Imagine doing something aggressive and violent, quitting one day, and then picking up that activity again 30 years later. What are the chances you will be anywhere near where you were in your prime years? Not very likely, but music is kind of a different sort of physical. Most bands aren’t fucking Deadguy.

Three full decades after releasing their debut (and until recently only) full-length record “Fixation on a Co-Worker,” they have returned to doing what they do best with “Near-Death Travel Services,” an absolute beast of an album that is worth the lengthy wait. It’s seriously as savage as how they sounded in the ’90s before their dissolution, as the band—vocalist Tim Singer, guitarists Chris “Crispy” Corvino and Keith Huckins, bassist Jimmy Baglino, drummer Dave Rosenberg—delivers absolute punishment. The acerbic wit remains intact, only with these guys having three decades of real-world life experience and parenthood under their belts, giving their rage a different focus. It’s a triumph of an album, and it beats your ass from front to back with the power of a band half their age.

“Kill Fee” tears open, Singer howling, “We are the freaks, and we dare to believe there’s a place for us in this world.” Like 10 seconds in, and we’re already flattened. The playing chugs and smashes with a ferocity they apparently never lost, smoking and battering to the end. “Barn Burner” changes things up a bit, but it’s still nasty, thrashing as Singer commands, “I don’t hate you, I just feel better when you’re not around.” The verses blaze by, giving off humidity and steam, Singer later jabbing, “I’ve been thinking that I’ve been drinking too much of my own Kool Aid,” as noise scrapes out. “New Best Friend” has the drums driving, the guitars encircling, battering with a blinding force. Yelled vocals bruise as metallic riffs cut through steel, adding pressure to a mangling finish. “Cheap Trick” attacks, the verses mauling, a breakdown swelling and feeling like you’re about to be trampled alive. “Are we sober? Are we clean? Are we just stuck?” Singer posits as the final moments leave their marks. “The Forever People” is throaty and fast, Singer’s rants smashing with the chaos, the playing going uncorked. “We’re selling tickets to the end of time,” Singer wails, tongue deep in cheek, as the wrenching power goes to work, hammering artificial barriers. 

“War With Strangers” has the bass trucking, riffs rupturing, and a more slow-driving pace pushing your face into the dirt. Again, Singer is the unhinged narrator, yelling, “But this is not my war, feels like we’re being manipulated.” Guitars take off, injecting more ferocity into the mix, swaggering and powering off. “Knife Sharpener” waylays, howls smashing, guitars tangling, and a violent pace destroying as the thing goes by in a flash. “The Alarmist” has guitars strangling, Singer charging, “Don’t want to be this again, that’s my own blood I’ve been hiding, that’s my own blood that I’m denying.” The pace halts as guitars tease, eventually attacking again and sending everything spiraling and burning away into dust. “The Long Search for Perfect Timing” starts ominously, dark riffs crawling, a dizzying display that plays games with your psyche. The vocals hammer as the leads drip and snarl, choking you with the fumes from a tire fire. “All Stick & No Carrot” wastes little time getting going, the vocals pasting, sounds smearing and adding a level of purposeful confusion. “Do you think there’s a winner? Do you think it’s you?” Singer questions, the playing tangling and melting away. Closer “Wax Princess” is fast and sudden, Singer howling, “They build you a cage and they call it a kingdom, they step on your neck and call it freedom.” The pace blackens and contorts, wrestling you to the ground, punishing as a detached computer voice blurs its reality with ours, bleeding out, back in, and into the void forever.

Deadguy’s return is long overdue, and “Near-Death Travel Services” not only is a breath of fresh air in the middle of a hellacious 2025, but it also offers a metallic fist forward. Yes, these guys are returning to more bad societal and political times like they faced during their initial run, and while their perspectives as people may have changed, the enemy really hasn’t. This a fucking bulldozer of a record, an album that not only declares Deadguy has returned but torches every fiber of your being from first second to the last. 

For more on the band, go here: https://deadguy666.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://www.relapse.com/pages/deadguy-near-death-travel-services

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

Death chases and haunts us from the time we are made aware of its presence until the day it finally gets us, and it is the product of too many levels of anxiety to even count. It’s the dark phantom a step behind us in case we make a fatal mistake or our bodies give out. It can’t be escaped, and it can’t be denied.

Polish black metal duo Thanatorean (vocalist E, multi-instrumentalist KM) dive deeply into that fear and madness on their debut full-length “Ekstasis of Subterranean Currents,” a nine-track journey into the mysterious void. The band drapes majesty and darkness over nearly 38 minutes of chaos that feels like it is pulling you into the unknowable mystery of our demises and what may lie after, if anything at all. It’s a chilling experience that eats away at you, just like your own nightmares pulling you into the caverns of death. 

“The Descent” starts with sounds boiling and rippling, and then everything opens into ominous black metal, the sooty screams buried in the dirt, the leads going off and electrifying. The mood gets cavernous as power hangs like a storm cloud, stomping off into oblivion. “With Tongues of the Underworld” detonates with relentless energy and wild howls, melodic charges jolting your spine, smoke rising and choking. The pace charges into charred terrain, the growls pummel, and everything ends in dire fury. “Thrice-Hexed” has the vocals punishing, guitars sweltering, the ghoulish force in full command. The sounds slowly melt into a mind-altering syrup, singing bellowing before an infernal push, guitars tangling and vibrating. “Tranquil Trueness of End” opens with charging guitars, growls mashing, and the humidity rising, making breathing difficult. Haunting speaking echoes as they turn into menacing howls, the guitars mystifying and generating steam.

“De Profundis” is doomy and cloudy, blasts suddenly ripping through its midsection, the guitars creating a hallucinatory fog. That weirdness spills into a sudden eruption, dashing as the final fires gasp. “To Abyss Sacrosanct” dawns with bass layering, smashing as deeper growls lurch, clean warbling turning into a nightmarish void. Guitars glimmer and trick your mind, the pace hammering once more before disappearing. “In Reverent Throes” attacks, sooty growls slinking, the force penetrating your cells and changing their structure. The heat encircles, led by the guitars generating a force, the riffs the only thing surviving the icy end. “Bound Beneath and Beyond” brings a steady tempo, guitars defacing, blending into a bizarre chasm that melts your inhibitions. The force becomes overwhelming, stretching and repeating, the sweat coating your face. The closing title track pulls you into the center of hypnosis, the guitars bleeding colors, howls erupting and mangling your mental faculties. Growls retch as a spindly pace unloads like a savage weather front, ferocity spinning off into hell.

“Ekstasis of Subterranean Currents” is an unsettling experience both musically and thematically as we are forced to stare death in the eyes and accept our fates. The playing is immersive and chilling, and they capture the anxiety and terror surrounding the very idea of our demise. This is a black tunnel with no end, music here to defy comfort and head directly into the void.

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

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

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

For more on the label, go here: https://i-voidhangerrecords.bandcamp.com/

Well, time to sound like an asshole again, so here goes: Very few bands manage to do thrash metal right, the way it sounded in its 1980s heyday, and a lot of that is because you can’t just pick up an old album and capture the essence. But it can be done on rare occasion, and it’s glorious when all the buttons are mashed just right.

Ready for Death are back with record no. 2, that being “Pay With Your Face,” and this 12-track beast really nails the punk-fueled, politically minded, smashing madness from an era that never can be repeated. The attitude is here as is the brutality and the sense of humor as the band—vocalist Artie White, guitarist Dallas Thomas (formerly of Pelican), bassist/synth player Luca Cimarusti, drummer Shawn Brewer—tears through these 34 minutes, wasting no time at all and maximizing every second. Yeah, it reflects on morbid times, but it’s also a blast to hear, and these guys would not be out of place on a bill sandwiched between Exodus and Anthrax. 

“Spacebreeders” rips open with drums echoing and guitars raining down, howls trudging over you like a reckless machine. Guitars spiral as the humidity ticks up, blistering with meaty pounding. The title track is a fast one, attacking with speed, hammering vocals, and a smeary assault that wrecks skeletons. “Cannibal Cops” is ridiculous on the surface, but pleasingly so, and digging into the track, they’re fucking going for it. Gang shouts of the simple chorus rampage as guitars rule, the vocals wrench, and the stirring chaos envelopes. “Motherfucker, it’s the cannibal cops,” White warns, torching to the end. “God Send the Asteroid”  is an understandable title considering where we are, and it’s a punk-fueled blast, complete with catchy guitars, hardcore-style brute force, and animalistic devastation. “Going to the afterlife!” sounds like a charge delivered tongue in cheek as the heat finally subsides, the guitars melting away. “Doomsday Everyday” is another quick blast, the group shouts of the title rampaging your spine, brutality leaking out of each crevice, a scalding soloing giving one more violent shove. “The Harvest” chugs as the temperatures rise, and then things fully fire up, metallic riffs pulling walls down. “You’re running for your life,” White howls repeatedly, the pressure building before a scorching end.

“Digital Witch” begins with weird noise chicanery and doomy riffs, and then it’s onto a full beating, guitars teasing and mashing before burning away. “Lawbreaker” has menacing guitars and screams curdling, a beating administered as the guitars begin to flex. The heat becomes insurmountable as the back end of the track stomps guts, the guitars blaze anew, and an explosive gust brings an abrupt end. “Project T.A.R.A.N.T.U.L.A.” lumbers, the drums thundering, the guitars picking up the pace and twisting muscle. The title is howled over and over (well, at least the  T.A.R.A.N.T.U.L.A. part is), lodging itself in your brain as the playing soars, and thrashy madness consumes. “Sewage of the Divine” destroys, guitars churning, sinewy playing leaving bruises. Guitars agitate melodically as the thrashiness multiplies dangerously, lighting up one more time before fading. “Utopia of War” has the bass driving and a more atmospheric aura backing the punishment. Slashing colors play tricks with your brain as relentless howls of, “You suffer!” run into ravaging drums and intense melody. Closer “Rat Chaser” begins with drums rupturing, savage power exploding, and a swarming, suffocating attack. “Chase rats!” is yelped over the chorus as the playing levels, guitars slink, and a strange cosmic vibe disintegrates.

Ready for Death bring a refreshing edge to a reality that is really not the best on “Pay With Your Face.” It also returns to a time when thrash metal often sounded fun and furious but also packed harrowing messages that strangely still resonate today. If it’s all over for us, there’s nothing we really can do than watch the ruling class burn everything to the ground, and this music will go a long way toward soundtracking that insanity.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://translationloss.com/collections/ready-for-death

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

Times are chaotic right now, as bad as they’ve probably been in my lifetime, or at least in my adulthood, and it seems silly to split hairs with art on the surface, but it’s actually pretty crucial. Do you want to put your money in the pocket of some fascist asshole who’s OK with all of this? If your answer is yes, please get the fuck out of here.

LA-based one-man black metal power Tumultuous Ruin has been one of the reliable ones the last few years as our world has grown more toxic, and his unflinching opposition to fascism and oppression is noteworthy and honorable. If you’re new to the band helmed by RH, his new EP “Never a Night So Dark” (the title is lifted from a John Brown quote) is the perfect entrance point. These four songs are culled from tracks he created for benefit releases so they all can live in a single home, and there’s an interesting cover thrown into the mix. The band’s style of black metal leans on the raw, untamed side, and this is a nice sampling to hopefully entice more folks to get into an artist whose heart is in the right place and can properly destroy.

“Undead Corpse of Empire” drills open, sooty growls clogging veins, screams by guest vocalist Stone Crow rippling down spines. The riffs lather as the battering ram gets meaner, the chorus rushing over bloody ground, melodies enrapturing, and some final shrieks jarring your senses. “Toward Their Chains” starts in clean eeriness, a slow-driving pace making you sustain every blow, mournful melodies dripping into a lapse of time. The playing goes cold as the sound surrounds your psyche, a quote from “Fellowship of the Ring” where Aragon laments, “It’s long since we had any hope,” making for a sobering message in these times. The playing continues to flood into time, blazing once more before coming to a rest. “Climate Chaos Manifest” ravages, a blistering force ripping at you, a brief gasp of calm lingering before incineration. A hammering force emerges and chews through rock, rushing and rampaging, a melodic black metal wave enveloping, leaving the carnage sizzling in gazey fervor. “Smothered Hope” is a cover of the Skinny Puppy track from 1984’s “Remission,” and it’s a properly blackened, even more sinister version of the bouncy, creaky original. It’s melodic and thornier, with RH doing a fine job translating Nivek Ogre’s strangulating voice but with his own dark flourish that makes it more sinister.

This compilation EP gives a nice glimpse of what Tumultuous Ruin do so well, and these four tracks pack enough punishment and righteous indignation to get a newcomer started on a really strong back catalog. The fact the band carries the banner for battling fascism and often has their work benefitting noble causes is another reason to toss some money their way as you know it won’t be funding assholes. This is a nice appetizer for whatever comes next for this band as well as a quick foray into Tumultuous Ruin, which always is worth your time and damage to your hearing.   

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

To buy the album, go here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/merch

Or here: https://tumultuousruin.bandcamp.com/album/never-a-night-so-dark-ep

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

As you get older, the idea of your own demise comes a little closer in the front view than most might find comfortable. That’s if you live a long life into old age. But that shit can come for you at any time, any place, any situation, and dealing with a brush with death or someone else’s is enough to wreak havoc on your own mentality.

Canadian black metal force Witherer pack all of that trauma and catharsis into “Shadow Without a Horizon,” their debut full-length. The band itself—Tiamoath (vocals, guitars, bass, songwriting, keyboards, bells),  Øhrracle (vocals, guitars), Hex Visceræ (drums)—experienced health issues and too-close-for-comfort scrapes with death, and that’s packed into these five tracks and 53 minutes of torment. Black metal remains their base, but there is a lot of slow-burning doom cooked into this thing, and if you feel like the music is making you dizzy and disoriented, you’re not alone. This is punishing mentally and physically, an album that sees its horrors to the end.

“Fiat Umbra (Burial Beneath the Stalactites)” opens basking in darkness, a long introspection melting into warped heat, growls mauling as the guitars boil. Feral calls rip as the vibe grows weird and trudging, calls marring as doom elements grow thicker and stickier, whispers confounding before eeriness peaks, psychosis melting as spiraling playing stabs the senses. Guitars flex again, the growls corrode, and bizarre power blurs before fading. “Devourer of All Graveyards” attacks, howls snarling, guitars angling and cutting into your muscles. Smoke rises as the tempo slows, remaining just as heavy but slightly tricky. Guest vocalist M. Adem lends her pipes by adding wordless calls, and then clean singing bellows, growls smear, and an ugly, deranged assault spirals and stings before disappearing into dust. “The Wailing Hours (Plummeting Under the Tunnels)” is an instrumental with sounds hovering, dank guitars echoing, and the feeling of being stuck in a basement isolating you.

“Solar Collapse Mandala” has cries pulling at flesh and a hammering pace, guitars gripping as the growls crush, the playing veering toward hypnosis. It feels like a drug haze dream as the pressure turns into strange colors, the momentum mounts, and the delirious melodies pin you to the earth. Guitars bloody as a final gasp attacks, trucking and sprawling to the end. Closer “Praises (Gliding Through the Lightless Sea)” is the longest track, running 15:30, and the echoey slurriness permeates, howls doing damage, the bass slinking into the unknown. Growls sicken as the mesmerizing playing angles toward chaos, the heat rising as the band slowly batters, the bass again flexing hard. The vocals gurgle as the guitars melt, going off into sooty tension, mixing into a mystical soundscape. A last detonation arrives, bringing animalistic damage, sounds whirring, and the last strains of words mixing into echoes.

Brushes with one’s demise obviously can make a significant impact on you mentally, and that reality is all over “Shadow Without a Horizon,” one hell of a weighty debut record for Witherer. These are universal themes, and while it might not always (or ever) feel good to face these forces, they cannot be avoided, so confronting them can build strength. This album doesn’t exactly go down easily, nor was it intended to, and each experience with these five songs can leave anyone bruised, vulnerable, band, perhaps, enlightened. 

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

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

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

I have a real issue with downtime in that I have no idea what to do with myself when I have too much time on my hands. ADHD doesn’t help matters, and I can get restless in a hurry. I think if I played an instrument or had some kind of creative outlet other than this one, I could manage. Yet here I am, struggling.

Carl Skildum, who you know from projects such as Inexorum, Majesties, and Antiverse, luckily has his musical talent and a practical arsenal of riffs to keep him going, and his new project Skjolden is a product of him keeping himself engaged in between bands. Luckily for us, “Insouciant Metaphysical Grandeur” is a hell of a ride, one Skildum will painstakingly point out is not slick or polished, a result of his own true solo work, yet that layer of dirt and grime adds more charm to these black metal beasts. The project itself takes its name from the village in Norway from which his ancestors left to come to America. Immigration officials could not spell or pronounce the village, and they mistook it for their last name, so it got changed to Skildum. Pretty cool background for this thunderous work!

“In Resplendent Obscurity” unfurls with melodic riffs, the rhythm section rumbling, and howls rippling through the murky void. The vibe is catchy as hell as synth rises behind the chaos, guitars sprint, and a fiery force combines with speed and swelling keys to obscure your mind. “The Fever Swamp of Magickal Thought” has riffs tearing and exploring, furious howls belting flesh, and a chorus that sinks in and makes your blood flow. The energetic burst continues as a colorful assault dashes reds and oranges across the sky, lurching into a mystical haze. “Insouciant Metaphysical Grandeur” is punchy and melodic, growls doing damage, a guitar flurry picking you up and transporting you elsewhere. A brief respite is cut into by vibrant keys and a cosmic push that pushes your imagination into the stars.

“Keeper of the Silent Heart” has guitars fluttering, howls menacing, and a fluid attack mixing into a synth sprawl that feels majestic. The playing turns burly and furious, guitars tangling amid growls that bruise eye sockets, blazing to a massive finish. “While Dying” has guitars spilling and incinerating, the howls reaching into the clouds, keys zapping as the smoke keeps rising. Guitars set the horizon ablaze as total fury is meted out, feeling like its reach wraps around the world. “Can’t Kill My Love” is driving with ashen growls, the pace crumbling, melodies acting like laser beams through thick clouds. The pace sprints and meets up with cool keys, glazing as your wounds congeal, a delirious finish shaking your brain loose. Closer “Narthex Terminus” brings guitars lighting up from the start, howls smearing, a jarring, pummeling push compromising your balance. The vocals wrench as guitars lather, gushing and moving toward extinguishing a massive fire that’s been raging from the start, a final cascade of keys acting as a cooling agent.

“Insouciant Metaphysical Grandeur” may be raw and rough around the edges, but it’s a dynamic piece of work, something that should grab onto most devourers of black metal and give them something to get their juices flowing. Skjolden may be Skildum’s downtime project, but this record holds a lot more potential beyond that, proving again this dude never runs out of ideas. This is a really fun record, a nice nod to Skildum’s roots (both musical and familial), and a barnstormer that gets more infectious with each listen.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://skjolden.bandcamp.com/album/insouciant-metaphysical-grandeur

I know. You have no idea why you’re being served political ads on your social media platforms that vehemently disagree with you. You block them and more appear. You can’t seem to get ahead of this no matter what you do, and after a while, you realize all you’re doing is trying to make corrections to something unfixable. You’re stuck here.

“An Insatiable Violence” is the new record from long-running technical death metal power Cryptopsy, and these eight songs and their theme are like glimpses into our psyche. Vocalist Matt McGachy got the idea of a story where each day a person wakes up and tries to fix a machine, only to find torture and frustration at every corner. It consumes this person, yet every day, they return. The algorithmic cages that capture us is a clear example of this, and it’s enough to upend on our lives. The rest of the band—guitarist Christian Donaldson, bassist Oli Pinard, drummer/backing vocalist Flo Mounier—adds insane precision, speed, and savagery to these songs, making it one of their most bloodthirsty yet. Nine records in, this band shows no slowing, no mercy, and no solace as the cycles in which we’re trapped repeat until we die or we finally give up the machine.

“The Nimis Adoration” immediately tears the lid off the thing, and from this point, there’s nary a moment to breathe on this thing. It’s maniacal and it ravages, and you expect that, and they deliver. McGachy’s penchant for toggling between shriek and growl remains impeccable, and swampy, brutal power brings this to an end. “Until There’s Nothing Left” pulverizes, screams maiming, the pounding feeling like it’s inside your brain. Bass reverberates as the pace thrashes, the soloing melting the bones in your meat suit, crushing fury ramping up and spilling over the sides. “Dead Eyes Replete” unleashes hell, punishing as the vocals smear, aggravating a monstrous response that turns into a full-on attack. The screws tighten as the screams destroy, and the final moments nail you to the floor. “Fools Last Acclaim” has the drums decimating, snarling power crawling, and the growls squashing bowels. The insanity manages to come even more unglued, the ferocity reaching dangerous levels, guitars spiraling and smoking, everything ending abruptly.

“The Art of Emptiness” is spacious as it dawns, letting fog encircle McGachy’s doomed speaking, a calculated pace threatening to blow. And it does as flesh is fed to the gears, growls twisting and wrenching, mashing as guitars lather. The viciousness continues to flood over, slipping into strange noises and right into “Our Great Deception” that also has some newer colors. The guitars trickle and even tease jazziness, and then everything gushes to life, charring and charging, feeling mostly unhinged. Leads soar and glisten and even give off a power metal shine, the zaniness multiplies and tramples, and all-around loopiness makes for a dizzying finish. “Embrace the Nihility” starts hypnotically, eventually blistering and trudging, growls boiling as the guitars slash. The pace fully engulfs as crazed screams cut into thick streams of melody, and the darting chaos ends in madness. Closer “Malicious Needs” utterly destroys, the drumming making powder from bones, sinewy leads disturbing brain functions. Vicious growls go for the throat as gargantuan punishment is force fed, and then things unexpectedly cool, blurring like obscuring clouds, fading into a fog.

“An Insatiable Violence” certainly is a grind, and a powerful one, and its commentary on how we continually find new ways to torture ourselves mentally is heard loud and clear. This is one of the most savage records in Cryptopsy’s storied catalog, and after logging three decades as a band, they still manage to find more than enough ways to remain violent but also thought provoking. This is a battering ram that knows no quit, and if you’re somehow unprepared for this, get ready to be consumed body and mind by this machine.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://orcd.co/cryptopsyaninsatiableviolence

For more on the label, go here: https://www.season-of-mist.com/

There’s a certain style of heavy metal, a very particular formula that, at the risk of sounding like an asshole, is something I’m not sure can be understood fully by someone born past a certain year. It’s the sound of metal in its younger years when it was figuring itself and delivering some of the most extreme sounds of that time, and living at the time of that genesis makes this have more impact.

Helms Deep deliver the tried-and-true essence of early 1980s metal, and their admitted inspiration cited from Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, and the criminally underrated Riot. It sounds like they create their music in the same room as the masters in their prime, and that’s heavily apparent on their second record “Chasing the Dragon.” The brainchild of vocalist/guitarist Alex Sciortino is a dynamic, fast, exciting throwback that is lucky to also have a major figure from metal’s early years on bassist John Gallagher, of the legendary Raven. Along with guitarist Ray DeTone (Paul Di’Anno’s Killers) and drummer Hal Aponte (Ice Age), the band delivers the goods over and over on this 11-track, 58-minute brawler that gets the juices flowing, the spiked wristbands locked on tight. Helms Deep also is joined by guest musicians Liang Wu (erhu) and Cliff Hackford (tabla) to add some mystique and different textures to this killer.

“Wing Chun” is a mystical, Far East-inspired instrumental opening, leading into barnstormer “Black Sefirot” that just flattens. True vintage heavy metal is achieved, the bass rumbling, a great, simple chorus soaring, and leads that scream Priest. Guitars burst, the chorus blasts back, and everything ends in a blaze of glory. The title track glows brightly, the singing driving, great energy surging through veins. Twin leads blind, and another easy chorus follows. The quick “recite the title” chorus works well for them, but it does bite them in the ass a little bit on this record. The pace keeps jolting, ending in fire. “Craze of the Vampire” begins like early ’80s Maiden, deep singing transitioning to banshee wails, the chorus wonderfully reeking of Deep Purple. The leads layer and continue to build a classic foundation, the bass swaggers, and some prog flourishes blend into warmth and speed served generously together. “Cursed” packs in riffs that feel born of steel four decades ago, the vocals ripping, the power sprawling. The pace is chugging and punchy, the guitars taking on thick humidity, the chorus tearing back, the temperatures rising dangerously. “Flight of the Harpy” has riffs firing, punchy singing, and the title wailed over the chorus. The tempo gallops and toughens up, tearing into fantastical melodies, blasting out with intensity.

“Frozen Solid” charges as the riffs snarl, high-pitched singing sending jolts down your spine, another simple chorus leading the way. The vocals turn in near-glass-shattering highs, the massive tempos rushing toward you, the playing ravaging to the end. “Necessary Evil” starts with deeper singing, the colors coming in a little darker, another basic chorus riding, though in this case it kind of doesn’t work for the song. But the passion is there, soloing blasting, the singing feeling raspier in spots, a knifing pace shaking the ground. “Red Planet” feels cosmic and spacious when it opens, chugging and swimming in the murk, a much different style of chorus adding new colors. Guitars sprawl as a strong progressive flame burns, warmth builds and ruptures, and a noise filter clouds your ears, drifting off into space. “Seventh Circle” is thrashy with the singing burning, another easy chorus flowing, not having the spark it really needs. The soloing floods, though, the playing lathering, the drumming pounding away into the night. Closer “Shiva’s Wrath” is an epic instrumental, starting with acoustics and erhu, slowly opening into progressive lava. The guitars incinerate and show their strength, and then the path flows into dreamier terrain, eventually going dark. The bass bubbles as the guitars overtake, blending into gentler sounds and delicate table drumming that bleed into time.

Helms Deep continue to deepen their roots in classic heavy metal on “Chasing the Dragon,” a record that should fan the flames of anyone’s heart. While I think this would be sharper and more effective minus a couple of tracks, it’s a keeper nonetheless, something that can torch your mind and body repeatedly. For someone who remembers the era from which they draw, it’s like coming home. For anyone who arrived later on, it’s a sterling sharp lesson of where this genre came from and how it never will die.

For more on the band, go here: https://helmsdeep666.bandcamp.com/album/chasing-the-dragon

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

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

We, as human beings, have not been kind to nature, and as we watch more and more governmental regimes peel away the precious land and resources, you can’t help but wonder how long it’ll be before the planet has had enough of us. We’re lucky to still have people fighting and returning to the natural world to send up praise and absorb every drop of it until their souls.

Olympia, Wash., black metal power Returning fall firmly into the latter, and on their great second record “Numinous,” they unload three epic journeys on a record that feels like your center point is reestablishing its ties to the earth. Comprised of Thuja and Heron, whose roles are not explicitly defined, they spend 46 minutes exploding with Cascadian power and also rootsy folk that colors the edges. You can feel every twist and turn, each dive into the valley and back, and it should light a fire in your belly if you’re like minded. Or perhaps it’ll help you find that spark. Finding a home on Bindrune Recordings, that platforms like-minded artists such as Panopticon, Blood of the Black Owl, Alda, Nechochwen and others, makes this a perfect alliance where the band has found welcome ground.

“Sacred Decay” opens immersed in atmosphere, the singing wafting as guitars drift, shrieks then knifing in as the pace combusts. A fury is whipped into a frenzy, howls calling, “Smoke rises skyward, a symbol of ruin,” as the ignition continues to get hotter. The playing settles into a percussive pocket, letting your blood flow, as the weight becomes oppressive and immersive at the same time. Gazey and soaring playing unite, and the call of, “Death will lead us to new life,” ripples down spines. “Ancestral Shadow Portal” is a quieter, more mid-paced piece that feels like a spiritual experience. Tribal-style drumming rouses as prayer-like passages wash over you, asking for guidance for new life that enters the earth. Wordless calls rattle as acoustics wash over and leave tremors, progressive playing jolts, and cymbals crash into our finale.

“Offerings to the Great Circle” runs 19:18, the longest of these three lengthy pieces, and it rushes in, howls already scarring, blistering before a wave of calm enters, and this push and pull is something we keep revisiting. The guitars blaze as clean singing bellows, rustic melodies flowing into the mix, melodies flooding as the playing growls, hulking and devastating, later melting into elegant power. “I am your forever,” calls into your psyche, and a massive deluge strikes, screams rip, and the guitars hit a volcanic high before washing into dreaminess. From there, sounds rise and fade, and it feels like you’re roused from a deep, cathartic dream, birds chirping to greet you into this updated consciousness.

Returning lure us into a deeper awareness of nature and spirituality on “Numinous,” and over the course of these three songs, it’s very easy to be drawn into the center of this effort. The band’s woodsy black metal and rustic folk flourishes are genuine and eschew the subgenre’s normal tropes for something more human, more compassionate. This is a record that arrives perfectly in time for the dawn of summer when spending time amid green grass and lush trees can reconnect us to a world humanity long has betrayed. 

For more on the band, go here: https://returning.earth/

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.bindrunerecordings.com/products/returning-numinous-lp-pre-order

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

It’s easy to think we’re slipping into a Orwellian nightmare no matter where on the globe you live. Living here in the United States, watching a tyrannical government run roughshod over its people is disgusting, and if this unraveling continues, generations from now, people could be living in a nightmare we only imagined in stories and movies.

Newly born gothic doom band Lights of Vimana have utopian societies in mind and the hopelessness and darkness that choke their centers on debut record “Neopolis.” The five tracks on this record, created by three artists spread across the world, captures the bleakness and dreary future of societies eroded to the ground by fascist governments. On this album, the band—vocalist Déhà (he of about 10 million bands), guitarist/bassist Jeremy Lewis (Mesmur), drummers/keyboardist Riccardo Conforti (Void of Silence)—sinks into elegant, yet morbidly dark doom, feeling like you’re swimming in ink. It lures you in and bathes your mind in grays and rain-splashed nights, wondering if you’ll ever escape reality.

“Nowhere” runs 14:10, buzzing in as synth beams, and Déhà’s rich singing sends a cooling vibe. The playing darkens as things gets gustier and bask in shadows, guitars opening and charring, the keys giving off an alien feel. Guitars heat up and flood as growls and singing intertwine, and then a gust of fog compromises your vision, the vortex pulling you into deeper hues. Melodies flow as a cosmic dusting hardens the surface, the guitars tingle, and then a last bit of crunch disappears into gothy air. “Endure” enters in a stormfront, proggy guitars cutting into electricity, singing and growling doing battle as dreamy immersion takes over. That sense of ease doesn’t last as the guitars hulk up, crushing as synth beams bathe you, lead lines lathering with added oxygen. The light and dark vocals again do battle as keys cascade, and everything crashes out. 

“Real” starts clean and eerie, the playing stomping through mud as deep, amber singing coats, and the temperatures suddenly turn frostier. The power bursts through the ice as lurching cosmic doom takes hold, guitars soar, and emotions run high. The singing feels ripped from Déhà’s heart as the foundation slowly crumbles, fades into blinding light, and flows toward the title track that is a fever-inducing, nighttime instrumental. Synth darts as the guitars send cool waves, plinking through an enveloping haze. It feels like moonlight illuminating your path as melodies bubble and sounds buzz into closer “Remember Me.” Regal synth pumps as the playing gets burlier, the signing taking to the sky before being upended by guttural growls. Guitars charge as sounds trumpet, electronic pulses sending signals to your brain, blowing open with a sooty crunch. The vocals push to the limits as the guitars dig their claws deeper, and a spirited rush spikes adrenaline before dissolving into the earth.

As we fall deeper into our own dystopian reality, music like what Lights of Vimana put on display with “Neopolis” might be called upon to soothe nerves as we watch horrors unfold. It’s a strange soundtrack to a reality no one really wanted, yet here we are, taking on that doom-encrusted reality full force. Yet the tiny specks of light that push through can give us some faith that the worst can be overcome, and we can somehow defeat the darkness.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.dusktone.org/categoria-prodotto/preorder/

For more on the label, go here: https://www.dusktone.it/