Cavernlight unearth misery, pain of existence in a damaged world on ‘As I Cast Ruin Upon…’

Photo by Scott Burns

Pain and disillusionment have become far too etched into our DNA as people to be able to live peacefully, accept small failures, and try to meaningfully treat mental wounds that never seem to heal. It’s almost like we’re preconditioned to this life, and when we have to deal with our own shortcoming as humans, it all becomes too much. Where is the value for us?

Hopefully no one shows up for a Cavernlight record for a pick-me-up jolt, but leaning into their soul-crushing second album “As I Cast Ruin Upon the Lens That Reveals My Every Flaw” is a confrontation with the void that might be impossible to overcome. Over eight tracks and about 40 minutes, the band—Scott Burns (guitars, vocals, lyrics, programming, violin, accordion), Caleb Cheslock (guitar, vocals), Brandon James (bass, piano),  Adam Bartlett (drums, vocals, lyrics)—examines the endless tire fire that is trying to exist fruitfully and productively in the midst of so much misery, hatred, crimes, pestilence, and death. Even when one takes their own self-inventory, trying to make those improvements we all crave still exists in a place that’s always going to try to cut us off at the knees.

“Accepting the Fate I’ve Crafted” begins about as dourly as possible with the music slowly dawning and a voice warbling, “I hate feeling like shit all the time, I’m sensitive to light and sound, I’m so empty, lonely, I have nothing.” It goes on from there and gets no more positive as ominous howls join the mix, and the mood crushes wills. The wails melt, pain and hopelessness thrive, and the howl of, “Everything that feeds this life will vanish,” puts a devastating exclamation point at the end. “Gaze Into the Glow and Drift Into Time” arrives with strange noises and the drums eventually kicking through walls, then the growls scrape away flesh as the punishment builds. The playing thickens and bleeds through every pore, and electronic corrosion meets and eats away at any bone fragments remaining. “Material” sparks as howls rush, and the blackness spreads across the sky, darkening the earth. Electro pulses shift as the riffs rip out muscle, and then everything stumbles upon a dank path, the cries of, “No mystical, no spiritual, no supernatural,” eliminating any hope that faith could save you. “A Shimmering View” wallows in hell and a haze of dream as the call of, “I make sincere attempts to engage and interact with the world, but most days feel like I’m watching it all through a shimmer, a reflection,” adding to the emotional tumult. It feels like being lost in a mist before the sludge thickens and bubbles, the power slices back, and everything comes to an ominous end.

“The Ashes of Everything I’ve Failed to Be” smashes your sense as it arrives, mixing clean calls and menacing shrieks, the playing mauling completely until a cold front arrives. The guitars liquify and slither, scathing whispers crawl down your spine, and then everything bursts anew, piling on top of you, destroying with impenetrable heat. The title track does damage right off the bat, vile howls jab under the ribcage, and cold rains soak you, leaving you shaking and shivering beyond your control. “This dungeon of puss and piss, it oozes, and it drips, and it gathers around my feet, it cannot stand, these walls will crumble,” doesn’t brighten the mood, and fiery doom get thicker and meaner, blood rushes to the surface, and a disorienting soundscape devours everything whole. “Prelude” is a quick track, a scene setter as it were that’s hypnotic and spacey, the detached voice returning as she confesses, “This is all big mistake we call life, this isn’t living, it is a lazy proof of existence. Where is the sense of being?” “To Reconcile a Virulent Life” is the closer, and just when you think you can take no more, you’re given no choice as the bottom drops, and the riffs encircle and dement your mind. Heaviness mixes with more delicate sounds, not so much as a power struggle but as a way to coexist in pain. Shrieks and growls pay off the devastation, sounds are break down into dust, and distortion blends into moaning human agony, the final words, “I don’t want to live anymore,” burying positivity forever.

Cavernlight haven’t minced words or used kid gloves when conveying crippling depression and terminal hopelessness, and they layer that thick on, “As I Cast Ruin Upon the Lens That Reveals My Every Flaw.” If you only learned of the band just now, that title alone should give you an indication as to what lies ahead, but even that isn’t preparation enough. This is an emotional chasm informed by scars that only get uglier, stress that suffocates, and suffering so severe it can’t even be soothed temporarily.

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

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

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

PICK OF THE WEEK: Vital Spirit shed light on history, warfront with bloody debut ‘Still As the Night…’

We’re closing put the week with more bloody history involving this country, the United States if you’re not aware, and some of the atrocities that led to death and destruction of native and indigenous people who lived in the United States and North America. Deadly clashes took place for about 150 years, with the people who inhabited this land in the first place defeated with their country taken from them.

That’s a rudimentary explanation, and it would take a lot more space than we have to get into all of that. Canadian black metal duo Vital Spirit aren’t here to necessarily give a history lesson on debut full-length album “Still as the Night, Cold as the Wind,” but the band goes back to specific struggles during this time period and flesh them out with their devastating sound. Multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Kyle Tavares (Seer, Wormwitch) and drummer Israel Langlais (also of Wormwitch) also smear a hefty dose of Western nostalgia and Americana strains to these songs, making it feel cinematic and atmospheric in a way that can make you dream of dusty trails and midnight gazing. The band covers events including Battle of Blanco Canyon, Taos Revolt, Long Walk of the Navajo, and Red River War in an exploratory and riveting manner, possibly sending you to learn more about the events behind these tracks that quake with fire. On the record, the band also is joined by cellist Christopher Brown (Kakophonix, Osi and the Jupiter) who provides crucial added texture.

“Blood and Smoke” kicks off with a total explosion, shrieks firing away, melodic rage becoming a greater force with every second it consumes. Acoustics bring a brief respite of calm before a steely Western vibe grows larger, horns calling out the feeling of vintage cowboy fire. “Bad Hand” ignites with savagery as the shrieks maul and scalding guitars leave burns across your flesh. The guitars pick up the intensity as the storms rage dangerously, the guitars churning and dripping out with moody strings. “Dawn of Liberty” stomps hard as it opens, the growls thundering and gutting, the playing consumed by carnage. The playing turns energetic and catchy, aligning with your bloodstream and delivering echo very much triggering Ennio Morricone haunting. Then the pace charges anew, shrieks cave skulls, and the drums decimate, ending in an ashen pile. “The Long Walk” taps in, guitars begin to light up, and the fires are stoked as a mammoth riff makes ripples in the earth. A combo of shrieks and growls batter while the rampage swells, halting ever so briefly before strings lather, chimes ring, and the sparks leans into the thick cloud cover.

“Withering Fire” smashes through the gates, the guitars rise and char, and the atmosphere suddenly grows more intense as the band thrashes heavily. The guitars explore space as notes ring out in your ears, and the final moments get your heart racing before the track disappears into the air. “Saccharine Sky” is a wondrous thing, a track that feels like it basks in dusty ethos of eras past, the moody noir feeling like carving out a cowboy’s heart. Strings stretch, horns echo in the distance, and the psychedelic elements drip like saline solution into your body. “White Eyes” is animalistic and vicious as it arrives, storming across the land and grabbing anything not nailed down into its tornadic gust. The drums rush as the shrieks spike your skull, the guitars leave you hopelessly dizzy, and melodies spit lasers and bowed strings into your mind. Closer “Lord of the Plains” starts clean and easy before the riffs aggravate wounds, and the heavy melodies mount their attack. Vile growls pull teeth as the heat briefly subsides before the temperatures rocket back to unmanageable levels. The riffs tangle your veins, vicious howls exact heavy damages, and acoustics and strings take over the pressure, lulling you into a cold front that soothes your wounds and lets you have a gasp of peace.

Vital Spirit’s enthralling debut “Still as the Night, Cold as the Wind” is a landmark effort for the smattering of bands lately that have paid honor to the West, bringing glistering dreams from the past soaked in blood and pain. This record unloads from the start, but it has so much texture and wonder, ideas that leave you dreaming about a time long past that remain a heavy part of this continent’s DNA. This record totally consumed me the first time I heard it, and each subsequent visit has allowed my mind to wander into newer terrain, the music and themes feeling richer and bolder along the way.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://linktr.ee/vital_spirit

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

And here: https://www.hiddentribe.ca/

Tzompantli use doom, death to pay homage to indigenous tribes, people on debut ‘Tlazcaltiliztli’

Photo by Elena Chute

The treatment of native and indigenous people on the North American content has been hideous at best, something that barely was taught in school as I was growing and took me into college before some of those layers were peeled back. We still have one quite descpicable holiday and another that’s laughable at best that goes to show time hasn’t smartened everyone, and wounds remain open.

California-based maulers Tzompantli are a force that will not let native history lie still, and they pay fiery and emotional remembrance on their combustible debut full-length album “Tlazcaltiliztli.” The band—vocalist/guitarist Huey Itztekwanotl o))) (also of Xibalba and Mortuary Punishment) and bassist G-Bone—took their name from a rack used to display skull of enemies or sacrifices, and the album title is from a ritual ceremony that nourishes the fire and sun with blood. This record is deep with bludgeoning doom and death metal with native and folk instruments used to conjure a proper aura for this offering to people and tribes of every directional reach of this entire continent.

“Yaohuehuetl” is a quick instrumental intro cut with drums echoing, whistles wailing, and an ambiance being achieved before working into “Tlatzintilli” that begins cleanly and hazy. The pace drives slowly while the vocals add thick menace, and then everything ignites, doom fire raging with life. The growls lurch as the pace burns in place, heavy atmosphere fills your head, and clean lines hypnotize, leaving your mind in a vortex. “Tlazcaltiliztli” starts with muddy guitars and the growls scraping the earth, leaving crunched bones behind in a pile. Wild howls deliver bloody hell that is right at your heels, and the bludgeoning and mauling peak before ending in a pile of ash.

“Eltequi” begins with drums encircling, woodwinds generating a ghostly aura. The chants explode, the acoustics rush, and a spirited haze sweeps you up, bringing blackened rains and muck, this instrumental piece ending in the dirt. “Ohtlatocopailcahualuztli” moves in with wafting guitars before the playing unloads, the heaviness increasing by the second. The growls hammer away, and then a brief respite moves in, allowing a sense of relief until the guitars detonate and move into a soaking mist before meeting with the horizon. “Tlamanalli” is guttural with the growls crushing necks and a black metal-style assault moving forward, streaking with darkness. A brief cavernous section leads to more skullduggery, slow-driving and furious playing increases the bruising, and the final moments are pounded into stone. Closer “Yaotiacahuanetzli” slowly dawns as doom sprawls, the storm thickens, and everything comes apart, slashing away as your skeletal structure. Guitars cut through the murk as the heat becomes impossible to survive, sorrowful leads drag blood across the sky, and then everything dissolves into the distance, its spirit inhabiting the earth.

Tzompantli have a grim inspiration for their name, but one that pays homage to their ancestry and native/indigenous themes that make up their DNA. The songs on “Tlazcaltiliztli” are for their people and nation who have made up every part of the American continent and whose blood and bone are forever a part of our land mass. Their death and doom mix is mighty, bloody, and the perfect way to tribute those who paved the way for this duo and millions of people history often tries to forget.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.20buckspin.com/search?type=product&q=TZOMPANTLI

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

Psyche-doom power Ufomammut rewire and regroup, create slim, trim brawler in hypnotic ‘Fenice’

Photo by by Francesca De Franceschi Manzoni

I have a strange relationship with marijuana, and I should preface this isn’t intended to be some stoner piece that travels through the layers of drug use and heavy music. Instead, it’s more about calming my anxiety so that the effects of marijuana don’t undo me mentally, and I have combined ending my day with noise-canceling headphones and music to enhance my experience. I know. Groundbreaking.

I have found some records the past few weeks that really enhance my experience, and one is “Fenice,” the new album from longtime personal favorite Ufomammut, the Italian psyche-doom travelers. They have been in a similar mind frame as so many of us, trying to put together the pieces of disarray that could have undone us had we lacked strength. But for this band—guitarist/effects master Poia, bassist/vocalist/effects maker/synth player Urlo, drummer/effects wizard Levre, sound lord Ciccio—they learned from their past recording experiences and got back to their true essence, what really makes their spacey magic work the way it does. Over six tracks and an economical 38 minutes, the band captures your mind again, taking you on a mystical sojourn that, if you’re enjoying the effects of substances, will land even harder.

“Duat” opens the record and is the longest track at 10:34, sounds ringing out and static increasing. Strange blips reverberate as the guitars join in, a psychedelic trail blazed across the earth as the track trudges and punishes in the cosmos, ripping open and letting synth waves crash. The pace picks up as the bass flexes and chugs, and mystical energies combine with your own and are swallowed into the void. “Kepherer” is a quick instrumental, more of a bridge track that delivers echoed beats, static crawling through your mind, and the drums pulsating, working into “Psychostasia” and its hazy, impenetrable murk. Guitars float as the vocals search the stratosphere, deathrock vibes liquify the track in spots, and then things combust, making the journey a little rockier. The playing speeds up and jolts, the vocals power, and the final moments sizzle into vapor.

“Metamorphoenix” enters in a sonic buzz, voices warbling as the song slowly thaws. The playing carries through the air and into your dreams as hypnosis sinks in heavily, looping and repeating as it collides with “Pyramind” that delivers a crushing psychedelic assault on your senses. Voices echo as things plod purposefully, playing with fuzz, numbing your muscles before the intensity increases. A renewed push brings a bludgeoning force and fire, and that adds to the wilting steam and melds into closer “Empyros” that lands amid a quaking that’s joined in progress. Smashing and scraping, spacey synth swirls into your consciousness, fires lick the storm clouds, and everything spirals off into the mystery forever, leaving your nervous system tingling and challenged.

“Fenice” is a rebirth for a band that’s made some of the headier, most immersive doom and psychedelic power over their run, and it’s clear Ufomammut are ablaze again creatively and mentally. We’ve all had to find ways to restart our lives the past year or so as a sense of normalcy slowly has returned, and the energy we give off hopefully is positive and can lead to our own fuels burning cleaner. This is a record you can enjoy at any point—working, reading, traveling, enjoying some choice substances—and each setting makes for a completely different experience with this album.  

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

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

Or here: https://www.supernaturalcat.com/home/store/

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

Dream collaboration teams up Thou, Mizmor in a catastrophic union with thundering ‘Myopia’

I have a Google doc file that has my entire review calendar recorded, and right now, we have entries into July. It’s an easy way to stay on top of things and not let anything slip under the radar, because there are so many releases every week, there’s no other way to stay sane. Then fucking Gilead Media comes along. Again! And ruins the entire things. For one week, anyway.

Last week, as Roadburn was getting under way, Gilead dropped a goddamn bomb in our laps with the immediate arrival of “Myopia,” the collaborative effort combining Thou and Mizmor, almost the equivalent of Okada and Tanahashi teaming up in New Japan for the dream team to end them all. By the way, this album is available digitally right now, with physical media to follow. This eight-track, 73-minute beast is the perfect amalgamation of both bands, a true combination of each spirit into something that exists because as absolute shit as the world has been, sometimes it gives us gifts that make the misery worthwhile. Thou’s grungy doom and Mizmor’s scathing black metal live in perfect damaged harmony, and while they don’t unlock a ton of closed doors, they combine their storming energies into something that never existed before and now has left us shaken to dust.

“Prefect” starts this mammoth set as it burns initially before coming unglued. Shrieks storm as Mizmor’s A.L.N. takes the first go, the band ripping hard to damaged melody. Thou’s Bryan Funck joins the fray as the track slowly rumbles, feeling like everything is settling as exhaust. “Subordinate” dawns as feeling very much from the Thou playbook, the leads gathering as everything grows more colossal by the moment. The sound bleeds as the shrieks scrape against walls, mangled howls bring additional muscle, and clean notes add a foggy end to a balmy display. “Drover of Man” begins feeling panicked, the melodies flexing as the shrieks gut, and the ambiance feels sorrowful and emotionally heavy. Cold tributaries line the path as chaos bubbles and the growls ensnare, feeling deathlike before the aura gets burlier. The vocals rip back with harshness, the drums set off, and a final bludgeoning sinks the blade deep into your heart. “The Host” is gloomy when it arrives with A.L.N.’s voice powering through the thickness, guitars shimmering as they begin to gain momentum. Feedback hangs like a drubbing storm, Funck’s growls begin to lurch, and the playing heads for your throat, tearing away flesh before clean guitars settle and end this mania in a sense of earned solace.

“Indignance” begins in an oppressive ambiance, the guitars melt, and everything bursts with life as Funck’s growls agitate your already swelling flesh. The vocals combine as corrosion takes hold, the drums destroy, and Funck’s howls explode with menace, following glimmering guitars into the eye of a storm that fades over the distance. “Manifold Lens” slowly jolts as the leads begin to take shape, and Funck’s vocals carve away at you, stretching its heavy cloud cover and scorching with power. Guitars tangle as a doom pall gets meaner, A.L.N.’s vocals dig into you, and slow-moving pulverizing takes over everything, wrenching and glowing prior to being consumed by flames. The title track kicks off the final 20 minutes of this opus, feeling grim and boiling, the vocals sinking in their teeth and refusing to release grip. Everything combusts as gravity collapses, the dueling vocals increase the intensity with wails of, “Question your keepers, question your protectors, question your comforters, question your consolers,” eating away at your psyche, the ferocity landing in a bloody pool of mud. “The Root” closes things with the bass coiling and striking, Funck swallowing chaos whole, and things lumbering and thundering, your guts feeling the weight of this fucker. The guitars catch fire and then liquify, the haze increases, and Funck’s voice levels your safety, the final moments sounding like an engine dying in misery.

I was as surprised as anyone when not only the Thou/Mizmor Roadburn collaboration came to be but when the very existence of “Myopia” was known and understood. This record feels like a true combination of forces into something greater, more emotional, more intense. Both sides align ideally, their sounds meld to form a greater, more monstrous whole, and this record was exactly what I hoped it would be when I found out it was birthed into this cesspool of a world.

For more on the band, go here: https://noladiy.org/thou/

And here: https://www.facebook.com/whollydoomedblackmetal

To buy the album, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/collections/pre-orders

For more on the label, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/

PICK OF THE WEEK: Pyrithe launch sludgy, brain-melting attack on challenging debut ‘Monuments…’

Sometimes things get so perversely bad, you have to laugh at the misfortune and catastrophe swirling around your head seemingly at all times. I know that over the past two years alone, I’ve found myself turning to hilarity over torment because sometimes the pain just feels better coming out that way. And because you think you’re possibly on the edge of madness trying to survive.

“Monuments to Impermanence,” the debut mind flayer by Pittsburgh’s Pyrithe, hardly is a comedy album (the fact that real-life trash was used as percussive elements aside, which actually rules), but the band still finds the absurdity of existence in the pit of musical blackness. Trying to pinpoint the band’s sound isn’t very easy as it can change multiple times during a single passage, but sludge, doom, noise, prog, and many other elements are relevant as the band defines its own brand of heaviness. At the band’s core are three key members—drummer/synth player/guitarist/vocalist Kerr (Noltem, formerly of solo project Marsh Dweller), guitarist/synth player Miller, bassist/contrabassist/synth player/vocalist Weston (Cant)—and joining them on this eight-track crash course are former vocalist
Vicky Carbone; vocalist Doug Moore (Pyrrhon, Septus, etc.); Jason Cantu, who plays the actual trash, coconuts, and egg shakers; and Kerr’s Noltem mates Max Johnson on kantele and Shalin Shah on egg shakers. It all makes for a thick, immersive, raw, often indescribable album that gives you the idea from its composition that this band won’t rest and could sound entirely different next record. Who knows?

“Asurviance” starts in a panic, an immediate, mauling assault on the senses that leaves you no time to get your footing as you’re inserted in the middle of the battle. Drums thrash, the guitars boil and scrape, and then a brief calm lets a breeze into the room before you’re back in the vice. The vocals wrench as sludgy pounding grasps your throat, ending in total corrosion. “Glioblastoma” is an absolute motherfucker, Carbone’s desperate initial howl driving the blade deep into your chest before she strangles you the entire run with the musical pace jerking and swelling. Keys hang in the air as the skeletal structure is torn apart and reassembled, the playing keeping the adrenaline coursing and the tension tightening. Echoed cries bounce off walls, massive smashing overwhelms, and everything chimes out into psychosis. Then things turn on a dime with “In Praise of the Enochian Trickster,” a track that feels like a combination of medicine head dreaming and being lost at sea. The playing bobs in the waters, Weston’s clean croon feels like a drunken, yet aware narrator, making you feel calm and uneasy at the same time. Eventually the punches come, and they land, energy pulsating and the guitars dripping morphine. The drums roll back before the pace explodes anew, wild howls swell, and the final drops dissolve into the ground. “Heaving Roots II” bleeds into your consciousness, cymbals crash, and the sounds fold through the clouds, stinging and melting your mind.

“Luminous” opens with a guttural howl and start-stop clashing, cloudy noises flowing and tricking your senses. The yells curdle as the playing develops with a calculated attack, the jolts wreck your ribcage, and the exhaust settles into the atmosphere. “Earthen Anchors” feels like it’s going to go a little easier on you, but it’s a storm developing quickly, and Moore’s distinct shrieks sink their teeth into your cheeks, ripping meat from the bone. The playing bludgeons, feeling muddy and thrashy in sections, guitars leaking into a burgeoning chaos. Moore’s beastly howls unhinge, a crazed fury boils over, and the final embers retreat into reflective light. “Ekphrastik I” lumbers and tests your strength, punishing and opening the gates to repeated blows, the drums speeding toward slaughter. Calmer waters wash into the scene, mesmerizing and sinking into your bloodstream, heading into closer “Ekphrastik II: Gifts of Impermanence” that begins in serenity as it slowly comes to life. An ISIS-style essence looms behind you, howls rip, the guitars sauté, and a synth cloud enveloping and bringing hypnosis. The playing combusts and warps, howls crush, and metal scrapes against metal, twisting your nerve endings, mercilessly teasing you as the final minutes crash and clash in the midst of a trash pit.

Pyrithe is an alien beast that’s fairly impossible to accurately describe because they’re constantly changing, adapting to the environment, getting deadlier and hungrier. Having heard a lot of these songs in formation at their live shows, none of which are even remotely the same, I would imagine the songs on “Monuments to Impermanence” will shapeshift in form and DNA as they move into the live setting. This is a debut record that’ll stand out from so many others because the ideas are fresh, the execution is committed to the madness, and every trip through these propulsive waters is a new experience that reveals layers you didn’t notice all the previous journeys you took. Plus it’ll help you laugh at impending doom even as it consumes you.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/collections/pre-orders

For more on the label, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/

Mexican maulers Introtyl bring bloodied, infectious death metal assault on decimating ‘Adfectus’

Death metal carnage comes in many forms, it’s created by all kinds of people, and as long as it’s done right—which is more a matter of feel than some archaic rules—it flattens like no other style of music. There’s a ton of it out there, and we’ve repeatedly lamented the deep swamp of just-OK bands that weigh down the sound, but finding something that resonates still has all the impact it ever had over death metal’s lifespan.

Mexican death quartet Introtyl have their muddy boots deeply ensconced in the traditional killing fields, their sound feeling like something that would feel at home in the early 1990s. On their thunderous second record “Adfectus,” everything hums like a well-oiled massacre machine, and the eight tracks run seamlessly, keeping things focused on the riffs, the growls, and the punishment. The band—vocalist Kary Ramon, guitarist Rose Contreras, bassist Sariux Rivera, drummer Annie Ramírez—lays waste on this, their second record, and blister you with guttural, punchy death metal that’ll stick to your bones and leave you battered and deeply bruised in the best way possible.

“Abyss” rips absolutely with throaty growls from Ramos, guitars spiraling, and the bass chugging heavily. Snarling chugs and metallic menace combine, the playing crunches, and gutting hell dumps you heaving on the ground. “Under My Skin” has chewy riffs and decimating pressure, feeling like a monster heading toward space. The growls squash your bowels, the growls scrape, and everything gets gnarly, crushing and sending spit flying. “Fear” delivers sprawling guitars and growls laced with poison as things get more vicious as they go. The riffs race and go off, the tempo blinds you, the drums explode, and the muscular bass splits bones alongside them, leaving ample bruising. “Inner War” stomps heavily and the growls devastate, and then it whips into thrashy madness, the growls licking up the blood left behind. Riffs twist as the vocals spit nails, your brain is tangled into a jumbled mess, and the final moments bring total brutality.

“Anger” is ideally named as the riffs sink in its teeth, ferocious growls take hold, and everything spirals, leaving the room spinning and you clinging to the walls. The guitars mangle as the vocals smash digits, the drums rumble, and the guitars race off into the distance. “Flame” tries to swallow you whole as fast, violent pacing does its damage, and then things get nastier, the bass playing again flexing its ample muscles. Rivera’s work on this record is a highlight, by the way. She’s a killer. The violence is amplified again, and a calculated finish is centered and vile. “Redemption” is built with raspy howls, guitars digging in its heels, and Ramos wailing, “Release your hate!” The ground rumbles as the playing comes unglued, wild blows land hard, and everything ends with a gust of roared breath. “Zombified” is the final chapter, and the riffs jerk and contribute to the insanity. The simple one-word chorus is effective and jarring, the guitars thrash, and the juices flow hard. This would be an excellent live set closer for the entire existence of the band as it brings infernal heat, it’s fun as fuck, and its wildness is impossible to corral.

Introtyl is a death metal force that will devour you, chew you up, and spit out your half-digested corpse on the bloody ground. “Adfectus” is a devastating record, a tried-and-true death metal assault that pays homage to the subgenre’s roots and carries the banner into the future. This is a punisher, a marked step up from their strong debut record, and a statement that should land like a comet into the earth’s crust once this beast is unleashed on the world.

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

To buy the album (vinyl), go here: https://targetshop.dk/vare/introtyl-adfectus-lp

Or here (CD): https://targetshop.dk/vare/introtyl-adfectus-cd

For more on the label, go here: https://emanzipation.dk/

Silver Knife get ready for first public performance with brief, exciting EP ‘Rings’ that pummels

One day I’ll attend Roadburn. Maybe. I hope. Look, my anxiety is shit a lot of times, and taking a plane ride isn’t really something I’m inclined to do, but until there’s another means of transport, that’s the only viable option. It’s a dream because of the incredible acts the festival always puts on, but it also spawns creative ventures and ideas that make the metal and heavy music world even richer.

Case in point, internationally placed black metal force Silver Knife are set to make their live debut at this year’s Roadburn, and as a gift to all, we get a new two-track EP “Ring” for our perusal. The two songs were recorded during the “Unyielding/Unseeing” sessions, created to be packaged together, and this little adventure is great for anyone who’s been into the band since their 2020 debut or those new to the proceedings. At 13:41, it seems a little small in scope, but taking on the music reveals a different story. It’s powerful, involved, and a hell of an adventurous listen that this band—the quarter identifies as N., H., D., and P.—commits to and creates to send you on an adventure that no airplane or any kind of engine can accomplish and never will.

“Ecomimesis” starts with a massive howl and the playing washing over you, covering you up to your throat. Wild howls wrench, the pace captivates, and the drums rumble hard as the playing soars into the atmosphere. The emotion fills your chest, punishing while it reaches the stratosphere, waves lap the shore, and the energy crash lands, burying itself deep into the ground. “Recalcitrant” closes this quick EP with a spirited gust, flowing darkly and violently into your bloodstream, the riffs pulling out your guts. Desperate howls cascade as the guitars flow, and things even turn pleasingly gothy for a stretch, melting melody into the murk. The band finds another gear as the track explodes, a fantastical feel takes over your body, and the waters rush with aggression, firing and fading into oblivion.

Silver Knife may have offered up a mere appetizer with “Ring,” but it’s full of flavor and keeps you satisfied until their next main course is ready. OK, that wording sounds lame, sure, but it’s also really accurate as these two tracks perfectly maintain Silver Knife’s aura and gives us something to bridge the gap between full-length records. This is more than worth your time, it demands very little of your energy, and it’s a killer EP that is ripe for repeat visits.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.facebook.com/silverknifeband

Or here: https://music.extraconscious.com/

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

And here: https://www.facebook.com/extraconsciousrecords/

Corpsessed swim in the stench of death, lean into morbidity on decay-swollen ‘Succumb to Rot’

We’re all going to die, and it’s an inevitability we cannot avoid no matter how hard we try. I don’t know. Why start the week on a good note when so many things have gone to shit? Sometimes it’s better to grasp reality, let it sink into your veins, and go about your business because one day you’re going to be a rotting corpse nourishing the soil.

That dose of glee is on my mind after tackling “Succumb to Rot,” the latest long player from Finnish death horde Corpsessed. Over the course of a decade and a half and four crushing albums, “Succumb” the latest in the line, this band has made the realities of life a little clearer and uglier. The band—vocalist N.M., guitarist J.L., guitarist/backing vocalist M.M., bassist T.K., drummer J-P.M.—spends the better part of these eight tracks and 36 minutes battering you, smartening you to reality, and refusing to pull back from the stench of putrefaction that is your future, like it or not. Well, I don’t know about you, but I sure do need a beer.

The title track gets things going, a quick intro with weird synth, growls lurching in the background, and guitars spreading, loading into “Relentless Entropy” that splits open and wounds right away. Things are heavy and thick with guitars slicing through the center, and an echoed fury carrying into a beastly push that’s sludgy and ugly, ending in a complete bludgeoning. “Death-Stench Effluvium” is a pretty gross concept in and of itself, and the insects buzzing at the outset certainly pay off that reality. Once you dig into the body of the song, it’s puss-filled and mangling with the vocals crushing, the guitars burning and soaring. The drums clash as everything crumbles to the ground, squashing everything in its wake. “Spiritual Malevolence” brings synth heat and then hammering guitars scorching and mauling growls piling on. The murk collects as things feel uncomfortable, fading into a chasm of sounds.

“Calling Void” drill into your chest as the growls retch, and the playing just pounds away. Thrashy hell rears its head, thick basslines coil and strike, and the power gets even more massive, punching out and leaving teeth on the floor. “Sublime Indignation” brings a blinding pace that takes you by surprise, then the growls gurgle and things get ugly in a hurry, the heat intensifying. Hell is unleashed as the guitars mystify, the growls engorge, and the drums go off, dicing and fading into the distance. “Profane Phlegm” lashes with doomy pressure before things get ungodly heavy, growls weighing down on you and causing pain. A strange pall hangs over everything, the power jolts, and the final fumes burn off. “Pneuma Akathartos” closes the album with churning playing and dark cloud cover, collecting before the mauling gets out of hand. The playing trudges with the growls turning uglier, morbidity thickening, and everything slithering into the mouth of hell.

Corpsessed maintain their stranglehold on classic death metal with “Succumb to Rot,” a nasty display that decays from the inside out. They put the screws to you and grind your flesh with great precision, dragging you into the most horrifying elements of reality. It’s a punishing album that solidifies their standing as one of death metal’s most destructive bands.

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

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

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

PICK OF THE WEEK: Freja immersed in fate, ancient mythology with mesmerizing, jarring debut ‘Tides’

Some things are just meant to be, a product of fate that was supposed to happen no matter what. You don’t have to believe in supernatural forces or religion or anything like that to buy into this concept as we’ve all likely had things happen in our life that lined up perfectly and seemingly out of nowhere. It’s the magic of the universe, friends.

That very thing happened and caused the formation of atmospheric, folkish black metal duo Freja, a union combining C. (also of Witte Wieven) and W. (of Laster, Verval) on their debut record “Tides.” The duo came together while working on Maalstroom, a commissioned piece for Roadburn 2019 that was a supergroup also featuring members of the Dutch black metal scene including Fluisteraars, Turia, Terzij de Horde, Verwoed, and Grey Aura. Their energy carried over and not only linked them romantically but also acted as the building blocks for Freja. This record is full of life and energy, a six-track album that feels like it pulls you into the clouds, over the mountains, and through glorious blazes that will infuse your heart and mind with much-needed energy. Lyrically the band basks in ancient myths (their name adopted from the Norse goddess of the same name) and applies those ideas to what’s often volatile modern times.

“Our Chosen Path” begins on a black metal onslaught with wild howls and spirited playing, bringing with it folkish flourishes that enhance the mood. There’s a fire-in-the-sky intensity even as the murk settles in, melody swells, and W’s howls belt you in the chest, the track stomping before bleeding away. “Scattered Shields” rushes in and heads into foggy melodies that feel like a dewy, obscured early spring morning. W’s vocals echo as the playing jars, and huge, atmospheric leads race to the surface, rocks split and rain down, and the rampaging feels calculated but also relentless, bleeding into the earth. “Dusk” slithers in coldness and dour environment, the growls crush, and C’s vocals work their way in, adding a new, alluring element into the music. A stormy surge takes flight, the rains pick up, and tornadic pressure runs wild, unloading beastly hammers. C’s voice seeps in again as a hazy push makes its last stand, the song dissolving into stark waters.

“Cataclysm” explodes with catchy riffs and harsh wails, W’s voice wrenching and exploding in the air. A daring pace picks up and races heavily, and the crunch multiplies, pushing through stinging guitars and enveloping murk. “Of Those Stricken By Fate” introduces delicate guitars as C’s singing takes over, sending mysterious waves into your bloodstream. It feels like a dissociative dream, the ambiance captures you, and everything rests at sea, the storm conquered. “Cloaks of Valor” is the 9:06-long closer and opens in a fury, splattering and sending punches flying, the growls holding their own. Hazy and vibrant, the wild shrieks tear into your muscles, the energy flows generously, and the leads glimmer. A slight pullback returns in the midst of guitars scorching, triumphant melodies dominating, and W’s calls chilling your bones before everything fades into the dusk.

Whether conjuring ancient myths or delivering passionate black metal that feels as much an homage as a carrying on the torch makes Freja’s debut one that will sneak up on you and take you down. “Tides” is as fitting a title as any for this surging record as it sometimes feels like you’re on the shore, looking into the distance, feeling the waters wash over you and try to pull you out. This is a great debut, a promising union both musically and in real life that hopefully lives for a very long time.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.babylondoomcultrecords.com/?s=pre-order&post_type=product

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