Not All, Came Back” has guitars snaking through strange tributaries, the singing pushing into melodic, yet abrasive waves. Riffs sweep, and a Southern rock feel emerges, the playing growing more spacious, your mind tingling in your skull, a ridig burst embracing burly corners. “A Depth Charge in a Dead Sea” runs 12:59, and it begins solemnly, meandering through dreamy calm, softer singing emerging before getting thornier. Howls explode as the pace continues to grow, atmospheric sludge draining over everything, the vocals stretching and battering, guitars gaining intensity. Then we’re back to serene waters, the guitars soaring slowly like light beams through thick clouds, an emotional gaze basking in sun-splashed waves.

“Granular Flow” has drums splattering and the guitars coming to life, giving off a High on Fire feel. Abrasive singing meets with swaggering guitars, soloing erupting and blazing harder, a throaty chorus landing blows before a smashing finish. “Nova Cruciatus” has the drums rousing, guitars creating smoke pillars, and a barnstorming force taking hold. The playing chugs and leans into shimmery passages, group singing makes blood rush, and molten energy spits chaos. “Lineage” has strong riffs and roaring singing, Wilson wailing, “Break this bloodline, break the chains.” The pace keeps getting faster and more volatile, laying waste and choking your lungs with soot. Closer “Old Dogs” pulls back a bit, feeling clean and reflective, though the singing is tougher, Wilson insisting, “Tears won’t bring them home.” Bass plods as the guitars gush emotion, melting into a fog that soothes your mind. The playing gets burlier as a tidal wave of emotions crash, the drums ignite, and everything lifts deep into outer space. 

“Yun” is both a bloodletting and an exercise in catharsis, with Pyres pouring every ounce of themselves into this record. It’s been a long time coming, this album, and so much has happened since we last heard from this band, it would be easy to understand if it went off the rails and meandered. Yet they found restraint and ways to express this into a nicely served record that’s impactful, doomy as hell, and gushing with power and strength.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://hypaethralrecords.com/collections/pyres

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