I grew up a thrash kid in the 1980s, and that’s always been my first love with extreme music. I was normally on the bus dismantling my hearing with Testament, Nuclear Assault, Overkill, and later on Voivod and Coroner. Yeah, I also heavily indulged in the Big Four, but most of my interest was digging beneath the surface.

Polish maulers Species spark some of that nostalgia in me on their second record “Changelings,” a catchy, mangling dose of progressive thrash metal that hits all the right spots. Over seven tracks and 40 perfectly portioned minutes, the band—vocalist/bassist Piotr Drobina, guitarist Michał Kępka, drummer Przemysław Hampelski—dazzles with their ability, no doubt, but they always remember to tell a story along the way, engaging you mind and body into what they’re doing. It’s spacey and ridiculously flexible but also heavy as hell, providing blistering connection from one era to another one.

“Inspirit Creation” immediately clues you in on what’s ahead, that being mind-bending thrash and shrieky vocals that, if you were into this type of shit in the late 80s and early 90s, your heart is aflutter. Howls scorch as the basslines coil and strike, the guitars later taking on a jazzy tone and reminding a little of Rush before things double back and take down buildings. “The Essence” has the drums kicking in before the guitars sprawl, the melodies encircling as the vocals turn to a feral howl. The bass bubbles as the pace jars, fiery thrash squeezing your temples. “Waves of Time” is smooth, with creaky vocals carving, and then clean singing giving off a psychedelic aura. The pace detonates as the screams buckle, leading to a very techy buildup, speeding and mauling, melodic soloing filling you to the brim. “Voyager” is a cosmic-fueled instrumental piece, whirring keys taking you deep into your imagination, melting through time as the playing floods. The pace then ripples, guitars charging before heading off into the stars.

“Born of Stitch and Flesh” has the guitars activating and screams belting, trudging and combusting as the earth is trampled beneath them. Screams scrape as some cool basslines make the room spin, everything liquifying before guitars unload and mangle, leaving warped scrap metal behind. “Terror Unknown” starts clean before turning proggy, guitars traversing amid acidic screams that char flesh. The leads tangle as the melodies turn more elegant, a metallic fusion mashing elements together, creating an entirely new beast. Closer “Biological Masterpiece” runs a healthy 10:17, beginning with a choppy start/stop that feels like someone hitting the gas and then slamming on the brakes. Once things get under way properly, the atmosphere feels loopy, airy, even as leads are snarling and clean lines are snaking through liquid. The tempo gets more aggressive and bendy, the bass prods, and growls snarl. The energy pushes back as howls gnaw, the speed punishes, and the guitars pinch at exhausted muscle already spasming.

Species is like a shot from the past energized and informed by the last three decades, and pressed into alien devastation. “Changelings” has a true thrash ethos that refuses to stay in that lane and instead travels to every corner of the universe for inspiration. This is thrilling and mind-altering stuff that scratches a very particular itch that hasn’t risen its head in quite some time.  

For more on the band, go here: https://species1.bandcamp.com/music

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

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

In these stressful times, it’s nice to think about something other than global suffering, political unrest, and unending hatred. Sure, it’s impossible to avoid it all the time, but an escape can be nice, right? Especially if you can land in the palm of heavy fucking metal.

Seattle-based power Sölicitör are heavy metal from front to back, from the leather and spikes to the songs packed with retribution and strength to their sound that could easily have lived comfortably four decades ago. On their thunderous second record “Enemy in Mirrors,” the band—vocalist Amy Lee Carlson, guitarist/keyboard player/piano player Matthew Vogan, guitarist Patrick Fry, bassist Damon Cleary-Erickson, drummer Johanson Waymire—still gets into the grit of what makes classic metal so fiery, but they also have refined their approach and added some new texture. None of that betrays their spirit. Instead, it makes for a smoother landing and proves the ability these folks possess over these thunderous 10 tracks.

“The Descent” is an icy, foggy instrumental intro, piano keys falling like freezing rain, synth blazing as we work into “Paralysis,” that starts with guitars surging and Carlson commanding. “I’m losing my mind, I’m out of time,” she wails, washing through a fury, guitars blazing. The leads then go off, leaving you up to your neck in smoke, rippling with energy. “Iron Wolves of War” chugs, the singing commanding, mashing with relentless speed. The leads hammer as they carry a metallic banner, the vocals smother with ferocious thunder, and a blinding pace takes us to the end, where wolves cry out. “Spellbound Mist” is clean and eerie as it enters, and then things ramp up, stomping as Carlson’s powerful voice pushes through, guitars twisting in a fury. Things get faster as the guitars spit fire, the singing rules over everything, and the final moments drip like saline. “We Who Remain” burns in as the guitars charge, the singing belts, and a forceful tempo breaks through walls. Leads then engulf as the powerful chorus enraptures, blistering and leaving your skin brush burned.

“Fallen Angel” opens with the bass leading the charge, then everything tears open, speedy playing making your adrenaline pump. The tempo churns while the soloing leaps into high gear, Carlson’s singing looming large even over a simple chorus that breaks through your chest. “Crimson Battle Beast” stampedes, gang shouts rippling down your spine, Carlson belting, “Time is the enemy, we won’t survive.” Guitars lather as every element rises to the top, ending everything in fury. The title track is hazy at first as the bass tramples, guitars rouse, and the singing sends jolts through your veins. The tempo gets nastier and more devastating as Carlson wails, “The fires of hell are burning bright for me.” “Black Magick and the Devil’s Hand (Part I)” starts in a synth haze before the pace strengthens, and twin leads glaze, giving off a classic metal feel. “Now is the time, vengeance is mine!” Carlson vows as the power combusts, and a key cloud hovers over menacingly. Closer “Black Magick and the Devil’s Hand (Part II)” has charging riffs, a fast pace, and the singing powering everything, Carlson absolutely in the driver’s seat. Twin leads storm as soloing breaks out of that and devastates the senses, power blasts through your system, and birds cawing send you off to ice wounds.

“Enemy in Mirrors” is a sonic step in a slightly different direction for Sölicitör, but one that keeps their spike-covered boots steadily entrenched in classic metal. Admittedly, it took me a few listens to really let this sink in, and once it did, the nuances stood out more, as did their ferocity. This record is perfect for the coming cooler nights when you your hoodies and leather jackets feel just right, and the power of metal is what compels you.

For more on the band, go here: https://solicitor-speedmetal.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://www.cruzdelsurmusic.com/store/

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

And here: https://www.gatesofhellrecords.com/

So many bands call their live shows rituals, and it’s always sounded kind of silly to me. Now and again, the name fits, but usually it’s just a manner of marketing a show that is mostly like seeing any other band live. That’s a descriptor we should preserve for very few acts.

Speaking of which, Portland post-goth/doom band Esses very well could claim that their records, the latest of which is “Pain at the Altar of Jest,” can be called ritualistic. I haven’t seen their live show, but if it’s anything like their recorded output, they can give credence to that word. The band—vocalist/guitarist Kelly Correll, guitarist/lap and pedal steel player John Chap, bassist Scout, drummer Kevin Brown—pours darkness and charisma into these eight tracks and serves as a mesmerizing reminder that there is solace in the shadows. While not metal per se, they can fit snugly along artists such as True Widow, Chelsea Wolfe, Esben and the Witch and others who straddle the line of extremity and are heavy enough to lure interested parties over the line.

“Three Sisters” pounds spiritually, hushed singing haunting, gushing open, guitars churning in the dark. The singing continues to glide and reflect, melting away into dusk. “Mirage Artist” starts with a didgeridoo echoing, which is just as startling on record as it is in real life. Riffs carve as the singing lulls, mesmerizing as a hypnotic pace chills you to the bone. Guitars spiral as noise spreads into a ritualistic pattern, the singing flexes, and the fires finally fade out. “Low” enters amid foggy guitars as the murk dances across desolate highways, the singing luring you deeper into the dream. The chorus exudes darkness, mournful tones sinking in as Correll calls, “You brought me low,” the final notes dripping into nothingness. “A Greene” has guitars numbing as the pace moves slowly, the singing soothing wounds as the drums encircle and crash. The tempo bashes away, slowly burning as the heat rises, bringing on an emotionally devastating finish.

“The Twelfth Thread” has the drums sparking and the bass engaging, the vocals feeling more sinister as the vibe turns tribal. Guitars char edges as the strings stir, the melodies spindling into the void. “The Burrow” floods with jangling riffs and then slide guitar moaning into the night, atmospheric colors spilling purplish hues, the clouds surrounding the senses. The playing storms lightly and then presses, the fog descending as Correll’s voice leads you into strange times. “Cavern of Souls” enters with the bass driving, guitars scuffing, and the singing soaring, the emotion crackling with electricity. Guitars spiral as a gazey fire consumes, Correll noting, “And a cavern of souls dies with me.” Closer “Crackedlands” opens with acoustics and dusty slide guitar, the singing feeling ghostly yet direct, a numbing haze spreading over the top. Warmth flows as Western echoes illuminate mysteries, syrupy guitar slowly blending with the horizon.

“Pain at the Altar of Jest” certainly is a record that is situated in heaviness from a sonic standpoint, but its impact physically and psychologically is just as powerful as the most metallic of records. Esses’ spirit easily gets into your bloodstream and affects the way your imagination operates, and that pushes you into digesting this music differently every time. This is an album that’ll bend your mind and reality, and you’ll be better for it.

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

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

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

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

There were certain things I cannot watch on television while I’m eating because I have a pretty weak stomach when it comes to gross things. Like, I love slasher films, but no way can I enjoy a meal while experiencing one. Forget anything that involves surgery or seeing guts or human waste. Can’t handle it. Never could handle it.

I imagine if the tracks on “Ethereal Emanations from Chthonic Caries,” the new record from grind/death crushers Abraded, instead were presented visually, I would get nauseated quickly. Which is a compliment for this band, and I’m sure they’d take it that way. Carried over from grind legends Hemdale, of which guitarist Patric Pariano was a part, these nine tracks completely disgust and devastate, often sounding like a horror from another world. Rounded out by vocalist Mark Gallon, guitarist Evan Crouse, bassist Brad Moore, and drummer Jon Gonzalez, this record carves to the bone and lets blood pool beneath, leaving the coppery smell burning the inside of your nose.

“Ethereal Emanations” starts clubbing and pulverizing, a complete strangulation of horrors that spills over the entire package. Drums batter as the growls twist flesh, smoking carnage leading to a vicious finish. “Menticide” keeps the assault going, the vocals mangling as animalistic intent rampages, rapid-fire hell served by a machine gun. Heated howls linger as the humidity thickens, the pace coming more unglued as time lapses. “Uroboric Incest” has guitars carving before the pace gets thrashy, splattering as inhuman barks gnaw at your spine. The pace detonates as guttural growls dig for your guts, sickening before disappearing in noxious fumes. “Collectivized Enmeshment” lets guitars smear soot and unhinged growls maul, chugging as the intensity peaks. There is very little room for breathing here as the intensity ramps up dangerously, ending everything with a chokehold. 

“Compensatory Contrarianism” has riffs tingling before the beastliness opens its sinewy jaws, crazed howls making your psychotic state that much worse. Guitars heat and bend as metallic spurts burn, ending in deranged mania. “Theonemesis” brings immediate carnage, wild, malicious wails making matters more volatile, guitars menacing and hacking. Speed clobbers as ugliness leaves spatter on walls no one can hope to clean. “Mass Formation Psychosis” tortures as heated cries dig under nails, drums rampage and destroy, and the guitars lick their chops. I’m still on the drumming here as over the back end it is like a massacre, beating your head into a pulp. “Chthonic Caries” is punchy as growls choke, the tempderature wrecks bodies, and brutal riffs flex decaying muscle. The heat penetrates deeper, turning your organs into cooked meat, crushing unsuspecting souls. Closer “Theodicy” awakens and flattens, the bass coils, and comically crazed screaming makes you feel like you’re losing your mind. Dizzying, maniacal playing jacks up the madness even higher, gross hacking and spitting turning your stomach one final time.

Abraded, for sure, are not for the faint of heart, and “Ethereal Emanations from Chthonic Caries” is bound to make any mental scars only dig deeper. This is gross, furious death and grind meant to ruin your appetite, and it does that over and over again. Don’t say you weren’t warned going in, but if this is your thing, expect to be there a while bathing in stomach acid.

For more on the band, go here: https://abraded-official.bandcamp.com/

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

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

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

As much as I love standing in the back corner of a dark club watching a black metal band flatten time, I still do like to catch more theatrical acts, even if that means going to a big shed to do so. Maiden, for example, spreading their fantastical glory always is something to see, and seeing a spectacle with great visuals can be just as devastating.

They’re not playing arenas quite yet, but Castle Rat belong in the category of bands that deserve to do their thing on a bigger stage, and perhaps their great second record “The Bestiary” will help get them there. If that’s even their ambition. No matter where they play, the band—vocalist/guitarist Riley Pinkerton (The Rat Queen), guitarist Franco Vittore (The Count), bassist Charley Ruddell (The Plague Doctor), drummer Josh Strmic (The Druid)—is sure to stun you with their chainmail, sword play, spat blood, and drama that does not just inhabits their songs. These 13 tracks that spill over 47 minutes explode with vintage metal electricity and charisma that is undeniable, with the story about mythical creatures that exist far from here, and The Wizard trying to preserve the souls that remain.

“Phoenix I” opens with a slurry synth blanket, whispers spreading as the guitars rise, twin leads chewing into dreams, slowly merging into “Wolf I” that explodes with powerful leads and vocals to match. The guitar work blazes as the drums thunder, the verses compelling, the chorus rushing, the energy pulsating. Burnt riffs encircle as the intensity spikes and fades. “Wizard” is dark before the riffs begin to swagger, the singing driving into heat and chugging power, the sleek organs making heads spin. The temperature turns cold as speaking chills, twin leads utterly rule, and the soloing floods the streets. “Siren” arrives amid rousing drums, more killer riffs, and the singing sweltering, guitars chugging before Pinkerton gruffs, “Ooh!” a la Tom Warrior. The pace takes off and thrashes harder, the attack bakes, and the singing rings in your ear. “Unicorns” starts ominously, the singing luring into a psychedelic fever dream, the aura bringing the heat and spindling. The playing is wonderfully mesmerizing in spots, the guitars ramp up more aggressively, and the final moments glisten on the grass. “Path of Moss” is a quick interlude, twin guitars swimming through tributaries, a classic metal feel chilling, the synth sitting in murmur. “Crystal Cave” feels folkish at the start, softer singing landing as the sentiment feels mind-bending. Power kicks in as the drama flourishes, a daring tempo makes blood jolt, and then strings rouse, giving off a classic New Age 1970’s atmosphere.

“Serpent starts with the drums galloping, fiery riffs causing impact, and Pinkerton’s voice making the fantasy vibe come to life. Keys melt as the guitars tangle, the chorus acting as a strong center point, bluesy soloing taking over and aggravating the flames. “Wolf II” starts with acoustics, the melody lines a subtler reflection of the first part of this song from earlier in the record. Blood streaking through wolves’ teeth makes the song feel more deadly and feral, the strings glazing. Clouds collect in a canopy, guitars chime, and the singing ripples as if moving between dimensions. “Dragon” has smoking guitars and a spirit that stomps through the room, the singing flexing its muscles as the humidity spills. The playing is energetic and catchy, dashing through the air, slowly tightening its grip on your neck. “Summoning Spell” basks in noise and more delicate singing, a castle fantasy playing out in front of you as Pinkerton’s voice interplays with the strings. The melodies drizzle and flutter, the bass thickening before everything turns to ashes. “Sun Song” pulls you in with Pinkerton’s voice, the playing buzzing and going grungy, the force gutting and chugging. The guitars electrify as the attitude catapults, the drums pummeling through wiry riffs, guitars scorching, the final smoldering moments slashing. Closer “Phoenix II” is a final, quiet coda, acoustics and mellotron numbing, hazy golden rays warming your flesh.

“The Bestiary” takes metal back to an era when fantasy and storytelling were at the forefront of the genre, back before there were subgenre distinctions. Castle Rat commit all the way, on stage and on record, and it’s impossible not to get completely swept up in the stories they’re telling. This is metal that remembers to be fun, approaches with a sword of fire, and takes you down with them, your heart pounding the entire time.  

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

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

And here: https://castlerat.bandcamp.com/album/the-bestiary

Or here (Europe): https://bluesfuneralrecordings.bandcamp.com/album/the-bestiary

And here: https://kingvolume.8merch.com/

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

And here: https://www.bluesfuneral.com/

I just saw an interview the other day with John Oates, and when asked if he thought he’d ever reunite with Daryl Hall, he said he didn’t it would be a good idea because they could not recapture that magic. It made me thankful that so many of the metal pioneers are staying at it, putting out strong music, and continuing to dominate the stage.

Chicago metal legends Novembers Doom have been going at it for 36 years now, and good thing this institution has remained standing and strong, as evidenced by their 12^th album “Major Arcana.” Taking influence from tarot (the album title and some of the song titles should make that apparent) and divination, the band—vocalist Paul Kuhr, guitarists Larry Roberts and Vito Marchese, bassist Mike Feldman, drummer Garry Naples—delivers a powerful performance, mixing doom, goth rock, and death metal into 10 cuts that keep you fully engaged. Ben Johnson also provides keyboards on all tracks, and Kuhr’s daughter Rhiannon provides backing vocals on three tracks. This is a legendary band operating at the top of their game, and this album is a morbid force from front to back.

“June” is a frosty opener despite its title, piano dripping as cold singing laments damage caused by the month in question, leading to the title track that trudges with might. This piece has a lot going on, and it’s one you have to follow down several pathways. “How long have I been gone?” Kuhr wonders as the light and dark push and pull, bleeding through sorrow and pain, grim singing and growling pushing into the distance. “Ravenous” pummels, the howls gutting, the chorus mauling as Kuhr wails, “I will devour you and leave nothing to chance.” The battering continues as subtle organs lather, guitars unload, and the heat increases, nastiness sinking in its teeth as the final rampage settles. “Mercy” is more vulnerable, cold winds and clean singing sending chills, wrenching every ounce of your sympathetic nerves. “Please hold me until I’m gone,” Kuhr pleads, the guitars engulfing as moodiness spikes and strings glaze over a dramatic finish. “The Dance” has blurring keys and an autumnal blaze, gothy singing pouring molasses, Kuhr stating over the chorus, “It’s time to vanish without a trace.” The growl dig in, the playing stirring smoke and blackness which leaves a thick film.

“The Fool” is fiery, growls mauling, a deathly attack headed right for the guts as a lover’s betrayal hangs in the balance, Kuhr calling, “You gave it away.” The playing drubs as the guitars encircle, blistering with harsh intent, scorn flowing through veins. “Bleed Static” runs 8 minutes and is clean and rhythmic out front, creaky speaking gnawing on bone, Kuhr urging, “I won’t survive this, save me.” The playing is sorrowful and rich, clean guitars trickling before taking off, soloing melting metal. The vocals then wash in echo, the chorus pulls back and thickens the shadow, and defeat slowly merges with the blistering static. “Chatter” has guitars churning and gruff singing, the chorus leaving bruises both physically and mentally. “I’m so desperate, I believe all your lies,” Kuhr levels, the playing bashing heads together, the endless pain creating a like-minded ghost with which to commiserate. “Dusking Day” enters amid cold keys before detonating, getting grislier as the playing carries on, gothy singing paying more weight to the misery and neglect. A blazing push guides the blade between your ribs, the growls throttle, and the final blows blacken eyes. Closer “XXII” is wash in Armageddon, a dark, foreboding final chapter that walks into blurring guitars and sinister howls. “In the shadow of a dying star, echoes of the final sun,” Kuhr wails, guitars blazing, the mouth of eternity gaping, everything fading into ash.

“Major Arcana” is another heavy chapter in Novembers Doom’s more than three decades of metallic devastation, again proving their might and resolve in a physically and mentally battered world. There is no shortage of inspiration for these guys, and they seem as channeled and powerful as ever, with these 10 tracks standing as evidence. This band has nothing left to prove, which has been the case for a long time. But they don’t see it that way, and their art pushes boundaries and refuses to be anything but volcanic.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/NovembersDoom1989

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/novembersdoom-arcana

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

I would imagine having a large body of work that has some solid definition over a long period time can both be easy to continue and also hard to navigate. There are bands that never change their formula and have long, illustrious careers. There are probably as many that can’t sit still in one territory and always have to shift and change to stay happy.

Texas-based power Krigsgrav kind of fall in the middle of those two distinctions. Over seven records, they’ve kept black metal as a base but also have branched beyond that enough to keep everything fresh and vital. They never deliver a curveball that’s so outside the zone that it’s uncomfortable to manage. On their eighth album “Stormcaller,” they made a concerted effort to bring in elements from every era and record the band—vocalist/guitarist Justin Coleman, guitarist Cody Daniels, bassist Wes Radvansky, drummer/clean vocalist David Sikora—has unleashed, and over eight tracks and 52 minutes, they continue to smear their ethos in blood. The music is relentless and volcanic, but there are doomy pockets, stormy melodies, and harrowing cliffs that keep you fully engaged, even on subsequent listens. There’s always something compelling around the corner.

“Huntress of the Fire Moon” opens in a melodic gush, the playing hammering away as shrieks ravage, twin leads feeling like a guiding light in a downpour. The atmosphere gets cloudier before riffs again are twisting brains, fiery chaos rains down, and howls stab into a glorious end. The title track gusts and crushes, savagery at every corner, great leads commanding as howls smear into a vicious thrust. The intensity feels like staring a blast furnace in the face, clean lines slipping under the damage, crawling out into the rain. “Twilight Fell” is brutal and sorrowful, the riffs coating with blood as the growls menace. An airy burst fills your lungs as screams curdle and the pace pounds, elegant leads cascading as everything slowly fades. “None Shall Remember Your Name” runs 7:32 with the bass leading in, chugging, spacious playing opening up the space, and then twin leads blazing, aiming to gut you. Clean singing numbs before Coleman’s barks belt, the playing taking on a more technical feel, but in a way where you can feel a heart beating. Acoustics give brief respite before the force returns, blistering with hazy guitars, speaking mesmerizing, and beastly howls leaving you buried. 

“Bay of the Barghest” is murky to start before the thorns scrape, slashing through melodic pathways, the clean singing and charred screams turning into ideal partners. Guitars beam as the tempo grows faster and pretty catchy, bursting as speed and storms unite, blazing before finally subsiding. “The Tonic of Wilderness” stirs with relentless power, howls menacing, and a strong charge getting your blood flowing as the misery tightens its grip. Beastly growls incinerate as the leads activate, cleaner calls drain ash, and an animalistic force runs the back end into a brick wall. “Ghosts” has guitars dripping and stretching, shrieks overwhelming, and then the pace hitting a sprint, melting into a sea of melody. Leads jar as the energy spits, howls storm, and leads slice tributaries into flesh. Closer “Womb:Death:Dawn” runs 8:33 and hangs in the air after dawning, a doomier approach pushing this into darkness, solemn heaviness flooding as the emotion floods. The drums kick up as the playing gets sludgier, keys and static unite and poke eardrums, and then the guitars rule with an acidic assault. The leads envelop and chug as dreariness sets in, a final thrashing destroying and fading into mystery.

“Stormcaller” is an effort to unite every era of Krigsgrav and send them into a fiery future, and it pretty much succeeds at every turn. It’s heavy, unforgiving, melodic, morose, and apocalyptic, the perfect album for times that hang in the balance. Nothing is certain other than Krigsgrav always will push their art to the limit and demand you take the ride with them. It’ll be a rocky, violent journey, and you’ll come out of the other side galvanized.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.willowtip.com/store/default.aspx

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

There’s a lot of noise going on outside, plenty to disrupt your well-being, especially mentally. Even doing something as simple of checking your social media account or trying to decipher what’s being reported on the news can be too much, and I definitely understand how unhealthy that can be.

So, there’s little to quell our worries outside our doors, so perhaps turning inward to address that chaos and pain can begin to help a little bit. German black metal power Der Weg Einer Freiheit focus on those matters on their incredible new record “Innern,” which is German for “inward.” Here, the band—vocalist/guitarist Nikita Kamprad, guitarist Nicolas Rausch, bassist Alan Noruspur, drummer Tobias Schuler—turns their gears toward taking on what’s going on inside, trying to quiet the madness, and finding reflection and renewal. They do address the matters in our society that grind us to a pulp, but with a compassionate hand, tempering all of that with some of the most imaginative and immersive music of their entire careers.

Marter” is the 9:24-long opener and begins in a haze before ramping up, the drums bustling, howls tearing as a melodic fury engulfs everything. We then go from atmospheric right to the acidic belly of the beast, the pace shifting as guitars surge, the emotion calming for a brief respite as doom gusts into the picture. The playing hammers again, the energy rushes as growls gut, and the final moments slowly batter away. “Xibalba” is even longer at 10:07, a savage, daring attack overwhelming, growls marring as the storm grows blacker and hungrier. Even amid the chaos, there are fantastical elements that feel not of this world that join up with an increasingly boiling pace that eventually gives way to a synth sheen. Things feel equally trudging and dreamy as the guitars jar to a close. “Eos” is a real centerpiece gem, a song that starts off feeling progressive and wondrous, a hulking riff moving in and making the song its own, sticking in your brain. Vocals buzz as the playing mangles, beastly blistering leaving festering wounds, melodies swirling as clean singing arrives, increasing the drama and fading in calculated manner.

“Fragment” wooshes in and brings more delicate strains, cleaner singing swirling in the surrounding air, the fires eventually erupting and aiming to consume. Screams pierce and stretch as the playing journeys through the cosmos, destroying and dismantling worlds, bleeding right into instrumental cut “Finisterre III.” This is a continuation of a piece that was introduced two albums ago, the second installment of which appeared on their last record. This brings dripping piano and gathering mists, fog and elegance, and a gentle closing that sets the stage for closer “Forlorn.” Plucked guitars sting before eeriness spreads generously, clean singing bringing a pillowy nature, softer bass plodding as things feel oddly New Wave to a degree. Guitars then scuff as shrieks hammer, colorful playing heads into a pit of moodiness, and the calls of, “Please don’t let me go,” add to the introspection. The pressure builds and melts, warm synth floods, and alien swirl dissolves in air.

“Innern” offers a chance to escape with this music and take time for self-reflection and evaluation amid all of the upheaval surrounding us. We are not immune to that pressure, and Der Weg Einer Freiheit are fully aware, with their storminess and power continually exposing those truths and taking an inventory of oneself. While brutal and metallic, it also is a human record, one with compassion and awareness that flows through its every pore. 

For more on the band, go here: https://derwegeinerfreiheit.de/

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://shopusa.season-of-mist.com/list/der-weg-einer-freiheit-innern

Or here (international): https://shop.season-of-mist.com/list/der-weg-einer-freiheit-innern

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

I’ve been thinking about eternal damnation a lot lately, not that I’m worried about the concept; I’m amused at how many people who claim to be “of god” will end up there if it’s real. Like, a comical amount. Wondering where we might go from here if there is something beyond this plane can keep people awake at night, and we have no idea what’s there.

Ridiculously prolific black metal confounders Esoctrilihum take you on some demented trip elsewhere with every record, and on, “Ghostigmatah – Spiritual Rites of the Psychopomp Abxulöm,” sole creator Asthâghul’s latest under this banner, we enter the afterlife. According to the bio, “The album is divided into four chapters, each of which tells a ritual stage in the long journey of dead souls towards the jaws of the 8-eyed psychopomp Abxulöm, who will finally deliver them to eternal nothingness.” I hate a cut-and-paste job as much as the next guy, but how can I possibly summarize that in my own words? Anyway, Asthâghul continues his mesmerizing black metal path and adds more sounds including theremin, harp, kantele, and hammered dulcimer, deepening the mythology and what’s possible with your imagination.

“Hark! The Bewitched Trumpet of the Red Harbinger Is Calling the Dead to Gather” blasts open with delirium, synth bathing with strangeness as throaty wails pummel, a weird fantasy feel floating through the keys. The tempo strengthens its grip as the screams get more shrill, the playing going cold, clean, gothy singing stirring incantations. The chants chill as fevered stomps rattle, bizarre emanations floating into space. “Kneeling Before the Keeper of the Golden Key to the Absolute Void” ruptures, organs raining down, the howls warping as darkened thrash shakes bones loose. The hypnosis digs in deeper alongside more orchestral elements, a synth sheet darting ahead, sounds shooting through shadows as gnarly growls bring violent change. The playing gets catchier as the keys send horrors, eerie singing leading into a dramatic finish. “At The Mercy of the Flaming Spear of the Bestial Hierophant” smashes and churns as the riffs spiral and the keys smear. The mood is dizzying as hearty cries and clean singing unite, blurring and disorienting, tornadic chaos blasting into rubbery bass. “Flesh Pierced by the Blades of Thritônh, Eyes Devoured by Vulth Suidarl, the Giant Fly,” is metallic and leaves that taste in your mouth, the strings glowing as hypnosis encircles, shrieks belting as the atmosphere demands total immersion. The playing ramps up as crazed growls punish, and dizzying sludge makes the footing impossible, melting into madness. “Hypnotic Danse Macabre of the Blind Noctivagants” opens with acoustics dashing, the growls gnawing as hammered dulcimer sets an ancient tone. Growls echo as the guitars chug harder, strange clean singing haunting, the strings penetrating, the tempo crushing faces.

“Orgiastic Sacrificial Mass to Conjur Abxulöm, Psychopomp Supreme” is sinister and heavy, the growls crawling down your back, vicious sentiment working alongside alien pastoral chants. Sounds swarm as the growls rake nails down cosmic chalkboards, all elements entering a stormfront, the singing warbling as the door closes. “Saturnal Towers of the Mighty Scarlet Moon Upon the Black Universe” is numbing as the symphonic strains increase bodily temperatures, mangling cries punching holes in your psyche. All of the strings cause hellish drama, the attack getting sinister, tearing open a hole from another dimension for unknown horrors to enter ours. “The Cosmic Deathbringer Comes, Riding a Bloody Horse of Goshenite” drills into your brain, ugly, hellish vocals pouring previously unseen colors into a growing nightmare. The playing trudges and smashes, the growls breathing fire and leaving psychological wounds behind, a thrashy assault bleeding into a grisly ending. “Mauled, Swallowed and Dissolved Into Nothingness By the 8-Eyed Psychopomp” is melodic as hell out of the gates, with higher calls making nerve endings activate, and theremin pressing a ghostly presence into the creation. Growls encircle as phantasms vibrate, layers of frost accumulating and making your body shake uncontrollably, the guitars jolting. The leads scuff as the heat singes, tortured cries ringing in your ears, the exhaust lifting and letting light into the room. Closer “Supplication of the Veiled Saint From the Secret Book of the Ghostigmatah Rites” starts with strings glistening and whispers darting through the air, settling into a dream state. The delicacy slowly erodes as savage howls join the fray, sounds jangling, the ferocity disappearing into an acidic sun.

Every Esoctrilihum record is an experience that demands time and effort on your part, and “Ghostigmatah – Spiritual Rites of the Psychopomp Abxulöm” provides plenty of material for your undivided attention. This is a fully immersive experience, one that can damage and salt wounds at times, but taking this on as a whole provides a much more immersive mission than if you break it into chunks. Asthâghul’s ambitions know no bounds, and he’s willing to push you to the limit and beyond to connect with his ritualistic vision.

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

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

Or here (Europe): https://metalodyssey.8merch.com/record-label/i-voidhanger-records/

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

It feels like utter hell here in the United States, what with fascism and the constant barrage of bullshit, but there are hellscapes where parts of the world are being torn apart, and survival from one day to the next hardly is guaranteed. Imagine trying to create something meaningful and impactful when bombs are falling all around you.

Ukrainian metal force Heruvim are in the middle of a warzone, and the idea they could put together a full-length record under those circumstances is perverse. Yet we have “Mercator,” the band’s first full-length album, a seven-track, 30-minute bruiser that breathes chaotic life into death metal. The band—vocalist/guitarist Nefarious, guitarist Kick Flis, bassist Hot Rod—had to create this album as their country is at war. They risked conscription, fighting, and death, crossing borders to make this happen. You’d think this would sound frenzied and punishing, and it does, but it also bursts with energy and life as if they’re determined to survive no matter what hell they experience.

“Mysterium Tremendum” starts with guitars crushing, twisting at muscle, sooty, snaking riffs going in and out of pools of blood. The carnage takes a break to turn mystifying, letting you breathe before the powder keg erupts, guitars swim through humidity, and the growls wrench your neck. “Nulla Res” delivers spidery leads, a confounding pathway forward, howls that tear at the flesh, and a pace that jerks you around and into walls. The playing thrashes even harder, upping the ante, bludgeoning with relentless ferocity. “Gnosis” brings the guitars to a boil, decimating as the vocals ravage, chaotic damage being served in generous portions. The playing leans into atmospheric heat as the leads gains some warmth, and everything turns to dust.

“Arammu” has a more techy open that aims to melt brains, and the guitars begin their exploration, howls carving passageways as the torment gets thicker. A strange psychedelic cloud hangs overhead as growls retch, rubbery guitar work punishes, and the final strains bleed into brief interlude “VII.” This feels like a strange isolation in an alien world, a robotic voice repeating Gorgias’ tenets about existence and knowledge. The title track bludgeons, wrecking and dizzying, the howls smashing as the pace grows more volatile. Blood rushes as the bass trudges, synth bristling, the heat spiking and fading. Closer “Lacrimae Rerum” has guitars cascading, growls swelling, and fast-strike leads taking over your imagination. The tempo chunks as the guitars add more excitement, howls darken, and things gradually fade into an increasingly uncertain darkness.

The ravages of war and the uncertainty of survival certainly inform “Mercator,” even if the lyrical content heads into more imaginative and psychologically stimulating territory. Heruvim put their lives on the line to make this record, which cannot be overstated, and the result is a strong, steady debut full-length that also leaves room to grow. Hopefully matters grow less volatile in their homeland (we’re not holding our breath, but we can hope) and that this can be a building block to a future that’s violent only from a metallic standpoint. 

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

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

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

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