I’ve never been to the desert, and I don’t believe I’ve ever been close to one, though I strangely am attracted to its folklore and the music it inspires. It gives me the same sense I get later in the summer near dusk when the horizons vibrate with oranges and purples, and the dustier the music, the better.

Arizona-based black metal crew Sunscorched have heat and cactus needles comprising their DNA, and their first record “Blood of the Badlands” delivers over and over again, feeling like they’re melting your inhibitions. The band—vocalist/guitarist/bassist Austin Kruger, guitarist Mitch Wilson, drummer Rory James—takes you on a whipping adventure, revisiting the folklore and traditions of their home, uncovering themes of survival and violence, blood shed as unconquerable nature looms large. It’s a very exciting record, one that plays in the same realm as, say, Wayfarer, but stands on its own fiery terrain.

“Strangers Land” opens with dogs calling, acoustics washing, campfires crackling, a dusty excursion unfurling and loading into “Whiskey and Oak”  that churns before erupting. Guitars encircle as the band scorches, melodies flow deeply, and leads spiral and drive into clouds. The playing hammers anew, the tempo surrounding you, torching everything in the band’s path as embers burn into the ground. “Slaughter at Camp Grant” documents the 1871 massacre of 140 Apache people, and it bleeds in before coming apart, howls crushing, drums punishing, thrashing into fiery tumult. Speedy riffs lead the charge, rushing with raucous melodies, howls creaking as everything blisters to an end. “Vultures That Circle My Grave” delivers gushing leads, growls that scrape flesh, and trudging smearing that adds a smoky flavor. The pace hits an immersive slow burn before battering and sweltering. The soloing takes off for the clouds as the power energizes, birds caw in the distance, and dirty guitars land more blows before everything dissolves.

“The Gallows Tree” smashes, slide guitars bring a haunting vibe with them, and the menace gallops in behind the band. Anguished cries twist at your heart, and sunburnt grimness starts to set in, slow-crushing pressure caving your chest, guitars moaning. The storm begins to capitalize on its position, the playing thrashing and beating, the guitars smoldering and sending thick smoke plumes. “Thousand Year Drought” opens with the leads staggering, the playing wrenching deeply, and the howls causing abrasions on your face. The guitars spiral as the soloing blisters, the melodies swell and flutter, and mad barks open wounds before ending in echo. The closing title track is an instrumental piece that dawns with acoustics and violins, moodiness spreads, and a jazzy vibe is achieved as guitars swell. Melodies weep as a spirited push amplifies the emotion, then more gentle playing rises, guitars wax nostalgic, and the darkness falls.

“Blood of the Badlands” is an intense and earth-baked introduction to Sunscorched’s Western-style black metal. Nods to their Arizonian landscape and its history play a large part in what’s going on here, and you can’t help but feel a little reddened and parched when the journey ends. This is a promising start for a band that has the heart and will and displays it ad nauseum on this punishing debut.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.bolverkcollective.com/sunscorched

For more on the label, go here: https://www.bolverkcollective.com/bolverk-records

It’s one thing to be frustrated with the very task of being a human every day. It’s another to be able to interpret that with violent precision in your art, leaving no doubt where your mind frame is while dealing with our surroundings. That’s what Spanish death metal power Altarage does with devastating results on seventh album “Cogwheel.”

Just from the title, the monotony of living in constant horrors that never seem to relent twist your brain, and then taking on these seven tracks that pummel for nearly 75 minutes doubles down on the pain. The band—vocalist/guitarist Javier Gálvez, bassist Mikel Glez, drummer Phlegeton—focuses on crumbling societies and constantly living life as a cog only here for the benefit of commerce. Therefore, the manner in which these songs weigh down, grind, and chew make all the sense in the world. It’s the translation of how that feels from people who have been locked in the same system as the rest of us.

“Peso Muerto” opens and runs a healthy 9:31, smothering immediately, howls peppering festering wounds, smearing and battering into something deformed. The pace combusts and decimates as the guitars sprawl, chaos unleashes hell and ash, and every element batters fully, sounds stretching over madness. Somehow the band finds a more gargantuan level, attacking and slithering into infernal terror, the gusts licking limbs with flames. “Wielder” is a massive13:56, stinging as a thickened assault slithers your way, chunky rhythms and mashing power having their way, the senses totally obliterated. Howls crush as total decimation swallows psyches whole, disarming and charging, guitars spiraling into a vortex as the growls increase the pain. A tornadic force unglues and grinds down, eventually merging with a hellstorm, drone chewing at bones as an extended ending makes sure you experience every bit of torture. “Future Wreck” jars as fumes spread, howls gust, and the bruising becomes more pronounced, breaking open fully, the growls clawing at faces. The playing thrashes and then suffocates, dissonant leads make your mind wander, and then things suddenly halt before a soundscape wafts. Guitars work through heavy ash clouds, and a strange transmission makes impulses bubble, heading into mysterious corners of space. 

“1988” is something of a breather, an ambient piece that pours sounds as stars crumble, adding pressure as it goes along, flooding through dark matter and hissing far into the stars. “Not a Proper Burial” is sooty with guitars moaning, and an eruption jarring the floor beneath you. The pace is relentless, destroying everything in sight, offering no gasp for air, digging in and dislodging bones. Crazed vocals smear as weird melodies flow wildly, guitars drive through a reborn energy belt, and the inherent strangeness multiplies and devours. “Ichor” is the longest track here at 14:45, and it radiates before engulfing, the playing warping, unexpected singing bellowing like a detached phantom, slipping into rough folds and edges. The playing turns rubbery, a monstrous force explodes from its mouth, and the howls tear at sanity, the drumming splattering. Roars crush as the guitars generate steam, noise builds, and everything is bent into submission. Closer “Industrial Offering” drips fuel before detonating, the crushing force blowing bodies back, the wails destroying as the force becomes insurmountable. The pace becomes a battering ram, sounds truck, and the playing swims in chaos, bleeding out into oblivion.

Altarage bring a feast to the table with “Cogwheel,” one of their most abrasive records yet, and one that might take time to digest. There is a lot to handle thematically as well as we  deal with unforgiving life forces that mean us harm, as well as the ways our minds try to find peace. This record isn’t meant for your summer drives or metal playlists. This is human music that is mean, unsanitized, and meant for the dark hours when all that remains are you and your thoughts.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://sentientruin.com/releases/altarage-cogwheel

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

I’ll be driving across state soon, and I have done a lot of thinking about what music is going to accompany me on that trip. It’ll be later in the day, so I have dusk and the darkness to consider, which means I’ll pick much different stuff than if I was driving in daylight. During that time of the day, I want doomy and reflective, something matching the horizon hues.

A lock for one of the records I’ll absorb is “Soledad and Orgullo,” the debut record from Peruvian doom dreamers Argul. The title translates to “solitude and pride,” and it feels like it comes right from doom metal’s roots, basking in Sabbath’s glow and putting as much dreaminess into their music as thunder. The band—lead guitarist/vocalist Mauricio Guerrero, rhythm guitarist/vocalist Jose María Venturi, bassist Jian Holmes, and drummer Alonso Guerrero (former drummer Emilio Carranza plays on two tracks)—has had this material hanging around for a while as most of this record was recorded in 2017. The bonus track is the only one tracked this year. Not that it matters at all. It’s the perfect soundtrack for a late-day drive when you need your imagination to keep you alert.

“Ritual” starts with a bluesy swagger, hinting at shot-and-a-beer territory before taking a dramatic turn toward doom, and I mean of the vintage variety. The singing is smooth, and darkly so, the playing soaring into the night sky, the emotion swimming as your guts fire. The guitars take off and hit a ragged stoner vibe, the heat stretches and sets your mind at ease, and a midnight driving vibe takes over. Combustion follows as guitars swelter and spark, floating off into oblivion. “Engendro” unfurls and stomps, pumping energy, fuzzy singing making your limbs feel numb. The guitars up the ante as the temperature builds, smoke becomes impossible to escape, and the singing surges, melting into time. “Hor Hodin” stars with Conan’s prayer to Crom from “Conan the Barbarian,” already making your brain feel woozy. Guitars gaze as the sounds hang, almost as if you’re in a trance, and then the playing gets more muscular. The singing echoes as the leads take off for the sky, adding burly, fiery menace that dissolves into ashes.

“Animal Dog” is the closing track on some versions, and it melts slowly, humidity adding to the heat, a muscular pace growing out of that and landing some jabs. The stream snakes as the singing clouds, and then calm arrives, exploring as the leads drape over walls. Warm waters flow as breezy fluidity takes hold before the band stomps harder, powerful playing cresting and merging with acoustic flourishes and soft singing laying the track to rest. “Kamog” is a 14:20-long bonus track, which is a shame because it, along with the opener, is the best song here. Winds blow as a reading of Lovecraft’s The Thing on the Doorstep sets the stage, guitars open and buzz, and the singing floats, giving off a Pallbearer vibe. Wordless calls animate cells as the playing begins to jar and blind, an emotional toll accumulating, guitars churning before finding warmth. Vocals soar as hearts race, the guitars intensify their attack, and the soloing adds a slew of new colors, blazing across the sky, stretching into the cosmos, disappearing into an endless void where it loops forever.

“Soledad and Orgullo” is a record that should find an audience with anyone who relishes roots doom metal and can lose themselves in the psychedelics and endless dreams. Argul have made the perfect night-driving record, a piece that can’t help but keep you awake at the wheel because your heart will be surging based on what they laid down. This is a record that, from first listen, has sunk its hooks into my brain and refused to leave my rotation, which it won’t be doing any time soon.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.personal-records.com/product/pre-order-argul-soledad-orgullo-cd/

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

There’s a strange dichotomy between witnessing the grandeur of nature where you’re surrounded by incredible visions, and also realizing there is so much ugliness and divisiveness elsewhere. We can try to breathe in the air and immerse ourselves in healing things, but we’re always followed by the knife, enduring battles that repeat.

UK-based atmospheric black metal force Fen always have brought a cinematic approach to their music, their albums feeling like epics packed into record form. Their latest is “Elemental Part One: Mourning Earth,” the first of a two-part adventure that is their shortest to date at 47 minutes, and it also is one of their most musically expansive, adding more variety and texture to what they do. The band—vocalist/guitarist The Watcher (Frank Allain), bassist/vocalist Grungyn (Adam Allain), drummer J.G.—remains plenty heavy but also sweeps through a gamut of emotions, grappling with our warped realities.

“Glacier” fade in with the drums folding, sounds swelling, The Watcher’s singing floating, teasing ease before sparks fly. Howls scar as the brutality arrives, energy burns as guitars surge, and the flow crests, teasing a false finish before washing over again with raging waters. The playing ruptures, clean singing bellows, and a spirited rush blisters before fading and disappearing into fog. “Tectonic” is furious, screams belting, the playing hitting the gas pedal, howls charging as fires spread wildly. Melodic gushes arrive and cover rocks, the vocals torch, and the leads explode, the pace switching between clean and thorny before exploding. “Massif” starts gently, gliding over the wind, feeling dreamy as the singing melts the ice around your heart. Howls then emerge as the playing gets burlier, leads burst and get faster, and the energy stomps as shrieks peel away flesh. Guitars chug as sinister singing pokes holes in ribs, whispers swirl, and thunder cracks as waves lap the shore.

“Abyssal Plain” emerges from this mists, wordless calls make cells come to life, and the howls smear blood, the heaviness becoming a greater factor with which to contend. Everything takes off as the shrieks rain down, guitars encircle and mesmerize, and then the storm pounds harder, blistering with ferocious force that refuses to loosen its grip until the end. “Barrow” has guitars sprawling as a wiry tempo emerges, fast and active melodies rise, and a thunderous push makes the ground quake. The band thrashes through guitar glaze, blazing before turning calmer, then woodsy playing and clean calls unite, and leads spill again as shrieks crash and burn. Closer “Moor” is the longest track, running 12:57 and shimmering at dawn, clean singing and growls mashing together, darkened riffs harrowing as melodies tangle. Atmosphere thickens as the singing treads water, leading to riffs unloading, and sound echoes manifesting. The bass curves through synth clouds, the power ramps up again, and a gazey front collides with drums rupturing. Vocals cut as the leads gain force, the power engorges, and clean guitars return, fading into memories.

“Elemental Part One: Mourning Earth” not only marks Fen’s shortest effort to date but also one of their most musically varied. Despite the hopelessness and torment built into the monotony of another sorrowful day, the music has a beauty to it, even a solemnity that helps it exist alongside their stormy black metal. Part 2 still looms, but for now we have a Fen record that might take some getting used to, but once it blossoms in your mind, it is as rich as anything in their catalog and sparks just as many dreams.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://spkr.store/collections/fen

For more on the label, go here: https://en.prophecy.de/

It used to be a staple that heavy metal songs would be used in horror movie soundtracks, back when those collections were a big deal. Dokken, Slayer, Megadeth, Alice Cooper, Lizzy Borden, Fastway and plenty others had their music in films, and for a lot of audiences, these albums would be an introduction to heavier music.

Buffalo ghouls Cemetery Echo arrived four decades too late, because their music would sound great over, say, a new “Nightmare on Elm Street” chapter, and their debut record “Civitas Lacrimarum” is all the proof anyone needs to hear. The band has some gruffer tendencies, with fingertips in death metal, but they primarily deal in gothic power and a deathrock/punk amalgamation they call “haunt ‘n’ roll.” Yeah, that’s about sums it up. The band—vocalist Rob Palumbo, guitarists Erik Wagonblott and Jay Zgoda, bassist Jason Roman, drummer Mike Paquette—oozes with charisma and an alluring darkness, adding a fun edge to their blood-dripping tales.

“Hell Night” starts with clean guitars washing over, gothy singing flowing, a driving pace pushing into a strong chorus that sticks with you. There are a lot of those here. Raspier howls belt as keys glaze into a neon night, the soloing burns, and the final jolts tear away. “Cannibalistic Underground Nihilist Teens” is punchy with a punk vibe, talk singing slinking, the chorus mesmerizing. Guitars cloud as lightning lines the edges, the singing pulses, and the playing trudges out. “Snakeland’s Pull” has gruff growl singing, guitars dripping, the blackness sinking like ink through water. The track has a total deathrock feel, guitars send heat, and the tempo speeds up, blasting into the shadows. “Knight Rider” lands blows early, growls scrape, and Palumbo howls, “We will obey!” A hypnotic dream unfurls over a nightmarish chorus, and dark colors flow as Palumbo wails, “Rising up from the toxic waste,” as your face is pounded.

“Dungeon of Love” is moody, clean singing slinking, bursting with cold water and hand claps. Throes of vampirism pulls you into the center, Palumbo insisting, “I’ll be the one to bring you home,” as the pace swims into clouds. “Echolocation” smears, gravelly singing bellowing, the darkness spiraling into madness. Ashen tones mix with gloomy keys, the soloing cries out, and the pace surges, bleeding into mercy. “Sanctuary” is eerie, deep vocals penetrate, and the alluring chorus gushes, the guitars giving off a glowing sheen. Growls batter as the leads churn, the melodies spark, and the plastering rumbles. “Trouble with Demons” starts with guitars clouding, the vocals adding to the fog, the playing commanding. “The more you fight, the more you suffer,” Palumbo prods over the chorus, the soloing glides, and the drums blast rock into cinders. Closer “Babylon” spills into gloominess, conjuring a thick ’80s essence, speak-singing clouding your brain. The pace is both catchy and tough, and growls belt hard, letting the temperatures rampage into chaos.

Cemetery Echo would have been an easy choice in the 1980s for a horror movie soundtrack, and “Civitas Lacrimarum” would have offered a lot of gems in that era. This is fun shit, it’s heavy enough to lean into a death metal crowd, but it also can defy this genre and find favor elsewhere. This is graveyard and Halloween shit, stuff that sounds great now when it’s 400 degrees outside but really will peak once autumn arrives.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://tornfromthegrave.us/search?type=product%2Carticle%2Cpage%2Ccollection&options%5Bprefix%5D=last&q=cemetery+echo*

Or here (Europe): https://tornfromthegrave.com/search?type=product%2Carticle%2Cpage%2Ccollection&options%5Bprefix%5D=last&q=cemetery+echo*

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

Metal has been around more than half a century now, and it has splintered in so many different directions that you need multi-word descriptors to accurately convey most bands’ sounds. That’s great progress though, and we’re very lucky to have the richest the genre awards us, but it also is nice when a band simply can be called Heavy metal.

Ironflame is one of those, and their sixth opus “Worlds to Conquer” adds to their solid resume that’s been in creation for a decade now. This Andrew D’Cagna-led project has been a consistent producer ever since forming, and this new record keeps hitting on the power-friendly path they’ve blazed with their unmistakable energy. Rounded out by guitarists Jesse Scott and Quinn Lukas, bassist James Babcock, and drummer Noah Skiba, Ironflame hit on fantasy themes, great wars, and domination, packing a blast into these eight (or nine, depending on which version you grab) songs that bleed with muscle.

“Night Closes In” opens with keys stinging and the singing soaring, a fiery pace kicking up and driving heavily. “The sun never rises again,” D’Cagna calls over the chorus, “a curse on the dark hearts of men,” as the drums burst, and the drama burns freely. “Legion of Fire” has leads swirling and gruffer singing, mashing and trudging as blood smears. The soloing ignites, D’Cagna wails, “We’re waging a war, we’re crushing empires,” as the pace bubbles, and the intensity chews on nerve endings. “Dynasties Fall” has aching leads and the power battling, a strong chorus making your heart race, the soloing catching fire and leaving an ash trail. The power spills over as the catchiness ignites fires, getting into your bloodstream and carrying you away. “Where Cauldrons Burn” takes off with whipping energy, the verses add further crunch, and the singing soars, adding even more gust to the chorus. There’s an undeniable ’80s feel to what’s going on, which adds more grit and thicker roots, the melodic leads are forceful and chewy, and everything trickles into space.

“Shadow Slave” charges, driving fast and tensely, the singing rousing. “Their souls cannot be saved, their hearts cannot be tamed,” D’Cagna calls, dual leads tangling as the solo zaps, the drums wreck bones, and the energy spills over the side. “Crimson Shores” enters in a drum attack, speed becomes a fast factor, and the pace stomps, quaking the earth. Leads snarl as the tempo trucks, the playing lashing with thorny strides, the drums burying you under rubble as waves crash the shore. “Valhalla Is Calling” is, as its title hints, glorious as hell, riffs snaking as Norse mythology flows from creative veins, D’Cagna wailing, “Where heroes meet in the end,” over the blistering chorus. The playing then takes an early Maiden turn, spirited “woah!” calls rupture, and the final blasts add to the growing fire. The closing title track has riffs snarling, a calculated pace pushing, and punches landing, the singing stinging faces. The leads tangle as D’Cagna howls, “Defeating heroes and monsters,” over the chorus, the last blasts sending shrapnel flying.

“Worlds to Conquer” is another blast of classic power metal from Ironflame, one that harkens back to this sound’s origins and the history it has written the past few decades. D’Cagna remains one of the strongest voices and creators keeping this sound alive and vital, and every ounce of this album explodes with passion. This is impossible to shake, a record that ignites hearts and reminds of the unquestioned power of heavy metal.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.hrrecords.de/IRONFLAME

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

There is music that sounds best when the sun is setting in the summer, the horizon is awash in oranges and blues and purple, and at least for me, it’s when I feel most connected to who I am. Not everything hits right at the time of day, but the music that feels suited for my brain at the hour, nothing hits harder.

Dry Wedding comes to mind at the moment, mainly because I’m going to talk about their thunderous third record “The Back of Beyond.” If you’re new to the band, they’re not heavily on the metal side. They’re dusty and feral. Think more on the lines of Wailing Storms, 16 Horsepower, Nick Cave, and Crazy Horse. It’s a gothy, dark thing that is perfect for the end of the day, letting your emotions get the best of you. Comprised of Davey Ferchow (vocals, guitar), Jarrod Green (guitar, synth), Chadwick Ferguson (bass), and Tom Fuller (drums), the band fires up over and over, letting the smoke and darkness settle, the alcohol burn your tongue, and the ash on your cigarette grow mountainous.

“Arrowhead” has a dusty open, Ferchow’s husky singing tussling (his voice and delivery remind me a bit of Haley Fohr), the playing picking up, sending people packing. A burst teases as the guitars wash over, the vocals push, and gothic fury rages from the edges, delivering a heavy emotional blow. “The Serpent Box” is psychedelic and gusty, the singing driving as the playing sends jolts, chugging as the pace snakes, sweeping with electricity. Rich singing blasts as the guitars swirl, storm clouds hanging overhead. “Sure as a Gun” swaggers and steams, slide guitars adding oil slicks, the vocals working through a dirty filter, the bass dragging bodies through the dirt. The aura turns mystical, guitars trace and churn before power ignites, and Ferchow’s calls ring in your brain, stabbing into hearts.

“Blood-Red Vengeance” is a quick one that enters on drums rolling, the singing swimming, and the guitars moaning, desert heat stretching its way across the horizon. “One Last Strand” rounds up as the bass trucks and the singing lurks, steely melodies landing blows, digging into a mound of hot coals. The tempo picks up and chugs, the energy jolts, and the heat melts away with savage energy. “Moths” hangs in the air, dust getting in your lungs, the singing getting stronger as the whiskey burns in your veins. The pressure collects as the pace encircles, sun-scorched melodies torch flesh, Ferchow howls, “There’s nothing left!” Guitars do damage as the bass clubs, the sounds echoing out. Closer “Shifting Wilderness” is propulsive, Ferchow calling, “I can’t stop, I need to reach.” The heat multiplies as slide guitars cry out, the playing trudges harder and gets faster, and the humidity thickens. Emotions fire as spirits float in mists, burning into oblivion.

“The Back of Beyond” is a record that gets into your nervous system and takes control of you for 38 minutes, aligning with your darkness and strangest inhibitions and powering them forward. Dry Wedding are not tied to any particular sound or boundaries, making what they do as refreshing as it is raw and thorny. This is blood-fueled expression, burning everything down to its foundation in order for you to fly high again.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://linktr.ee/vesperian#558508322

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

And here: https://www.vesperian.world/

A nightmarish void, nothing to hold onto, your brain completely clogged with madness as you try to survive, soot caked in your mouth as you gasp for breath. If that description sounds pleasurable, then Abyssal Rift and their outright assault of smothering death metal might be for you! The experience is as physical as it is audible. It hurts.

The Columbus-based beasts are back with “Relics of Great Ash,” a perfect name for these six tracks and 36 minutes. This is a battering ram of a record, one that dwells in utter blackness and works harder to dismantle you mentally than you might anticipate. That’s on top of the beating. This second album establishes the band—vocalist/guitarist/synth player/programmer Matt Auxier, bassist/vocalist Mike Sliclen, drummer/percussionist/vocalist Brandon Smith—as a force that deals in complete, darkness, grim doom (not the musical style), and flattening force.

“Consummate Design” starts in a tornadic sprawl, growls buried in the dust, leads flexing as the energy bristles. Things spill into a space void, melting brains and nerve endings, spattering before going into cold chills, guitars dripping away. “Relics of Great Ash” dawns with guitars stinging, howls retching, slowing as riffs fire, and doom waters cover the earth. The pace grinds and trudges, warping with thick chaos, sounds vibrating through the cosmos, destroying mentally and physically. Guitars race and truck, cries smearing, power taunting as the ferocity gathers and rings into oblivion. “The Enlightenment (There Was Never Will)” wafts on black metal fumes, leads swarming and bashing, crushing wills as the machine gears grind guts. Growls choke as the pace rampages, guitars catch fire, and things tun strangely techy, burning out into dust.

“The Death of God” pounds heavily, speeding and daring, trashing with sootiness that gets into your lungs. Growls darken as the guitars storm, keys unfurl as strange majesty, and doomy riffs ignite, spewing oil-thick blood that coats bones. “Surrealistic Visions” races and clobbers, leads confounding and displaying muscle, guitars washing over like a bizarre fog. The pace combusts at its center, guitars clawing and dragging unsuspecting victims, clubbing as the drums unload, compressing chest cavities. Closer “Sphere of Perpetuity” sprawls as the noise bubbles, guitars echo, and the playing stretches, dark filth igniting, the leads staggering wildly. The pace moves slowly, echoing and tripping, eventually bursting at the seams, slipping into different realities. The shadows thicken as the playing bubbles to the surface, growls mauling as the final blasts spit nails.

“Relics of Great Ash” is a molten mind fuck of a record, which is expected at Abyssal Rift’s bone-littered altar. They’re a mighty force that never shows its true face but always draws you into its dark core in order to have your mind warped. This is a grim beating that takes its toll on you and grinds you into the dirt, leaving you gasping. 

For more on the band, go here: https://abyssalrift-label.bandcamp.com/

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

Or here (Europe): https://eu.tometal.com/

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

Getting a strange message from forces deep in outer space sure would put something different into the headlines for once. Our fucking country will probably want to see if they have any crude and attack them. Anyway, you’d think at some point we will hear something substantive from alien life that will make everyone lose the rest of their minds.

For now, we have to settle for “Blood Constellation,” the second EP from Kyrios, a band that seems to have a mainline with forces not yet contacted. In reality, they hail from NYC (sorry to break kayfabe) and haven’t reached out since their 2020 debut “Saturnal Chambers,” and in total, we have about 20 minutes of music total from this band in six years. It doesn’t tell us much about the band—vocalist GK Defenestrator, guitarist/bassist/keyboard player Hypatian, drummer/keyboard player Satan’s Sword—but it gives us a hint as to the weird energies flowing through their collective conscience, and it sets the stage for something more ambitious. But for now, this is a really exciting force that fucks with your mind. The EP is dedicated to the legendary and dearly departed Trevor Strnad, who apparently is former vocalist Vornag.

“Devour Thine Own Son” is a spacey, strange opener, a dungeon synth-flavored passage that sparks the drama, bells chiming and echoing in your brain, everything slipping into weirdness. “A Highborn Sacrifice” tears into flesh and bone, creaky howls haunting as warped melodies make you question reality, icy keys dripping over your brain. Howls wrench as the guitars explode with colors, snarling punishment bends, and everything trudges into a black hole. “Astrophage” I assume is named after the star-destroying alien microbe, and it attacks, techy guitars twisting, flooding your mind as the intensity strangles. The vocals explode as the pace torches, the guitars sprawl all over, and the intensity spikes, encircling and disappearing. Closer “Gifts of the Khaos Gods” is an instrumental piece that dawns as a synth wall, metallic guitars clashing, cosmic confusion multiplying. Everything turns mystical and hypnotic, the keys creating a haze that collides with a seismic gust.

Kyrios inject true extraterrestrial weirdness into “Blood Constellation,” a brief, economical transmission that hints at fresh ideas and perspectives when it comes to death and black metal. Here’s hoping a full-length is next up because as strong as their first two EPs have been, it’ll be interesting to get a full experience. This is bizarre and sticky, something that would be a fine companion as you soar deep into the stars.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://caligarirecords.bandcamp.com/album/blood-constellation

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