Most bands that have successful runs have a record you can point back to as the one that started the momentum. That’s where everything the artists involved put into their mix really exploded in a good way, and it ends up being a jumping off point for them to reach even higher heights.

I’m guessing the listeners who are introduced to Tower through their great new record “Let There Be Dark,” their third, may end up feeling this way, like this is where things really got started. This feels like the band—vocalist Sarabeth Linden, guitarists James Danzo and Zak Penley, bassist Philippe Arman, drummer Keith Mikus—truly hitting on all cylinders, adding more heaviness but also additional melody. From the first listen, I was hooked, and I’ve been a fan of the band since their 2016 self-titled debut and really enjoyed 2021’s “Shock to the System.” But there’s something different here, and underlying dark majesty, that really pulls this all together and shines like nothing they’ve done before. We’re likely to look back at “Let There Be Dark” as the band’s true coming out moment, the album that showed what they’re capable of and threatened more in the future. It scorches.

“Under the Chapel” starts off the record and immediately thrusts you into a darker version of the band, guitars flowing as Linden’s voice wraps everything in fire. Her voice is in full command, and the band gets more aggressive behind her, the guitars blazing, and the tempo daring you to step in its way. “Let There Be Dark” has guitars thickening, driving and drilling, gang voices helping give the chorus more thrust, Linden’s shriek of the word “dark” blackening eyes. Some of the singing sounds righteously spat out, everything coming to a huge finish. “Holy Water” begins with bells chiming, liturgical chants spiraling, the guitars smearing soot into prone mouths, “I’m begging on my knees, don’t forsake me,” Linden pleads, the guitars sweltering and swinging harder, burying the tension. “And I Cry” is steamy and tingles, the leads heating up as Linden’s singing is more reflective. The pace picks up, leading into a simple, but effective chorus, the player later scalding as the heat rises, sizzling before the noise fades. “The Well of Souls” is a brief instrumental with acoustics taking to the wind, a folkish bend adding rustic illumination.

“Book of the Hidden” crushes open, Linden’s voice taking control, burning into a strange haze. “So it is written, so it is sealed,” she wails, the guitars adding more menace, driving hard through flooding melodies and surging moodiness. “Legio X Fretensis” is another quick instrumental, taking on a Latin vibe, acoustics kicking up dust, leading toward “Iron Clad” that’s incredibly catchy as it starts, riffs powering the way. The singing coats wounds as the pace races, Linden later turning toward a throttling howl, the guitars blazing and creating a thick screen of smoke, torching to a rupturing end. “Don’t You Say” begins with guitars sparkling, reminding of vintage Dokken, and the slower-moving pace lets the sticky energy permeate the atmosphere. The playing kicks into higher gear as the intensity picks up noticeably, fading into smoke. Closer “The Hammer” gets your blood racing right away, a melodic chorus taking hold as Linden warns, “Here comes the hammer!” The guitars take on an old Maiden-style gallop as boisterous “woah-oh-oh” calls ignite, and the power subsides in a stream of foamy blood.

“Let There Be Dark” is a massive step forward for Tower, a band that already was showing serious electricity before this and has surpassed their previous accomplishments. This is a record and band that surely dines on a lot of classic sounds, but they are so much more than a revisitation of metal’s roots. They’re a dynamic, channeled band that is growing exponentially and finally are hitting the sweet spot between hooky and hammering more than ever before.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.cruzdelsurmusic.com/store/index.php?route=product/category&path=35

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

I was pretty excited this past year to have a chance to grab the reissues of Coalesce’s records, repressed by Relapse and giving those of us whose CD collections are now in basements to finally have them on wax. I didn’t need more than that. I have these great records now, and I can enjoy these scathing collections for the rest of my life. Little did I know there was something brewing, albeit an entirely different entity.

Long-time Coalesce frontman Sean Ingram has bowed away from the music scene the last decade, putting his focus elsewhere, but inside the embers remained. It took working with multi-instrumentalist and producer Josh Barber for the reignition to happen, and result is “Life Is Violence,” the debut from their new project Idle Heirs. Ingram sounds incredible, but he isn’t just shrieking his lungs out. His clean singing shows a different shade of him, and the music the duo creates fall more on the ISIS/Cult of Luna (the latter a direct influence) shine to eight reflective, volcanic, mesmerizing tracks that center on the themes of parenthood from generation to generation. The music packs the same emotional wallop as Ingram’s other work, and it can dig into you and address different parts of your being, filling you with volcanic passion.

“Loose Tooth” has an eerie intro, Ingram’s clean singing oddly cathartic, a far cry from his normal beastly bark. “I hate what I’ve become,” he laments, the pace slowly prodding before things engulf, and yes, the furious cries emerge. The playing crushes with might, gazey melodies influence the storm, and everything ends in a blur. “Rare Bird” has guitars gushing and the vocals flexing, the ambiance feeling cloudy and ashen, and then screams ignite and gut just as the melodies pick up again. Howls bellow before they’re met with more mechanical calls, the playing jarring and chugging into dust. “Jaded Mountain” opens in a synth haze, humidity expanding before bursting, acidic wails wrenching, the playing taking on a tornadic feel. The pressure then ruptures, hammers mauling relentlessly as a noise rings out into the distance. “Lemonade Stands” starts clean and dusty, Ingram’s howls registering and melding with clean singing, the guitars stretching into sun-washed terrain. The pace picks up and takes on a hardcore edge, Ingram cutting with, “With this life, there is hell to pay,” as the power drills once more.

“Dim Shepherd” runs nine minutes and slowly unfurls, creating an atmosphere as the playing buzzes. “I don’t recognize myself,” Ingram laments, that pain washing into heavier ground, leading to howls wrenching, the guitars warping, and a heavy bruising is added to your psyche. Guitars glisten as the energy expands, disappearing into a dream haze. “Pillow Talk” has mauling guitars and a full force vocally, raging through thunderous peaks and valleys. The pace gets more delicate, singing icing wounds, but the brutality isn’t far behind, clawing back and smashing the senses, melting into a synth cloud. “Dead Ringer” runs 9:42, and it pulls back on Ingram’s voice as his singing sounds more direct here, keys blipping as frost gathers on the edges, the pace gradually building to a boil. The howls mix with synth zaps and forestal energy, giving off a Cult of Luna vibe, and from there the power collects. Ingram’s barks stab as the playing continues its ascend, reaching for atmospheric glory and catching it, the drama sprawling harder. A muscular gasp lets fires breathe, and the final stretch punishes, disappearing into misty keys. Closer “Momma” is a gripping end as well as the first song these two completed together, and it digs in deep. Soft acoustics tangle with crashing waves, Ingram aching, “This is how I was made, against my will.” The feel remains mournful and quiet, Ingram singing, “Please don’t look for me, there’s nothing for me,” as the last strains wash out into the sea.

It’s great to have Ingram and his unmistakable voice back in our realms, and Idle Heirs let us see him and his expression in an entirely different manner. His collaboration with Barber on “Life Is Violence” hopefully is one that’ll bear fruit into the future as there is a lot of promise here and adds some new spices to the post-metal concoction. Add to that the examination of parental roles throughout generations, we get a richer, more human experience that surely can strike deep within anyone in the same shoes, no matter which role that might be. 

For more on the band, go here: https://idleheirs.bandcamp.com/album/life-is-violence

To buy the album, go here: https://www.relapse.com/collections/idle-heirs-life-is-violence

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

We live in an increasingly dangerous world, compounded by the fact that we let pesky old fascism back into the goddamn room, and now it’s getting its stink everywhere. Yes, we here in the States are dealing with a nauseating offering of the stuff, but that also has popped up many places worldwide. There’s another fight on our hands, and it’s disgusting this way of thinking, this authoritative rule has been allowed to breathe again.

German black metal force Verheerer are as sickened as anyone to battle this all over again, and on their great third record “Urgewalt” (translates to “primal violence”) lashes back at the forces with evil with devastation and scorn. The band—vocalist BST, guitarist SMN, bassist MYR, drummer KRZ—says the record is dedicated to those who have fought fascist rule through the decades and to those who keep grinding away to this day. It’s sad we even have to have records that are about this subject matter, but here we are. Obviously a record isn’t going to unseat a dictator, but its presence can light the fires in others’ hearts and minds so they refuse to let these monsters win or even live to see another day.    

“Intro” starts in the clutches of battle, war chaos spreading as guitars build and agitate, flowing into the title track that stirs and rips right off the bat. The vocals are a grim howl, a raspy attack that feels personal, while the playing ravages, melodies coating over the chorus. The leads take off as the earth quakes beneath, the playing boils, and the growls punish. “Hail Mary” dominates as the drums strike, the playing lathers, and howls tears into your flesh. “Hearts aflame, death is here!“ BST howls as fluid leads bubble to the surface, goddamn hand claps emerge (it’s not as out of place as you may think), and a melodic flood savages as a warbling dialog melts away. “Grabenwurm” blasts in with crushing drums, fluid riffs, and a channeled attack that compromises flesh. “We never truly live, we never truly dream,” BST laments as the guitars ignite and sweep, engulfed by a snarling end. “Totenvolk” storms in, the vocals flexing, a volcanic pace spreading dangerous amounts of ash. The storm mangles as the attack turns maniacal, the drums destroying as powered bones get sucked into your lungs.

“Lungs” is a drubbing beast, speedy and urgent, soot spread liberally, the guitars generating and enacting destructive forces. The leads heat up to throttling levels, carnage raining down, a vicious pace blasting away. “Stahlgrab” starts with growls scowling, mean and menacing playing drawing blood, the pressure mounting. Guitars hang before overflowing, the guitars tearing through flesh, grimness and speed joining forces and crushing chest cavities. “Arsonist” heats up as the yells belt, the guitars take on lava, and the scarring approach tries to squeeze the life from you. The melodies flood your head, even as the song sharpens the danger, swelling and racing as electricity spikes. The fiery yells are encountered by clean singing, everything combining and sinking into wooziness. Closer “Kriegstreiber” takes you by surprise as you’re greeted by piano notes dripping, static spitting, and then the carnage arriving. The playing gets animalistic and grinding, sweltering before a stampede arrives, the vocals scarring. The temperatures rise as singing swells, the guitars take on a blinding glow, and a gradual fade liquefies with piano chilling, the dialog spreading to the bitter end.

Verheerer’s metallic battle against tyranny and refusal to let our previous victories over oppression die, they practically make “Urgewalt” sound like a true-life battle cry. These nine tracks feel like the lifeblood of rebellion, the electrical jolt we need to stay out there and refuse to let the boots come down on our necks. A record isn’t going to save democracy, but it sure as fuck can be an elixir for our hearts and minds when we need another boost.

For more on the band, go here:

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://meteor-gem.com/

Or here (UK): https://ripcordrecords.limitedrun.com/categories/vendetta-records

Or here: https://vendettarecords.bigcartel.com/

For more on the label, go here: https://vendetta-records.com/

I already did a Mega Powers thing a while back about two major forces combining to create something larger than the both of them. But here we are as that still applies. True collaborative records can be eye-opening, ear-wrenching experiences when artists from different bands put their collective minds together and reveal something you might not have expected.

“Alluvion” combines Mizmor’s A.L.N. (guitars, vocals, drums) and Hell’s M.S.W. (guitars, vocals, bass) on a four-track beast that might not deviate terribly from their main projects but lets their talents and forces meld into a collection that allows their metallic personalities to breathe different air. Also, this is not the first two times these guys have worked together as they both were a member of sadly defunct Sorceress and also have shared the stage for separate Hell and Mizmor live performances. Together, the sounds they create won’t be a huge surprise, but they’ll wholly satisfy the urge to examine one’s own psyche and travel freely through the blackness. This record also, sadly, marks one of the last for Gilead Media, a label that has meant a lot to this site and the underground metal world as a whole, so it’s going to be sad (yet understandable) to see them go. 

“Begging to be Lost” opens slowly, flowing ominously and perilously before the gates break, and we’re swimming in sludgy doom and powerful shrieks. Noise sizzles as a battering tempo leaves ample bruising, the riffs entangling as the power simmers, slowing some but remaining potently heavy. Guitars chime as wordless calls hang like a storm cloud, rupturing anew and soaking the land in fury, howls and roars buckling, guitars lathering and pulling you with force toward the sky. “Vision I” opens in guitar steam and foggy visions, navigating through immersive drone, halting and letting the atmosphere breathe. Plucked guitars give off the sensation of solitude, while lonesome melodies flows, disappearing into mysterious openings.

“Pandemonium’s Throat” slowly emerges like an apparition from the mist, doom drubbing as a sooty balance smears its blackness. Shrieks belt as howls burn, strangling as guitars flow generously, blistering as the fury multiplies, screams battering as you’re dragged over craggy rocks. A sense of coldness sends chills as the cloud coverage thickens, clean playing melting and creating its own stream. “Vision II” closes the album, drone roiling as guitars chug amid ghostly cries, minimalist sounds merging with the oncoming pressure burst. The playing is slow and burly as guitars entrance with repetition, the drone returns and drives, and strange sounds encircle and consume all remaining energies.

Having the two creative minds behind Hell and Mizmor working as one again is as immersive and intoxicating as one might expect when taking on “Alluvion.” The heaviness is there both sonically and psychologically, and this collaborative piece is one that could push the right cathartic buttons and we navigate a world in hell (um, the bad version). The push and pull, the light and dark may force you to encounter the stress that’s squeezing your brain, but the end is a cathartic release, where you rediscover the tools inside you to continue living in defiance of madness.

For more on Hell, go here: https://loweryourhead.bandcamp.com/music

For more on Mizmor, go here: https://mizmor.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/collections/gilead-media-releases

For more on the label, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/

Death metal that tends to stick with me is the type that burrows into my brain and tries to alter me psychologically. It’s always fun to be thrashed and devastated sonically with the most wicked of the metallic arts. I’m always going to be into that. But having your mind warped along the way? That’s the stuff that transforms me and never lets go.

“Deific Mourning” is the latest from Decrepisy, a band that might give off some scents of Vastum’s psycho-sexual trauma, and that’s for good reason. Guitarist/bassist Kyle House used to play with that band, and for this record, he recruited Vastum frontman Dan Butler, whose voice and histrionics are unmistakable, as well as Leila Abdul-Rauf on synth and vocals. But that doesn’t mean it’s a carbon copy or anything of the sort. It’s just a similar ambiance that the band—rounded out by lead guitarist Jonny FOD Quintana, drummer Charles Koryn, and synth/noisescape artist Gabriel Lageson—conjures here. The power and creativity are their own as they ply you with mentally stirring, sometimes cosmic death that encircles and refuses to let go. It’s a big step up from debut “Emetic Communion,” itself a strong record, and it should be a huge jumping-off point for them to accumulate more acolytes. It also should be noted House suffered from a litany of physical ailments that prevented him from playing for long stretches of time, so this record even existing is a testament to his resilience.

“Ceremony of Unbelief” opens amid smearing guitars and a crunching pace, the heaviness battling with the strange psychosis abound. The playing actually has a demented feel, mashing as growls corrode, the leads explode, and detached speaking makes chills roll down your spine. The title track is frosty as the guitars chug, bizarre riffs burn your veins, and things bubble and add thickness. The playing shimmers and melts, the growls spread ash, and the playing starts thrashing harder, the leads burst with morbid colors, and a growl/speak mix sends this to the ground. “Dysautonomic Terror” has voices warbling as the guitars glide into sludge, charred brutality washing against borders, pummeling with full force. Ghostly calls bathe in the void of light, guitars mesmerize, and calculated driving sends everything to its breaking point.

“Spiritual Decay 1/4 Dead” has guitars angling as disarming speaking feels ghoulish, growls chewing into nerves, the thrashing piling onto the slab. The pace is slower but ungodly heavy, the guitars encircle and dizzy, and a brain fog takes you over mentally. “Severed Ephemerality” scrambles to life, pulverizing with their ferocity, growls choking you to the floor. Guitars go off and slam the gas pedal, crushing and suffocating, the vocals maiming with no mercy. “Corpseless” brings deranged speaking again, the grim, chilling tidings working their way into your brain. Guitars drip as psychosis liquifies, bruising as the growls decay, the spoken verses swirling in your mind, the steam finally fading. Closer “Afterhours,” a cover of the Sisters of Mercy song, emerges from the core of the earth, chugging as the voices warp, repetition driving madly, the humidity thickening in a hurry. The playing keeps thrusting, the blade boring into the earth, guitars hanging in the air and threatening, the terror moving into the darkness. Static fries as death drives deeper, slipping out into a medicine dream.

“Deific Mourning” is grim and chilling, a brutal form of aggression that delves into the darkest, most hopeless regions of existence. Decrepisy hammer with a morbid sense of violence that easily digs into your head and scratches in its messages forever. The fact the music was created as the grips of actual physical and mental anguish took their toll adds another level of misery that wrecks your soul forever.

For more on the band, go here: https://decrepisy.bandcamp.com/album/deific-mourning

To buy the album, go here: https://carbonizedrecords.merchtable.com/search?q=decrepisy%2F

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

There are a lot of reasons to be stressed the fuck out with the state of the world right now, and one of those aspects is the lack of control we have over the process. We’re watching inhumane decisions and unspeakable methods of cruelty being spread all over, and while it’s hard to try to stay positive with that lack of power permeating, one has to balance that over the dark.

Miami noise makers Bleeth return with “Marionette,” an aptly titled record in this era where it feels like so many of our leaders are puppets for more nefarious forces. Plus, there’s that lack of control and the battle internally with our light and dark sides that make navigating these shark-infested waters so frustrating. The band—vocalist/guitarist Lauren Palma, bassist/vocalist Ryan Rivas, drummer Juan Londoño—pours doom, grunge, noise, and plenty other heavy elements into this 10-track driver that batters you sonically but also keeps you engaged mentally so that you can absorb this energy and use it to keep yourself in the game in a meaningful way. It’s heavier and more urgent than their previous work, which will make your neck snap back at times. Plus, it’s infectious as fuck and a great candidate for repeat listens.

“False Memory” opens in doomy, grungy waters, riffs whipping as Rivas howls, “Go ahead and break it!” Drums blast as the guitars scuff, letting everything burn into oblivion. “Echoes of Doubt” has guitars flooding, Palma taking over vocals as she calls, “I’m scared of regret, I’m scared to be alone.” The playing continues to punch, self-doubt continuing to swirl as Palma wounders, “Am I making a mistake? Is it going to be bad?” before a battering end. “Medusa” has guitars tricking and smearing, your head spinning along with it, swimming in a pool of madness. Noise continues to collect, pushing your buttons as melodies melt in the sun. “Devils Advocate” is a puncher, feeling a little like Helmet, the playing wrestling you down as Rivas wails, “You take! You take! You take!” The playing drubs and hovers, and then the intensity pulls back a bit, the singing scathing as bluesy scraping settles, dripping away. “Break Free” bludgeons, Palma and Rivas combining voices, reminding a lot of Kylesa’s glory days. “I don’t get it, but I want it,” Palma heaves as burly bashing adds bruising, surging to a mangling end.

“Placebo” arrives on fire, Rivas’ barks landing hard, guitars blasting chrome as the humidity increases. Steely wails pierce as echoes digest the electricity, the noise slowly dissolving. “Pro Choice” is a force, Palma in total command vocally. There is a palpable anger and frustration woven in, the carnage rising as the battering continues. “This is all a show,” Palma howls, igniting newfound savagery and chaos that spits nails. “Snake Eyes” is immersive and cool, Palma’s voice leaving brush burns, the pace turning more toward volatile punk. “What kind of future are we building for the little ones born today?”  she calls, hammering home a sobering point dressed in acid. “Reflections” is an instrumental piece that swims in noise and cooling weather systems, the haze stinging as the bass strikes, culling feedback and cosmic mystery. Closer “Monarchs” arrives with guitar crunch and a sense of restraint as Palma’s voice floats, the guitars adding more fuzz as the rhythm stomps. Things get sludgier as the vocals pierce visions, the drums rumble, and everything blurs out forever.

“Marionette” arrives at a period of great upheaval that’s been going on for some time but really seems to be boiling over now. Bleeth’s power navigates the tension, anxiety, and manipulation we’re experiencing at ridiculous levels but always shines a light on more positive aspects of taking back some control and living in whatever form of comfort one can find. This is a battering, heartfelt, electric experience, and Bleeth are answering the bell with might that’s their own.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://seeingredrecords.8merch.us/
Or here (International): https://seeingredrecords.8merch.com/

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