Full of Hell smash millions of styles into EP that explores pain in ‘Broken Sword, Rotten Shield’

The world isn’t an easy place to live, and the thing is, it’s really our only option anywhere in the Milky Way, so we’re kind of just stuck here with other people. The emotions and events we experience aren’t always fruitful, and the ones that are damaging can leave a proverbial hole inside of us that may never heal.

Grind/death/electronic chameleons Full of Hull bring that reality to the forefront on their scorching new EP “Broken Sword, Rotten Shield,” albeit in a more fantasy, allegorical sense. It’s easy to feel the dread, grief, and longing on these songs, even as they blaze by you like a fireball. Also, while these seven songs last a combined 15 minutes, the band—vocalist/electronics Dylan Walker, guitarists Spencer Hazard and Gabe Solomon, bassist Sam DiGristine, drummer Dave Bland—manages to visit every musical terrain they’ve covered during the last decade into this compact package. It’s the perfect intro for a new listener, and an overflowing appetizer for those of us who have been here for a while.  

The title track opens, charging with violent urgency, shrieks raining down like ice daggers. A death fury engulfs, every element lighting up massively, sounds bending and ravaging. “From Dog’s Mouth, a Blessing” has a filthy rock and roll side, even when it’s grinding your face in concrete. The shouted gasps remind of Mike Paparo (Inter Arma), pelting as the track blasts away. “Corpselight” is over in a flash, and itbhas beats blaring, shrieks peeling paint, synth beams exploding from clouds. “Lament of All Things” brings smearing guitars and an attack that darts all over, never letting you catch your grip. The leads coat before lighting zaps through your veins, the band suddenly turning into a battering ram. “Mirrorhelm” is a nightmarish warp, sounds pulsating as hellish claws draw blood, a warbled voice making your muscles spasm. “Knight’s Oath” has guitars charging, a filthy vibe rattling cages, a catchiness injected into a killing machine. The leads kick up and take on a punk fuel, growls curdling as the playing pummels, caving in as the noise bleeds out. “To Ruin and the World’s Ending” concludes things, trudging through a slow-driving hellscape, the vocals menacing with beastly gore. The noise scrapes as the bass plods, screams melting steel beams, the intensity cresting and corroding.

“Broken Sword, Rotten Shield” is an encapsulation of what Full of Hell do so well, and whatever of their multiple personalities appeals to you the most, there’s something on here that’ll appeal to you. The fantasy and horror they jam pack into seven heaters destroys and warps your mind, which is par for the course for this band. This is a cool appetizer for whatever comes next, which could be any fucking thing in the world.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://closedcasketactivities.com/products/broken-sword-rotten-shield

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

PICK OF THE WEEK: Lust Hag blast back at hateful, grossly hostile society on ‘Irrevocably Drubbed’

The last three months have been motherfucking hell for anyone in this country who isn’t white or straight, and now that I think about it, has it ever really been a very welcoming place? The rage that’s bubbling under the skin of LGBTQIA+ people and those who support them is palpable, and it can’t be long until blood is shed for rights.

Eleanor Harper, the sole force behind black metal force Lust Hag, is lashing back on second full-length “Irrevocably Drubbed,” the follow-up to last year’s self-titled debut. A trans woman herself, Harper has witnessed and absorbed the hatred and oppression lobbied by what we call a president and the entire right wing, and even a lot of spineless Democrats have shied away from supporting people just trying to live as who they are. Harper uses this record as a means to express the torment of having to contend with political and societal forces aiming to hurt trans people and trying to contend with the hopelessness that has to permeate that thinking right now. So, yeah, this record burns your face off, it’s ugly, it’s raw, and it’s a much-needed ax handle to the ruling class.

The title track opens, and it wastes no time spreading carnage, stabbing and vile as guitars storm and Harper’s vocals feel like they were washed in acid first. Synth whirs to give a disorienting base, and the virulent pace continues to ravage without mercy. The pace grinds as it takes on soot, the drums damage, and the synth feels wondrous amid the ferocity. “Rancid Manipulations” has the guitars carving and the keys creating a noxious cloud, vicious howls digging deep into your muscle structure. Howls spatter as guitars swim into a demonic-style attack, battling to the last burst. “Righteous Deception” unloads, the screams flooding down the hill, delirious energy working with the thrashing force, fog encircling your mind.  The playing twists the knife even deeper, rampaging as the leads flow, smashing as screams smear and the final moments end in a blur. “Stifled Glare” chugs as the guitars gain momentum, later giving off mesmerizing, yet disarming vibes, creaky wails turning monstrous. Guitars dart as the fires rage harder, sending blinding heat and striking hammers looking for fresh victims. “Interlude” gives a breath of fresh air, scratchy ambiance and eerie synth interlocking with strange emotions.

“Feed the Mother Monolith” brings guitars stomping before their intensity rises and falls, growls clutch, and it feels like ashes are being inhaled into your lungs. The pace thickens and things get stormier and speedier, flattening and wrenching before thrashing away. “An Ever Looming Tree” opens with the drums dusting and growls poisoning veins, synth lines chilling as the drums pummel. Temps grow icier as the punishment doubles, and then Harper’s howls sicken as riffs crash down from the skies, devastating the earth. “Ravenous Feast” is mangling and vicious from the start, bringing gusting guitars that explode into the atmosphere, promising only fire in return. The growls turn ugly and deathlike as the music matches that spirit, stomps leveling skulls and guts. “Humiliation Ritual” is the 8:40-long closer, and it blasts immediately, going for broke as screams ripple, and transcendent melodies leave the windows fogged. The playing then becomes a battering ram, hulking through a haze, trudging as senses are smashed. Growls gut as the fiery charge envelopes, feeling raw and feral, keys lapping over and ending everything in a rumbling quake.

The rage and vengeance can be felt in every drop of “Irrevocably Drubbed,” a record that sounds like it was a bloodletting for Harper as she navigates an evil, fascist homeland in which we’re all thrust. If you get any sense she’s going down easily, you fucked up and listened to this record wrong. Her fury and hopelessness is clear and understandable, and while the music here is savage and fulfilling, it’s awful that the world in which we’re trapped forced her to create such musical violence. May debts be paid.   

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

To buy the album, go here: https://eleanorharper.bandcamp.com/album/irrevocably-drubbed

Or here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/album/irrevocably-drubbed

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

Mütterlein take aim at forces of oppression, torture with darkly lush, moody ‘Amidst the Flames…’

Oppression has been a part of humankind as long as we’ve been walking on two legs on the earth. It seems like only half the globe is even in support of equality and equity for all people, and the other portion can fuck off already. Trying to have control over others and stamping out what we don’t understand is sickeningly human. And it never stops.

Mütterlein is a project helmed by Marion Leclercq (formerly of Overmars), and on her third record “Amidst the Flames, May Our Organs Resound,” the battle against oppressive force ravages over these seven tracks. Leclercq especially focuses on what women have endured over the years, including the cruel experimentation done to them (she specifically cites Anachra Westcott whose story is a goddamn nightmare), and smears a strange cosmic sheen over her post-punk/black metal/electronic devastation. This is punishing, haunting, and menacingly dark, yet alluring enough to pull you into its grasp.

“Anarcha” starts with beats bouncing, offering a nighttime vibe, jabbing with spaciness and sweeping out and into “Concrete Black” that basks in an eerie haze before the drums awaken. Guitars rise as Leclercq’s howls tear into chest muscles, the pace stalking as the guitars stir. This song, like much of the record, feels like a storm hovering, the light elusive, frigid sounds meeting up with plastering drums and a dark aura basking in mournful melodies. “Wounded Grace” has drums driving, dark waves blanketing planets, throaty howls jolting and shaking you to life. The playing is scathing and hulking, the pace pumping while an icy sheen thickens, the momentum pulling and teasing. Immersive, regal synth unfurls as sounds warp, the chaos turning itself inside out. “Memorial One” quivers under penetrating sounds as beats pulse, and a misty push coats with glimmering light. Organs rise as Leclercq goes for clean singing, locking you into a dream cascading over the edge.  

“Division of Pain” rattles as the guitars scar, ravaging as the tensions rise. Howls and desperate singing mix gloriously, power swelling as robotic sounds bend your limbs, the drums re-emerging and teaming with charred guitars to push everything into ash. “Ivory Claws” has synth slithering, beats scuffing, and the singing reigning in the shadows. Keys chill and pulsate as the soundscape gains momentum, feral howls blowing back shrapnel. The aura feels scowling as words are spat like nails, the keys bubble, and you’re pulled deep into the underworld. “Memorial Two” ends the record by layering menacing sounds, ghostly calls, and buzzing heat that numbs. The singing sits in the atmosphere as phantom impulses send shivers, the beats spiral, and the light fades.

“Amidst the Flames, May Our Organs Resound” already is an arresting piece of work before the thematic elements surrounding this piece come to light. Leclercq’s drive to honor all who have been oppressed and, in turn, injured or killed based on that, is a dark, harrowing tribute that blackens skies both mentally and physically. It’s a protest and a genuflection, a place to remember those who paved the way through suffering and a call to arms to prevent activities like that from happening again. The war rages on, sadly.

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

To buy the album (North America), go here: https://debemurmorti.aisamerch.com/

Or here (Europe): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/

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

Finnish force Svarta Havet fire back at destructive forces on murky ‘Månen ska lysa din väg’

Photo by Viima Tuohimaa

The world feels so hopeless and poisonous sometimes, the people in control of the strings making it that way because money and power are all that matter to them. People we grossly outnumber have that control over us. And that’s spread through the world as capitalism grows greedier and thornier still, an enemy seemingly immune to defeat.

Finnish metallic hardcore bruisers Svarta Havet have the power structure in their sights on their thunderous second record “Månen ska lysa din väg.” They, too, feel the urge to lash back at colonialism, unchecked power, and the negative aspects on human and animals alike, but with a defiant surge to fight back against the cretins above us on the ladder. Over eight tracks and 37 minutes, the band—vocalist Lotta, guitarist Joakim, bassist Anders, drummer Jara—blasts through and makes a volcanic stand, the music feeling heavy as hell but also introspective. Oh, and I labeled them metallic hardcore, but they don’t sound like what the description might hint. They use elements of both and mix them into a darkened storm that aims to swallow whole these oppressive demons.

“Gom Dig” opens with guitars buzz and then a deluge of power, the shrieks ripping flesh from your bones. The playing is sudden and molten, the screaming belting as an atmospheric gush takes over, driving through heavy emotion and dripping keys. “Harlig Ar Jorden” lets the guitars build into a fervor, and then the howls bolt like a caged animal freed, the drums pummeling as thorny black metal-style melodies sweep into the picture. The guitars boil as the rising force destroys, everything fading into chaos. “Avgrunden” starts in a hazy pocket, guitars tracing as the vocals start to boil, crawling through raw, yet airy terrain. The drums detonate as the tension hammers forcefully, a beastly presence walking on all fours into the darkness. “Alla Sover” ignites right away, burying any chance at calm, the bass swaggering as the riffs set off higher temps. The energy bounds as the riffs give off heavy steam, the dreams maiming as a calculated pace crunches you, slowly slipping into smoke.

“Djur” has guitars churning and chewing, the pace smearing, and a battering mid-tempo pace leaving calculated bruising. The tempo picks up and widens, the vocals lashing with primal energy, vicious strength locking around your jaw. “Under Staden” is a speedy attack at first, a blinding pace that’s nasty and vicious. The screams squeeze with vice-like force as everything comes to a tornadic end. “Misstag” opens with the howls carving, spindly guitars stretching muscle, and then the temperature suddenly going cold. Speaking haunts as melodies trickle toward a huge gust, animalistic screams ravaging as the guitars tingle away. Closer “Ditt Rike” brings stirring guitars and an enthusiastic gust, the playing making your heart race deliriously. The playing dices your sanity, ripping into ferocious waters that thrash you about, the bass driving and chugging, and the final moments buzzing away and leaving you flattened.

It’s impossible to argue against the position that humanity is at a strange and volatile crossroads, as the power structures once again aim to bury us and refuse to let us know justice or prosperity. Svarta Havet are well aware of this struggle, and “Månen ska lysa din väg” addresses those harsh realities, leaving a sliver of room for light and positive change to alter our destinies. This is a record you feel through every cell, every brainwave, and its passion and drive should connect with anyone facing the same battle, hoping we all can prosper as people and not lose our minds to the oligarchies.

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

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

Or here (Europe): https://evilgreed.net/collections/prosthetic-records

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

Ominous Ruin’s technical power, furious brutality open up fresh wounds with crushing ‘Requiem’

Photo by Catalino (Kitty) Alvarez

Technical death metal, especially the brutal kind, never really lit a fire under me for some reason. Nothing against the form, it just never was one that got me excited, even if I could appreciate the prowess it took the play that brain-bending of a style. But I don’t toss it outright as I like to keep an open mind, and sometimes something just works for me.

“Requiem” is the second record from San Francisco-based crushers Ominous Ruin, and it is one that flattened me from the start. Their latest beast and first in four years certainly is creative as fuck, and never in ways where they disappear up their own assholes. It’s more about the song than the musical wizardry display. Over the course of nine mammoth tracks, the band—vocalist Crystal Rose, guitarists Alex Bacey and Joel Guernsey, bassist Mitch Yoesle, drummer Harley Blandford—generally gets in, makes a violent point, and gets out. They economically spend 40 minutes unleashing turmoil and destruction, putting you through a mental and physical meat grinder.

“Intro,” a nod to the end of their debut album “Amidst Voices That Echo in Stone,” is gentle and shimmering, keys dripping and inviting you warmly, giving no hint to the carnage ahead. That arrives on “Seeds of Entropy” that attacks right from the start, Rose’s inhuman growls peeling away, sometimes accompanied by manic shrieks (not unlike the late Trevor Strnad) while the band drills you with technical pyrotechnics and gutting heaviness. Rubbery bass wraps around your skull while the nastiness is amplified a million times before ending. “Eternal” delivers charred guitars and guttural growls, like right from the pit of the stomach, the tempo stabbing and twisting muscle, heading into a massive storm. The playing remains burly as guitars snarl and the vice tightens its grip, choking you out. “Bane of Syzygial Triality” is a brief, mystical instrumental with guitars soaring through your headspace, spilling into “Divergent Anomaly” that lands blows from the start. Growls maul as the playing gets increasingly aggressive, burrowing deep into your psyche. Deep growls and scathing guitars send flashes as a delirious, disorienting pathway robs you of your sanity and piles boulders on top of you.

“Fractal Abhorrence” dawns with synth spirals as things go calm as the bass swells, and then brutal howls tear through flesh. “It’s all a fucking joke!” Rose wails as the temperatures rise dangerously, making breathing and moving a chore. “Architect of Undoing” starts serenely before a gargantuan stomp, creative bursts sending colors flying, the growls smashing with an attacking agenda. The playing is so intense it’s almost carnival-like, tricking you into thinking this is mere playfulness when you can’t see the blade behind you. There are mystical turns as the keys play a bigger role, guitars tingle, and demonic growls spill acid on wounds. “Staring into the Abysm” has guitars flooding and the punishment welling, zany leads diverting your attention, darkened undertones rearing their head, fading, and bleeding away in clean melodies. Closer “Requiem” is vicious and fast, blinding as guitars dart, and raspy growls loosen bones from joints. The attack dizzies as the drama increases, feeling like your brains are spilling from your skull, destroying and speeding until you’re fully out of breath.

Ominous Ruin obviously are very accomplished players, and while this style isn’t one toward which I normally gravitate, “Requiem” is undeniable in its strength and chaotic energy. It’s a nine-track stormfront that locks on and refuses to let go, dragging you through neck-splitting twists and turns, leaving you gasping on the other side. This is a bruiser, one that shows musical tenacity but also a blood-pumping heart. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://willowtip.com/bands/details/ominous-ruin.aspx

For more on the label, go here: https://willowtip.com/home.aspx

PICK OF THE WEEK: Disfuneral jar with doom-scarred death that smothers on ‘In Horror, Reborn’

Horror and gore walk hand-in-bloody-hand with heavy metal and always have. It’s one of the main tenets of death metal, and it’s why a lot of people come to the genre. It’s not what first attracted me, but I’ve come to appreciate that aesthetic having grown up watching slasher flicks and digging further in the muck the last 30 years.

French death metal ghouls Disfuneral smear truckloads of doom into their sound as well, and on their second record “In Horror, Reborn” they slather that with plasma and guts in as smoldering a manner possible. But it’s not, like, a Cannibal Corpse thing. It’s more chilling and steeped in tradition as the band—vocalist Renaud Mann, guitarist Florian Brabant, bassist Clément Favre, drummer Yann Remy—levels with a gargantuan stomp that sticks in the earth. It’s a good time, and it steamrolls with a 75/25 mix of death and doom metal that drives hard and doesn’t relent until your face is buried in the dirt.

“Catacomb Dwellers” starts in a soot pile before super doomy guitars kick in, giving a vintage feel, but you know it’s about to get harrowing. The track tears open fully, crushing as howls maim, and snarling, yet catchy leads keep pushing further into the abyss, ending on a scorching note. “Tombs Vomiting the Dead” bathes in filth and tramples with reckless abandon, the growls sickening while the pace boils and gets noticeably faster. A driving force greets your ribcage while the tempo thrashes, ending in fire and ash. “Ripped From Within” is a mauler, working a little slower but with ample heaviness. Growls gurgle as the leads gain more heat, landing blows as the playing encircles and ravages you whole. “Crypt of Demented” has guitars snaking, coarse howls blistering, and the band pounding away, showing no mercy at all. The misery spreads as the pace hits the gas pedal, Mann’s wails torching as everything is charred, with only trace amounts of flesh remaining.

“Extremity in Morbidity” is gruff with muscular howls and a punk-ish drive, feeling catchy but also dangerous. Guitars scuff as the vocals bloody noses, spacious leads taking over and spilling into warped melodies. “Dark Ages Ritual” brings steamy, calculated fury, the growls drawing blood as the downtuned guitars show off swagger and sinew. The playing then bursts with life, dragging you through nightmarish tunnels and into awaiting damnation. “Blessed by Decay” is a faster one to start, throaty madness from Mann and a stomping pace feeling like they’re squashing guts. Guitars chug before blazing, scorching flesh and liquifying bone, a furious ending gust heading right into the title track. You have almost no time to breathe as the drums unload and the guitars consume whole, a hardcore vibe making its way into the mix, giving off an even tougher demeanor. Burly tones meet with doom that brings crippling humidity, coming to a ravaging end. Closer “Call From the Void” greets with the drums destroying, a fiery pace taking hold, and a storm that gains strength and slowly subsides, only to be resparked by the bass chewing through flesh. A doomy pall drags over you like an ashen blanket, the drumming gutting, and blistering wails sending their final stabs that jab away at your sanity.

Disfuneral’s doom-encrusted death sounds as vibrant and gory as ever on “In Horror, Reborn,” a record that promises horrors and delivers in spades. Each track has an urgency and ferocity that is impossible to avoid, with any of your listening sessions threatening to end with you noticeably less equipped to manage emotionally. This is a properly ferocious statement, one that demands blood and bone and does whatever it can to collect all of the tortured souls it can find.    

For more on the band, go here: https://disfuneral-fr.bandcamp.com

To buy the album, go here: https://redefiningdarkness.8merch.us/

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

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