Death metal doesn’t have to just be about gore and horrors, guts and coffins. I mean, it’s pretty fun when it’s that way, but the subgenre has gone well past the graveyards and deep into space and elsewhere, so the boundary pushing is what’s keeping it exciting. The good stuff can be almost trancelike, letting your consciousness go elsewhere.

Pittsburgh death horde Ritual Mass have the brutality down to a science, but their aspirations lie beyond that, which they prove on their mesmerizing debut full-length “Cascading Misery.” Not that their ambition is something new, as anyone who has seen them live or indulged in their 2019 EP “Abhorred in the Eyes of God” can attest. It’s that creating these six cuts obviously unlocked something morbidly adventurous in the band—vocalist/bassist/synth player N. Dudash, guitarist/backing vocalist P. Trona, guitarist R. Mauck, drummer G. Austin. These 41 minutes are horrifying for sure but also challenge the listener to find things inside of them that are more unsettling and not of this world.

“Obsidian Mirror” starts with synth beams that feel like they’re invading from another realm, and then the leads stir and the vocals scar, driving a wedge between realities. A furious pace erupts that amplifies the brutality, the pace eventually slowing some before a smearing, blurring finish. “Immeasurable Hell” has guitars snarling and blazing, howls menacing, and smoke rising dangerously. The pace jars before hypnotic leads bleed under the door, the chugging feeling causing bones to ache before everything ends in psychedelic torture. “Looming Shapeless Entity” begins with a steamrolling tempo, the guitars boiling and disorienting, vicious howls blending in with the uncomfortably humid air. Leads moan as the growls retch, the heat becoming insurmountable as you struggle for fresh air.

The title track attacks, raw growls digging under fingernails, gargantuan riffs flexing and making things uncomfortable. As the track goes on, the leads insert the knife and twist, devastating as the chugging pace pummels, and a relentless low end suffocates. “Frozen Marrow,” which is a nice treat on a warm day, is mucky as hell, guitars mangling, the speed hulking as the bass chews. It’s a smashing machine aiming for any healthy limb you have left, guitars marring as a synth cloud envelopes and poisons. Closer “Disquiet” runs 14:32, and it starts in doomy waters, disorienting and landing relentless blows, the roars crushing as the playing turns maniacal. Guitars steam as the mid-section plays tricks with your mind, going clean, dreamy, and a bit surreal. The beast slowly emerges from the darkness and tears into you, the roars rampage, and a pit of corrosion disintegrates bones and leaves a sticky mess behind.

“Cascading Misery” is a record that’s plenty brutal, but Ritual Mass’ goal doesn’t appear to just be creating horrific music for times that match. This is immersive, psychological, and pathological, a record that works as hard on your mind as it does your ears. As a true coming-out party for this band, this album could not be more intense and unforgiving, allowing almost no time to prepare or take a meaningful breath. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.20buckspin.com/ritualmass

For more on the label, go here: https://www.20buckspin.com/

If you’re feeling frustrated every time you open your eyes each morning, well, get in fucking line because it’s long and you’re going to be there a while. It’s a particularly aggravating time to be alive, the past eight months a real low point, and being able to just torch something to release that pent-up anger can be a productive outlet.

Motherless sure as shit sounds like an outlet to get things out of their systems. The band—vocalist/guitarist Stavros Giannopoulos, guitarist/vocalist Anthony Cwan, bassist Alex Klein, drummer Gary Naples—pours vitriol and fire into “Do You Feel Safe?” their destructive debut full-length album. Over eight tracks and almost 34 minutes, this sludgy, driving madness grows to a boil quickly and stays spewing chaos the entire goddamn time. This group comprised of members of the Atlas Moth, Novembers Doom, and Without Waves, and they collect their might and punish like there’s no tomorrow.

“Reptile Dysfunction” is a sludgy beast that blasts out of the gates, acidic howls punishing as the bass trudges. The intensity builds from there, threatening and pouring fuel on an already raging fire. “Abrupt Violence” keeps the attack alive, the playing scarring as the intensity remains on high. “I’ve lost my confidence in man, strike down false prophets where they stand,” Giannopoulos wails, the guitars bleeding metallic blood, a pulverizing fury leaving bodies heaving. “You Seem So Damn Sure” fires up, bass chugging, a smoldering D beat barrage taking you down for raw fists to the face. Screams peel rust from metal, a stirring, blurring attack adding to your disorientation, a clip from Jake “the Snake” Roberts from Wrestlemania VI adding to your wounds. “Darling, You Don’t Look Well” starts eerily before guitars start to churn and stretch, a thick haziness hanging overhead. Lead then scuff and leave patches of sunburn, a trucking, thrashy assault barreling full speed ahead before it corrodes.

“Weaponized Goodwill” hammers the gas pedal, the howls kill, and a melodic swath adds some soothing to your blisters. The playing then clubs harder, wails retch, and everything boils to an oddly atmospheric end. “Christian Math” belts you in the face, barked wails making a blunt impression, Giannopoulos howling, “Go set it on fire, for your survival, a new hell awaits, but it won’t suppress my strength.” Parts of this are oddly approachable while others pull you into the frenzy, stomping through mud before a blurry finish. “Insect Politics” squeezes veins, throaty howls gutting, a vicious and scathing campaign designed to lop off heads. Guitars angle into rubbery, confounding terrain, mean snarling smothering ash in mouths. Closer “The New Romance” starts off feeling like a more aggressive At the Drive In track at first blush, but then it leans into raw force and energy, the drums blasting holes in your chest. Things grow rowdier as fiery soloing launches, Giannopoulos barking, “I’ll be swinging all the way down until I’m 6 feet underground.”

“Do You Feel Safe?” is a motherfucker of a record, a ravaging, bloodthirsty trip through personal and societal turmoil that plague us all. Motherless found an outlet for themselves to release that frustration, and perhaps spending time with these eight songs can do the same for you. There’s no glamor here, no gimmicks, just a burst of metallic power that refuses to adhere to musical boundaries and beats the fucking shit out of you. 

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

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

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

There are those among us who believe they are destined for the heavens despite the amount of suffering they allow based on their idea of some sort of pious plan. It’s a fucking lie, it’s all complete horse shit, yet these people spew this nonsense all the time. Yeah, torture as many people here on earth and be met with the heavens. 

Finnish blackened death metal crushers Proscription are well aware of the false faith of so many, especially our world’s leaders, and their bludgeoning new record “Desolate Divine” imagines a supposed true believer who passes on only to find heaven is a pit of dust. This isn’t new ground for the band—vocalist/guitarist ChristButcher, guitarist Cruciatus, bassist/vocalist Apep, drummer M.K.—as they’ve long torched the deeply devout for their supposed faith. But we see awful people every day try to use the name of god to put a gold stamp on torture, abuse, oppression, and greed, so what better ending for them? A gift of very conscious nothingness where their expected paradise was supposed to be.

“Gleam of the Morningstar” charges in, deep growls punishing, screams balancing that out as things head into a vicious cycle. Yells punish as the playing engorges, setting fires that lead a pathway to death. “Bleed the Whore Again” is storming and evil, the leads reigning as beastly, rapid fury ravages. Howls sicken as the playing continues to weaken wills, wiry and sinewy leads wrap their tentacles, and the slaughter finally ends mercifully. “Entreaty of the Very End” is instant carnage, hellish playing decimating as the guitars begin to explore the atmosphere. Brute force returns and leaves damage behind, the wrenching growls turning guts in bellies. “The Midnight God” has guitars hovering as pained howls echo, the playing ramping up and slowly strangling. The pace jolts as guitars sweep, vicious cries snarling to the end.

“Behold a Phosphorescent Dawn” has a smoking open, growls hammering as the guitars rise, total domination stomping your chest. Guitars ignite as the savagery continues, charging and burning into dust. “Heave Ho Ye Igneous Leviathan” races and tears, growls churning as the band beats you into a pulp. Humidity thickens as the shrieks come unglued, a trucking pace taking you underneath their wheels, the devastation flexing and humiliating you thoroughly. “Desolate Divine” is monstrous, the growls welling as a hypnotic outburst makes the room spin, the drumming annihilating. Vile howls sicken as the leads pierce flesh, ending in a mound of utter filth. “The Great Deceiver” is a quick interlude that’s eerie, strange, and chilling, making you feel the desperation of isolation before turning into closer “Not but Dust.” Guitars freeze as the playing unloads, the drums rampaging, and an uneasy pace turning your stomach. The guitars get more ambitious as airy, melodic strains send chills before one final meeting with the blast furnace.

I laugh and laugh when I think of people, especially world leaders, who claim their inhumane actions are some sort of mission from god, and the piggies just slop it up. “Desolate Divine” would be a nice, blunt, sobering wake-up call for them, one that Proscription perhaps didn’t intend to deliver in quite that way, but here we are. This is vicious, blackened, spiritual onslaught best served for those who think they’re promised eternal reward only to be met with nothingness. 

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

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

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

We live in a world awash in darkness, an era when it feels like the tumbling blocks for humanity’s downfall are outside our doorstep. Would you blame people for turning to darker sources for inspiration when the people running this world keep chirping that they’re doing it for their god in heaven?

Belgian black metal force LVTHN have an homage to the more beastly of spirits on “The Devil’s Bridge,” their second album and first in nine years. It’s a properly fiery affair, a record that blends heaviness with mind-fucking strangeness that take you somewhere else. The band, comprised of ZD, DS, DH, CV, KW, a shadowy group whose roles are not identified and who operate as a united whole, let their actions create the perfect ritualistic bloodletting. This is their collection of devotional music that flows through them not so much as songs but as hymns. It’s a massive turn away from the light and into the relentless chaos of the unknown.

“A Malignant Encounter – The Servant” starts with guitars scarring before black metal clouds settle over, howls ripping as the pace rampages into the heart of the storm. Furious melodies jolt as a blazing force takes hold and makes the ride even rockier, shrieks clawing at eye sockets, a frenzied burst ending in melodic haze. “A Malignant Encounter – The Master” has crazed riffs that turn into a tornado, chewing up ground as the guitars continue to menace. Claws dig into flesh as the punchy, mashing tempo leaves bruising, guitars dash, and the final moments scorch earth. “Cacodaemon” is delirious, a dizzying attack that combines with throaty wails and a clobbering front, and then things calm a bit, talk-like howls applying pressure. The pace combusts as the drums turn everything to dust, a boiling cauldron of heat spilling over, vicious cries hurtling toward the horizon. 

“Sum Quod Eris” blisters with heated fury, the vocals carving into your nervous system, slowly strangling as the guitars speed up the pace. Shrieks ravage as the leads get even faster, spiraling out and leaving carnage behind. “Grim Vengeance” scrambles brains, sweltering through tricky guitars, almost zany histrionics, leaving deep psychological damage. Howls melt as the playing gains force, the drums pounding everything into submission. “Mother of Abominations” is dark and churning, the vocals lacerating as the guitars catch fire, excitedly mangling. Guitars tingle as the whispers of, “Mother of abominations, breaker of chains,” sends chills that freeze you in place. The closing title track smashes, howls echoing, the pace wrenching and robbing you of comfort. Then guitars get dirtier as heads are bashed, the vocals tighten their grip, and everything slips slowly into the dark. 

“The Devil’s Bridge” is not to be approached lightly, as LVTHN make evidently clear on this record that feels like a calling of dark forces to ravage this reality. This is devotional music, but the record also is a question to oneself of what one is willing to do for existential freedom. It’s something for late nights when you’re trying to answer questions that lie beyond this plane.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.amor-fati-productions.de/en/

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

This has been one of the worst summers, at least temperature wise, that I can remember. Typically, I enjoy being outdoors in the summer and taking long walks, but these past few months have been different. It’s exhausting being out there, and my body and mind can’t handle this. Climate’s fine, though! At least winter isn’t too far away.

That’s fitting today as we have the new self-titled album from Canadian black metal force Finnr’s Cane to discuss, and damn if it didn’t minorly chill my bones amid sweltering heat and humidity. This record, their fourth and first in seven years, combines frigid metallic might with rustic folk infusions and thoughts of frigid tundra, which is not a huge shift for them or anything. In fact, hearing this collection from Finnr’s Cane—vocalist/guitarist The Bard, cellist/keyboard player The Slave, drummer The Peasant—not only transports minds to colder temperatures but also captures the imagination, allowing the listeners to carve their own adventures in their heads. 

“Wayward Souls” starts with choral calls before guitars scuff, a mix of clean singing and detached speaking bellowing, which is spread over the whole album. Keys flutter as the guitars burn, feeling fantastical as desperate cries leave welts. “Twilight Glow” blends in with clean guitars and an active pace, rushing as howls blister, keys plinking as the atmosphere swells. Hypnosis strikes as acoustics trace, the pace combusts, and everything burns to ashes. “Awaken the Sleeping Forest” digs in, rushing past you, the speaking/howling getting into your brain, melodies storming and trudging. The leads explode as melodies layer, blood rushes to your heart, and things end in an abrupt jolt. “In Shadows” dawns with liquifying guitars, vicious howls belting, the energy stoking fires that illuminate dark caverns. Grisly howls menace as an animalistic pace lets loose, punishing through atmosphere and grit as the guitars turn cleaner before fading.

“The Northwind” has drums encircling as riffs gust, the vocals twisting between storytelling and agony. Guitars turn gazey and melt while keys jab, and then a jolting offensive pushes into feral shouts and a spreading fog. “The Everwinter Grey” opens with strings gliding, keys dripping, and the singing lulling, the guitars gushing and swimming in hazy waters. The power slowly builds as the drums rupture, the howls mash, and a ravaging spirit takes everything to a quaking end. “The Spell of the Change of Seasons” has speaking encircling, and eerie, yet frosty vibes permeating, and a folkish dash underneath everything. Melody glows, though it’s through a thick murk, and as a monologue creaks, the attack suddenly ravages and jolts away suddenly. Closer “Harvest” begins calmly before the center explodes, cold, focused tributaries carrying you toward winter. There’s a bit of an Agalloch sense here as things get more spacious and active, the playing jostles before holding back, and everything fades with a simmering heartbeat.

With winter (or what’s left of that season when it truly arrives) only a few months away, Finnr’s Cane’s new self-titled album provides a hit of solace as we are immersed in stifling heat that seems to know no bounds. This band remains as adventurous as ever, a reminder that there is some relief in the distance, and that days stomping through (hopefully) snowy forests are closer. Having this land in the summer gives us a chance to get our minds right and our hopes turned toward an eventual deep freeze.

For more on the band, go here: https://finnrs-cane.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://nordvis.lnk.to/finnrs-cane

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

A band showing a different side of itself is something that can be incredibly refreshing for artist and listener and even provide a new pathway forward. Earlier this year, Blackwater Holylight released an EP that’s pretty different from their normal sound, and it really worked. And it makes you wonder what’s ahead with future creations.

Philly black metal heathens Unholy Altar have conjured some of the rawest, bloodiest black metal we’ve heard the past few years, but on their new EP “A Sullen Dark Sky,” we get something altogether new from them. To be clear, there still is plenty of black metal bludgeoning here, but also infused is extra atmosphere and more delicate parts that provide a streak of beauty through the blood. Make no mistake, the band—vocalist Desecrator, vocalist/guitarist Miserer, guitarist Evoked Damnator, bassist Cadaver, drummer Lucifer’s Rage—hasn’t left their chaotic ways behind at all, but they do put more textures into the mix that could be a one-off idea or a first step toward adding different colors to their incantations.

“Intro” gives an early indication that the mood has changed a bit as eerie tones stretch, bells chimes, and wordless calls sit back in the shadows, clean singing feeling like parts of a dream. Sounds hang in the air, feeling disorienting before leaning into “Judas Iscariot” that begins reflectively before howls begin to maim. Shrieks corrode as a melodic gush floods, the ambiance feeling strangely infectious. Growls then bruise as the power reaches into your guts, mesmerizing before bleeding into “Heathen” that is mauling and mashing from the start. Vicious screams hammer as feral speed takes hold, leading to a sickening fury that strangles with malice. “Descent” has melodic riffs and a punchiness that blackens eyes, hypnotic guitars layering psychosis as if from some illicit syrup. The playing cools off a bit as guitars glimmer, howls lurch, and the final moments leave charred ends, heading into “Outro” that feels instantly fantastical. Haunting whispers cloud your mind, bristling chants welcome “the mother of harlots and abominations,” and then everything suddenly zaps into nonexistence.

Unholy Altar already have proved what they can do with raw, bloody black metal, and this EP “A Sullen Dark Sky” shows a different side of their creativity and madness. A combination of their ferocity and more dreamlike tendencies might make for one hell of a second LP, bleeding both worlds together. If this is just a quick spark of experimentation, it stands as proof they’re ambidextrous musically and always can pull out these skills when we least expect them.  

For more on the band, go here: https://unholyaltar666.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://unholyaltar666.bandcamp.com/album/a-sullen-dark-sky-2

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

And here: https://liminaldreadproductions.bandcamp.com/

Metal used to be fun. Well, it still is. But it also used to be. There didn’t used to be a huge online swath of fans that get upset if people smile while listening to a metal record or decide to indulge in something that makes them feel something other than existential dread. Is that too much to ask? 

Medieval black metal crushers Fell Omen, a project helmed by Spider of Pnyx, takes its art seriously, but you also can tell there’s a shit ton of joy infused into the punk and chaos on his records. “Caelid Dog Summer,” a reference to Elden Ring, follows in a similar path to “Invaded By a Dark Spirit,” which was released in February. It feels like you should pick up an ax, chainmail, a horse, and whatever else you need to protect the castle from an oncoming invasion. That escapism is so much fun in which to indulge, and these songs can help you forget, for a little while, the chaos outside your door.

“Starscourge Phase One & Phase Two” starts with keys glowing and some great riffs, guitars blazing and chugging as melodies catch fire. Howls finally tear in later, the leads turning molten and crushing, weirdness melting into time. “Northern Lights Bomb” opens with commentators calling wrestling action (fitting for our title) and the power bursts in, raw howls mangling, storms lurking in the distance. Clean playing wipes your face clean before sootiness and vibrant punk energy take over, the leads heating dangerously, then a warm flow peaking before the end comes swiftly. “The Horrors Persist But so Does Steel” begins amid a thunderstorm, bells clanging before the track launches in full, tearing open the senses. Speedy guitars and washed-out wails unite, gang-style shouts rouse, and guitars unload, fully engulfing everything in flames, ending this spirited, short blast.

“Born to Siege” rambles in, feeling catchy and stomping, screaming melting metal swords. A fiery energy launches as soloing erupts, and beastly screams go for the jugular, thick melodies dragging everything to hell. “Poise on Rune” starts with chants before blistering, the punk bravado sending blood racing through your veins, the guitars going off viciously. Folk-infused fires are stoked while the pace keeps bubbling, wild sax notes charge the air, and everything comes to a smoking end. The title track is a quick one with wordless chants, buzzing hurdy gurdy, and the sense you can smell smoke rising over village walls. Closer “The Fire Is Still Warm” has guitars burning, howls scarring, and sax barreling through gates, the screams punishing as the playing squeezes tighter. Things turn a strange combo of breezy and molten while the pace slows and claws, bruising as it expires.

“Caelid Dog Summer” is plenty heavy and solidly dangerous, but it’s also so goddamn much fun that you might realize you’re smiling through your execution. Spider of Pnyx has a stranglehold on his style, and that is so apparent on this album that’s full of chicanery, fire, and confidence. It might feel like you should be defending the castle as these gems assault your ears, which should help you bask in majesty and might equally.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://fellomen.bandcamp.com/album/caelid-dog-summer

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

Dreams, to me, always feel like a collection of tales from across generations, dimensions, and time zones, all of the scenes informed by people here and gone or characters and events invented in our minds. It’s a weird way to communicate with ourselves, but it can spark inspiration or allow you to branch our beyond yourself.

Marissa Nadler’s music always will be covered on this site. Not because of her work with Xasthur. But because she has a sense of doom and darkness as thick as any of the players who create those sounds. Oh, and because we fucking love her. “New Radiations” is her new record, her 10^th and another immersive trip into her mind. While a little more folkish than her last couple albums, these 11 tracks will prove she’s right where she usually is, telling tales as old as time that seem to come from somewhere time doesn’t even exist. It’s a warm, haunting, rousing adventure, and every ounce of this goes down easily.  

“It Hits Harder” opens with stark acoustics, Nadler’s unmistakable voice calling, “Everything dies, it’s just the way.” The longing is evident as soft, sorrowful melodies gather, and an electric gaze numbs before fading. “Bad Dreams Summertime” feels like it should be thought of in black and white, sun not able to break the barrier, Nadler singing, “Right place, but wrong time to scream.” The chorus numbs as the song blends into the surreal and strange, disappearing into unease. “You Called Her Camelia” has acoustics with electric tones lulling, Nadler calling, “You know she loved you, but it all changed.” The tone remains soft and black, pedal steel glistening, organs moving through the shade to the other side. “Smoke Screen Selene” has the guitars pacing, feeling doomy, then strings glaze and the distortion trudges. Acoustics encircle, Nadler’s voice flooding your mind, slowly bleeding away power. The title track has warm acoustics, the singing pushing ahead, Nadler recalling, “I was tracing the light of a memory,” as galactic winds send breezes. The playing grows calmer as buzzing guitars quiver, ending in electric glaze. “If It’s An Illusion” has a folk country feel, delicately moving, the chorus entrancing, Nadler calling, “I’m still choosing the ground below.” The playing haunts as weepy guitars give a sun-splashed vibe.

“Hatchet Man” is the brightest but also murkiest gem of the collection, dark folk strains permeating, Nadler calling, “I was in over my head, I couldn’t make him love me only, would have been better just to live with loneliness than all of this.” The playing has a ’70s feel, heartache and sadness making up the shape of this phantom, guitars coating the end. “Light Years” has the acoustics making strange patterns, strings layering, Nadler recalling, “You used to be right there beside her.” The melodies slowly melt as hints of light from the track blurs into night. “Weightless Above the Water” lets guitars and strings glimmer, the singing float, the darkness fully mesmerize you. The emptiness and ghostliness become a heavy presence while organs swell, and keys fully evaporate. “To Be the Moon King” is another storyteller, this one feeling like an old-time tale but also a timeless one. Nadler sings of her subject, “Building rockets behind his house, crows over his head,” as dreams from beyond increase. There’s a fantastical feel to it all, like watching a sepia-coated film, everything  fading away. Closer “Sad Satellite” keeps us in space, acoustics dripping as memories from winter days shake you. “It was sucking me dry, you can see it in my eyes,” Nadler levels, spacey keys quivering as she follows, “I mistook you for the sky,” as wistful tones linger.

Nadler never veers far from what she’s always done so well, but she never fails to haunt and hypnotize, singing of tales that feel pulled from past dreams. “New Radiations” deliver 11 more dusty pages from Nadler’s brain that seem to defy time and generation in both words and music. Every trip with her is worth anyone’s time, and each record she releases takes you somewhere you’ve never been before though you swear you know it by heart.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.sacredbonesrecords.com/products/sbr-371-marissa-nadler-new-radiations

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

Death metal always has exposed the ugliest and most horrific ideas known to humankind. But a great deal of that involves horror movie-style blood and guts and other terrifying subject matter that, while great fodder for movies and stories, isn’t reality. There are far more disgusting real-life events going on around us that cause actual human pain and suffering, which is more chilling.

Death metal crushers Castrator make gory, traditionally bloody death metal on a sonic level, but digging deeper, there are revelations about unspeakable ugliness going on in our history and modern society that are scarier than a skeleton pulling out his guts in a graveyard. On their molten second album “Coronation of the Grotesque,” they remain as guttural as ever while also shining a light on injustices, human suffering, state-sponsored brutality, and sexual predators. We also, in this country, live under a regime that has tried to protect people who commit such atrocities and waive them away as if they’re the victims. The band—vocalist Clarissa Badini, guitarist Sara Loerlein, bassist Robin Mazen, drummer Carolina Perez—brings their experience from other acts such as Derketa, Vicious Blade, Gruesome, Hypoxia, and others to channel their rage and metallic will to set fire to these evils in our world with a sharpened blade meant to maim oppressors and true evil.

“Fragments of Defiance” tears open, growls menacing, the pace slowing to a deadly lurch but remaining heavy as hell. Guitars go off as the pace combusts, mashing through vile howls and an ending haze that intoxicates. “I Am Eunuch” gushes with soaring leads, a dizzying attack, and then a charged-up bruising that teams with Badini’s vocals that utterly slay. Things get humid before guitars light up, the thrashing guts, and everything ends viciously. “Covenant of Deceit” is eerie when it dawns, and then ugliness ensues as the growls dig deep into guts, and the battering turns into a slow burn that increases the pressure. Badini’s wails get raspier before she delves back into guttural growls, and then the guitars jolt, setting off a grisly string of events. “Mortem Opeterie” is fast and nasty, growls snarling as the guitars squeeze throats, the fury spreading dangerously. The leads turn warmer before all hell breaks loose again, driving into horrors unforeseen, blasting out into hell. “Remnants of Chaos” chugs hard, the pace then racing before pulling back a bit, the vocals tearing into your psyche. Demonic shrieks peel paint off the walls while the bludgeoning turns more volatile, speeding before wrecking shop.

“Deviant Miscreant” brings frying guitars, a pace that chews muscle, and growls that smear soot in your mouth. The guitars catch fire and turn mesmerizing, letting your mind wander before chaos returns, turning toward a breathless, blinding outburst. “Psalm of Beguiled” rampages, the growls and shrieks combining to do further psychological damage, the bass clobbering with ferocity. Guitars tear open and electrify as the intensity floods, speeding its way to a demolishing finish. “Blood Bind’s Curse” erupts as guitars wage war, the growls scrape prone wounds, and the tempo gets dangerously heated, making conditions feel more dangerous than usual. The soloing absolutely blazes, a glorious stretch that melts flesh, and the band keeps the gas pedal glued to the floor from there, smoldering as the growls gnaw on your bones. “Discordant Rumination” opens with shrieks raining down, a death charge aiming for your ribs, and raw hell unleashing new forms of pain. The leads smoke as the pace turns manic, slow mucking power makes your path stickier, and everything is ground into paste. The closer is a savage cover of the Exodus classic “Metal Command” from their 1985 classic “Bonded By Blood,” one of the great thrash records ever. The band gives it a deadly, rotting makeover, keeping the power and metallic glory intact while also giving it a modern face of eternal decay.

“Coronation of the Grotesque” is the gnarliest, most vision thing Castrator has released so far, and while they delve deep into blood and guts, they also remain steadfast in their mission to expose abuse, injustice, and suffering. So, yeah, it’s noticeably uglier than their previous work, but we also continue to grow darker and more bloodthirsty as a society. This is a massive step up from a band that already was operating at a high level, and this record should be recognized for the death metal mastery it is. It completely destroys. 

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

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

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

We all see unspeakable horrors every day of the week, and that’s just what people and leaders do to one another for power. It’s perverse to think of it this way, but maybe what we all need is a good, strong dose of cosmic horrors to take our mind off the other terrors we have to see all the time. Fantasy monsters can be soothing after all.

Chicago-based sludge/doom instrumental trio Plague of Carcosa long have found inspiration in Cthulhu and other Lovecraftian lore, and to do that with mostly no vocals is a tall order for a lesser band. Yet, they capture the essence in drubbing fashion, and on their second full-length “In the Dreamless Deep,” the band—guitarists A. Scott Grant, guitarist/bassist Eric Zann, drummer Alexander Adams—drops a planet’s worth of weight into these six songs that maul over 44 minutes. It lures you into the center of madness, stretches you to your limit, and leaves bruising over your psyche. It’s a fucking beast.

“Intangible Monument” hammers open, feedback swelling, the stomping rhythm meeting up with punishing riffs that chug and blister. Sooty, nasty sludge oozes out of crevices, guitars burn, and the bass plots destruction, sounds squeezing before disappearing. “Over Innsmouth” is melodic and mournful when it dawns, then it turns quickly to skull bashing, the leads glimmering amid a pit of destruction. An emotional swell makes nerve endings quiver as the playing absolutely cooks, bringing with it psychedelic heat and sounds frying your brain wiring. A lumbering force makes the earth quake as melodies swell, and cosmic zaps disappear into the clouds. “Sepulchre of the Dead Gods” flows gently before the power lurches, turning into a full doom fury, the filth caking your veins. The low end gets grittier and more muscular, the drums leave bruising, and everything burns in acid.

“Twilight, Respite” is a quick instrumental with bubbling energy, gently flowing  as guitars simmer, and static eats away at the edges. “Awakened Sentinel” is the longest track, running 15:01 and working instantly into psyche guitars and a lathering dose of sludge that you can chew. Guitars build as everything takes on a feel like you’re underwater, ears full of liquid, the pace picking up as you battle disorientation. Calmer waves lap as the bones churns, the playing glimmering like sun splash over the sea. Then the pace bends minds, a deep hypnosis takes hold, and a long stretch of mesmerizing power pulls you under. Closer  “The Elder Things” has guitars zapping and sounds blending, mammoth mauling completely crushing your equilibrium. Caveman-style hulking sends even more raw energy down your spine as the pace bludgeons, an incredible riff arrives and spikes your senses, and the final moments are utter demolition, burying power in a watery grave.

“In the Dreamless Deep” is more gut-wrenching, imaginative doom from Plague of Carcosa, a band that’s committed itself to the Cthulhu legend and making those tales feel larger and even more horrific. This is a hefty serving of menace and might, a record in which it’s easy to get lost, especially if you’re caught in your own beast-infested imagination. This is a massive offering, one that’ll fill you to the top with horrors, magic, and murk.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://plagueofcarcosa.bandcamp.com/album/in-the-dreamless-deep

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