There’s a scene in “A Christmas Story” that always made me feel uncomfortable. The family is eating dinner, and Mrs. Parker can’t even get a moment to have her own meal because she must keep getting up to tend to everyone else’s whims. It’s frustrating and irritating, even if it’s played for humor, but it shows the role she is expected to play.

“The Disfigured and the Divine” is the debut album from Emasculator, a death metal band whose members are spread across Czechia and the United States. The album concentrates on the role of women in all societies, the presence of a goddess in mythology, and the plights of motherhood and womanhood. Many times, these responsibilities are minimized by people (ahem, men), and you can see from so much political policy both here and around the world that an effort is being made to minimize women in everyday life. That idea is met with savagery by this bestial unit—vocalist Mallika Sundaramurthy, guitarists Teresa Wallace and Morgehenna, drummer Cierra White—who lay waste to your physical and mental well-being over these seven tracks, which they also use to celebrate women in society and their ability to nourish and care while also remaining fiercely independent.

“Ecstasy in Disseverment (of Self)” dawns as grinding death, ugly growls gurgling and mixing blood with spit. Mauling and beastly, a spiraling attack lays waste, bludgeoning to the final blast. “In Resplendent Terror” wrenches as guitars smear, complete skullduggery eating away at your psyche. Burly terror leans even harder into violent waters, growls consuming flesh, drums splattering, and the scorching assault leading into hell. “Thesmophoric Rites” opens in pure brutality, growls peeling generous amounts of flesh, guitars surging as the power clogs the system. The already sinister pace comes unglued, the band achieving total decimation, the vocals getting even uglier as physical and mental horrors attempt to sever limbs.

“The Unassailable” is a quick piece that’s hypnotic with sitar stirring, chants by Swathi Kalahasti swirling and mesmerizing, the final embers fading. “Eradication of the Asuras” is gutting, growls mauling as speed becomes a major factor, making your head spin. It feels like the bones are rattling in your body, barbarous hell snarling, gruff horror battering to the end. “Age of the Goddess” features guest vocals from Daniela Dahlien Neumanová (the Corona Lantern, Noisebleed, ex-Diligence), as fires seem to spread at will, churning through a blinding wrath, rubbing faces in filth. The punishment keeps unloading as a pace shift makes your neck jerk, retching and clubbing as it collects bones. Closer “Supreme Void of Acephalous Being” is unhinged and vicious, growls scraping as the leads lap, thrashy power flexing its muscles. Guitars blaze as the lower end gets beefier and more explosive, animalistic fire peaking and ending abruptly.

“The Disfigured and the Divine” puts the plight of women worldwide into a brutal package that not only bleeds with pain and pride but also reminds that they are not to be underestimated. Emasculator are on fire during these seven songs, showing their gnarliest blades and opening the necks of anyone who plans to stand in their way. This is a vicious statement, one that should not be underestimated because before you know it, their force will have overtaken yours, and there will be no looking back.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://nserecords.bigcartel.com/

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

Life is hell, or at least it is more often than not in a lot of cases, and continually going through that is a grind that can eat away at your will to just get up in the morning. That sounds like a bummer of a way to begin a week, admittedly, but it can be productive to realize these things to get a handle on the blackness.

“Lightless Expanse” is the second full-length record from Colorado crushers Glacial Tomb, and at its center are these themes of life being a goddamn slog, and these struggles are brought to life through a story that dresses agony with cosmic horror. This record also is a step up in intensity and heaviness for this band—vocalist/guitarist Ben Hutcherson, bassist David Small, drummer Mike Salazar—two of whom are a part of traditional metal slayers Khemmis. There’s an urgency and devastation to these songs, and it’s easy to feel the torment, grief, and isolation that construct each section of this record.

“Stygian Abattoir” churns in noise before the lid is torn off, riffs sizzling as the shrieks punish. The leads go off as the playing swaggers, feeling a bit like classic Black Dahlia Murder before coming to a vicious end. “Voidwomb” is sludgy and fiery, thick howls bruising as the riffs sicken. Things take a mechanical turn, grinding you in the gears, and then slow, sludgy power emits electricity, classic-style guitars leaving you in the dust. “Enshrined in Concrete” is piledriving and animalistic, crunching with savage war lust as the sinewy muscle goes cold. Elegant leads stretch and gasp heat as shrieks rip, things coming to a devastating end. “Abyssal Host” is fiery and brutal, screams rippling through the air, the playing battering and blackening eyes. A doomy haze settles, suffocating and bleeding away in a sonic haze.

“Sanctuary” stabs and crushes, guitars fluttering and stinging, muddy horrors oozing out of every crease. Growls hammer before turning to flattening shrieks, the carnage rampaging to the end. “Seraphic Mutilation” slays, squeezing with force, shrieks slashing at limbs, veins suddenly clogged with tar. Leads simmer as a thick murk envelopes, atmospheric pressure increasing the heat and slipping into “Worldsflesh” that mauls with reckless abandon. The pace feels swollen and mighty, guitars taking flight, the bass driving into surprisingly progressive waters before the final blows rain down. “Wound of Existence” is impossibly thick, grooves making the playing sink in its teeth, down-tuned morbidity choking with force. Screams tear away as swollen hell emerges, humidity surging and wilting flesh. The closing title track chugs as vicious screams rub salt into wounds, vile horror spreading as the brutality multiplies. Demonic cries lay waste as the leads glimmer, and the final shots ricochet into the distance.

The bleak, uneasy themes that mark “Lightless Expanse” get morbid life with the thunderous death and black metal Glacial Tomb have perfected and drizzled all over these songs. It’s a different manner in which to visit such darkness, themes we all have grown to know a little too intimately. It makes this record both exciting and dangerously reflective, a ride that might cause bumps and bruises though it’s a physical jolt to experience.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.prostheticrecords.com/products/glacial-tomb-lightless-expanse

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

There are those bands that are content to stick to a formula and follow that basic pattern, with some wrinkles here and there, through their entire run. There’s some logic in that, and there is nothing wrong with remaining true to one’s sound with little deviation. Other artists don’t rest as easily and continually find means of reinvention or simply changing the game.

Trelldom is a well-known, well-regarded name in the annals of black metal, having formed in 1992 and released a trilogy of fiery records from 1995 through 2007. Led by the legendary vocalist Kristian Eivind Espedal—Gaahl if you’re nasty—who has fronted other renowned acts including Gorgoroth, Gaahls Wyrd, and Wardruna, the band returns 17 years after their last record with “…By the Shadows…” a creation that certainly paints outside the rigid sub-genre lines. This band isn’t content to keep making the same thing, and we’ll all luckier for it. Joined by guitarist/bassist/electronic specialist Stian Kårstad, drummer Kenneth Kapstad, and sax/clarinet player Kjetil Møster, Espedal and the band reimagine Trelldom’s form, injecting expansive melodies, thoughtful instrumentation, and yes, alluring darkness to the center of this record that stands as one of their most exciting creations to date.

“The Voice of What Whispers” opens with the bass squeezing, tension building and churning, woodwinds adding a chilling breeze. Espedal’s vocals turn to a creak singing, adding a sinister element, the haunting swirling before guitars rip and spellbind. The playing jars as the sax sizzles, zipping into the darkness. “Exit Existence” has guitars jolting and the vocals daring, a propulsive melody ripping veins as the singing aches and bellows. The storm picks up, diving into immersive waters, the sax wailing as the melodies wax and wane. “Return the Distance” is stirring, violence slicing through calm, the sax sprawling, the atmosphere numbing. The heat in the air blisters as the horns bellow, this instrumental piece bowing to the deep. “Between the World” has guitars bending as the sounds smear and disorient, growled whispers leaving scars. The temperatures drop, making your body shiver relentlessly, the chorus gliding as the title is called back with detached horror, howls repeating as they head into mist and echo.

“I Drink out of My Head” is active and fluid, sax cutting through muscle, the singing gliding along with the waves. The power chugs as sounds gust, the sax turning tornadic, and deep, tunneling singing making its impact. Storms rise as the melodies windmill, tightening the pressure with a metallic tourniquet, noise jangling off into a steely atmosphere. “Hiding Invisible” is ominous, a noxious cloud hanging in the air, humidity thickening as warbled sounds make flesh crawl. Cold, gravelly singing grinds flesh, steam rising as the sax rises above the din, sounds shrieking and drubbing, everything ending in mechanical fuzz. Closer “By the Shadows” has charred guitars and a spastic pace, the singing turning dark and moody, then playing bursting open live lava through the earth’s crust. Soft sax wafts as Espedal’s jaws practically come unhinged, dramatic wails compounding the drama, strange spirits and rolling drums bleeding into space.

Trelldom’s first record in 17 years not only is an unexpected and devious treat, but it’s also a much different world from them than what they established on their initial run. Everything on “…By the Shadows…” bleeds darkness and mystery, and the expanded sounds, the inclusion of saxophone, actually makes the music more unsettling, like a dark figure in the night whose intentions are unknown. This is a record that will feel alien to some, disturbing in different ways depending on the audience, and an enthralling piece of music that will continue giving into this year’s darkest months and beyond.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Trelldom1992

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/trelldom-shadows

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

Heavy metal made its biggest impact in the 1980s, and some of the factors that made it so powerful was its large scope and penchant for drama. Every record a band put out was another step ahead in ambition and creativity, and when progression was made and huge curves built into the road, it made it that much more enthralling.

Metal has changed a lot, and more emphasis is put on heaviness and brutality over trying to grow like an obelisk toward the sky. Yet, Texas-based dreamers Oceans of Slumber thrive on hugeness and increasing and stretching their sounds. Their new album “Where Gods Fear to Speak” is meant to be cinematic, literally, as it is a soundtrack to a movie that doesn’t actually exist, an apocalyptic tale that mixes poisonous religious tactics with a group of people that has risen up against it and is fighting back. This record sonically encompasses every era of this band’s sound, and it is noticeably heavier and more savage than their last couple albums. Yet, it’s still chock full of melody, world-class singing, and progressive death power as the band—vocalist Cammie Beverly, guitarist Chris Jones, guitarist/synth player Chris Kritikos, bassist Semir Ozerkan, drummer/piano player Dobber Beverly—pours every ounce of themselves into these 10 songs and 56 minutes that grab you from the first moment and refuse to let go.

The title track starts awash in darkness, Cammie’s singing pushing before growls retch and display ugliness, guitars churning as the pace sinks in its teeth. The plot soars and crushes, going cold for a moment before the guitars launch, synth whirs, and everything comes to a surreal conclusion. “Run From the Light” is punchy and heavy, ripping into flesh, grim howls mixing with Cammie’s dramatic highs. The playing mixes hardcore and black metal, the dual vocals pushing the emotions, the tempo laying waste as the soloing flows. Cammie reaches for the stratosphere, the temps cooling as rustic strains fade into time. “Don’t Come Back From Hell Empty Handed” runs 8:28, the longest track here, and a synthscape and atmospheric singing combine, energy pulsating as the building blocks are placed. A strong buzz mixes into warmth, playful keys and a theatrical touch adding a sense of fun, and then the heaviness caterwauls, rolling liberally in grit. Cosmic keys spread as wordless calls flutter, growls adding fiery tension, violence folding in with mud. “Wish” opens with just Cammie’s voice, guitars eventually joining and adding fury, power and catchiness luring you into the center. The drums hammer away as speed jolts the senses, Cammie calling, “A dream that’s just a dream and nothing more,” flowing into finality. “Poem of Ecstasy” starts with cinematic keys, singing glazing, the growls adding some ill will. Then guts are ripped from bellies, flowing with an intensity and charge that’s hard to hold to the side. “I’m waiting, save me from myself,” Cammie beckons, the elements coming together and melting into the ground.

“The Given Dream” basks in a synth shadow, the singing bellowing as bells chime, a pulsating center eventually exuding power. Strong singing flexes as the ambiance thickens, electro zaps filling minds with numbing light. “I Will Break the Pride of Your Will” has trembling keys and a tempo that suddenly charges, the singing standing in command as growls chew on guts. The bulk is assertive, but then a cooling agent is injected, keys making the frost feel insurmountable but also comfortable, the playing adding force you cannot hope to avoid. “Prayer” opens with keys simmering, and then the detonation levels bodies, scathing madness rushing full force into your bones. Moonspell’s Fernando Ribeiro lends his elegant pipes to this piece, and he and Cammie make for a perfect match. The playing shoves tectonic plates into different space, Cammie and Ribeiro combining to create a true force. “The Impermanence of Fate” has keys falling, the singing numbing, and the tempo buzzing and ripping open in force. Drama becomes a massive factor, Cammie leveling with, “I’ll never give in, I’m trying,” as an emotional surge coats with power that soothes nerves. The record closes with a cover of Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game,” and look, I’ve been pretty positive about this record, and for good reason. The world didn’t need another take on this song, and while this is a pretty strong stab at this and is supposed to be the end credits, it kind of feels like a strange ending to such an intense experience. It’s a minor qualm.

“Where Gods Fear to Speak” might sound alien in other times, but where we are now, these songs land hard as we prepare to defend our basic freedoms. Oceans of Slumber always has been a creative beast that’s poised to push metal elsewhere, but their commitment to heaviness and savagery also solidifies their commitment to their craft and style and the desire to keep things bloody. This band is awash in talent and can do things most artists can’t, and the fact their integrity and credibility continually defy expectations and always push to new heights should be enough to pack their followers’ hearts with faith.

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

To buy the album (North America), go here: https://shopusa.season-of-mist.com/

Or here (International): https://shop.season-of-mist.com/

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

A lot of have been through a lot, seemingly an obvious thing to say at any time in history, but man, I don’t know. It’s been hard for a lot of people. Emotions have been at a high and have made a lot of what some face even harder to absorb. Escapism is a natural fruitful way to address our wounds and try to find a place to grab a little solace.

Madeline Johnston is the sole creator behind Midwife, the mostly guitar-and-vocals-driven music she has created over three full-length records, her latest being “No Depression in Heaven.” If you’re familiar with her music, there won’t be much of a musical adjustment to make here, so there’s a bit of comfort there. But over these seven tracks and 37 minutes, Johnston visits familiar themes such as the balance of fantasy and reality, slipping into dark dreamscapes to address your wounds, and the grief that is attached basically stabs into the heart of our losses. The slowcore elements long a part of Johnston’s music remain in full, but there’s so much going on beneath the water surface that repeat listens are required to mine it all, and once you do, it makes this treasure that much more valuable.

“Rock N Roll Never Forgets” eases you into the record, Johnston’s hushed vocals paving the path, dreamgaze mood stretching its arms for a dark embrace. Slide guitars ease as the mood thickens, the title continually repeated as in a medicine-head haze, guitars swirling into a dreamy pillow of sound. “Autoluminescent” has guitars lapping, dark words raining down, melodies and emotions gliding into the shadows. The playing has a sense of strangeness that makes it feel like you’re hovering above the planet in a UFO, strapped in and accepting of your fate, detached from your body as the playing slips away. “Droving” has guitars thawing, synth layering over top, Johnston warbling, “It’s like sleepwalking.” Indeed, much of the music has that sense about it, which makes it even easier to slip into fully, Johnston then leveling with, “The pain is easy when it’s all you know.” Light rumbles through dark, sonic waves crashing as a surfy snippet of Santo & Johnny’s classic “Sleepwalk” carries us home.

“Vanessa” opens with beats scraping, guitars dripping, as the singing soothes, Johnston calling, “I know how it ends,” and later pleading, “I know that you tried.” The playing is tender and lonesome, spiraling underneath a spacious sky, lulling and numbing, melting into dreams. “Killdozer” opens with a cool riff and the singing icing wounds, the sounds coming more directly and less ensconced in fog. Keys lather as Johnston admits, “I remember everything,” keys chilling before she cuts with, “I want something real,” eventually dissolving into pooled waters. “Better Off Alone” has guitars glowing, Johnston pleading, “Talk to me,” repeatedly as keys breeze into the passage. The song is blunt and direct, even if it feels like it’s trying to soften your landing, ending feeling emotionally raw. The title track brings the record to a close, the guitars shimmering lullaby style, hushed singing and looped calls of, “Crying” getting into your psyche. The guitars burn and trickle, wordless calls lead you into a calming passage, spiraling out into the end of a dream.

“No Depression in Heaven” is another record from Midwife that’s unlike most of what you’ll hear this year, and while it has strains of her previous work, it also stands apart a bit. Sure, the music still sounds minimalist on the surface, and you wouldn’t be wrong to call it that, but that would be ignoring everything that’s going on beneath the surface emotionally and psychologically. We all strive to become something we believe in, and all of our experiences and relationships help bring that into greater focus, this music giving you a cloudy mattress on which to land your bloodied heart.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://nowflensing.com/collections/midwife

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

So many of us look for a meaning to our very existence, a force to get us through it all and let us sleep peacefully at night knowing we have accomplished something. But in the end, what does that really matter? What does it really matter now? We live in a commodified world where capitalism is king, so it’s sometimes hard to feel pride in our actions.

German black metal force Firtan didn’t go that exact route when writing and creating their great new record “Ethos,” their fourth. But they took advantage of the idea of examining where we can take advantage of our surroundings and what parts might be bringing us down. Their approach to that psychological territory is more abstract, but their thunderous and expansive black metal is anything but that. The band—vocalist/guitarist Phillip Thienger, guitarist C.S., bassist Oliver König, drummer David Kempf, violinist/piano player Klara Bachmair—dreams bigger this time around, and the playing as well as the increased ferocity and spaciousness make for a record that equally can draw blood and dreams.

“Hrenga” opens the record, and it features guest vocals from J.J. from Harakiri for the Sky and Karg, and guts immediately liquify, shrieks wrenching as melodies streak like blood. Cries rip as the playing pounds away, the guitars flexing muscles, strings swelling, and the final moments unload with power. “Zores” punishes, the vocals feeling like glass being washed down throats, the mangling, molten devastation spreading at will. The pace gets heavier as the vocals tighten their grip, unleashing vicious hell even as atmospheric waves wash over everything. “Contra Vermes” opens with riffs burning, savagery striking, and a sense of urgency making blood rush. Things get colder and moodier, though thunder is in the distance, and strings glaze with sugary goodness, paving the way for corrosive wails and a dizzying finish. “Arkanum” dawns in a synth glaze and animalistic growls, doomier clouds hanging overhead, smoking elegance crawling over cragged rock. The playing then erupts, guttural terror taking over, vicious howls stinging, chugging to the horizon.

“Wermut hoch am Firmament” features guest vocals from L.G. of Ellende, and guitars stir as the melodies ravage, shrieks drawing blood from bruised veins. The guitars drive, the riffs bubbling at the center, a total rampage devouring everything in its path. “Moloch” blasts hard, the shrieks leaving deep flesh burns, punishing with an evil gaze that works into a moody gloom. The playing trudges and even delves into progressive waters, ribs are cracked, and creaky speaking sends chills down the spine. “Ruakh” gives off a folkish vibe, churning open before the guitars fully come to life. There’s a glorious, forceful charge, roars punishing, the guitars feeling like they’re ramping up a new assault, the force peaking and then fading. “Komm herbei, schwarze Nacht” starts slower, burning with tenacity, strings dizzying and  washing into majestic waters. Things slowly pick up, and eventually everything feels huge, like it should be playing in a giant hall, shrieks ripping as the speed becomes a bigger factor. Mystical energies transform the aura, punching as the guitars conjure steam, the final notes bleeding away. Closer “Wenn sich mir einst alle Ringe schließen” is an instrumental, aching outro cut, keys swirling, emotional strings pulled deep into the darkest stretches of the cosmos.

It’s easy enough to get lost in the stars, confused about one’s own purpose in life, and “Ethos” is an ideal collection of songs to pull one back into the current times and get a hold of reality. Firtan’s dramatic, swirling black metal makes a perfect background for these thoughts, and they push the melodic envelope further than ever before on this album, which is as strong as anything in their catalog. This is a record that can flatten you emotionally and physically, yet the journey you take with it could be freshen your perspective and reinvigorate your purpose.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.aoprecords.de/gb/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.aoprecords.de/

It’s not even September, and my house already is mildly decked out for Halloween, neon ghosts and bats and illuminated pumpkin lanterns already on full display.  If people can start celebrating Christmas in fucking October, then I’m going to bask in the macabre and spooky as soon as it’s reasonable for me to do so.

This year’s celebration will have an added bonus, that being “Evil Remains,” the pounding new record from doom power Castle, who have been silent from a full-length standpoint for the past six years. This new record arrives just when the seasons are ripe to change, ushering in the time when devious powers lurk inside us all. Over eight tracks and 37 minutes, the band—vocalist/bassist Liz Blackwell, guitarist/vocalist Mat Davis, and new drummer Mike Cotton—delivers channeled, charred doom metal that’s hefty on melody, charging dual vocals, and bone-shaking energy that feels perfect at any time of the year but works even better as skeletons and ghouls start their annual rise from their worm-infested grave.  

“Queen of Death” buzzes in place before the guitars kick in, Davis’ grim singing taking lead early on before Blackwell’s smoky howl joins. Doomy and swampy, the pace swelters, gruff howls knifing, trudging fury kicking up and leaving a sweaty film on your face. “Nosferatu Nights” brings haunting guitars as Blackwell’s singing glazes, the guitars increasing the heat as the pace swings and chugs. The singing turns humid and then sultry, the heaviness hanging over your head, driving to a punishing end. “Deja Voodoo” enters amid thick bass, Blackwell’s vocals weighing down, the playing turning catchy even as it imposes its will. The tempo gets faster and heavier, later turning warmer as a psyche storm is forming. An energetic burst tears through ribcages, strong emotion flooding before a barreling end. “Evil Remains” starts on a bluesy riff, letting the sense of evil boil, and then the playing crunches, the singing smoking as the leads spiral. Molten guitars lap as punchy swagger erupts, buzzing through heaviness, the guitars slinking as the sun sets permanently.

“Black Spell” lands blows, the singing stinging as catchy riffs overtake you, raspy vocals then leaving brush burns on flesh. Growls maul as the guitars burst, a great chorus flooding over, the final moments feeling furious. “100 Eyes” bludgeons, deeper singing taking you underneath the earth, the playing driving exposed elbows into prone teeth. Minds melt as the guitars drag over hot coals, swirling in ugliness and blood, speeding up as a mangling fury becomes dominant and devours everything whole. “She” has fluid guitars flowing like a mad river, tangling your veins as strong singing acts as a powerhouse, smoking leads taking on a burning edge. The playing clobbers with reckless abandon, Blackwell and Davis trading off their vocal prowess, the call of, “She walks the devil’s path,” stabbing an exclamation point at the end of the tale. Closer “Cold Grave” is grim and sooty, Blackwell again going deeper vocally, guitars firing up as the blazing power blinds eyes. “Don’t turn your back,” Blackwell warns as the playing takes a punk-flavored edge, melodic soloing swelling with pressure, keys drizzling over a blasting finish.

“Evil Remains” arrives at the perfect time of the year, and as the winds eventually turn colder, and your blood feels thicker in your veins, Castle return to be the perfect conduit for witchy tidings. Their smoky doom always has gone done easily, but this new record finds them rejuvenated and hungrier, still unafraid to blacken your eyes as they weave their magic. This is a raucous and sinister good time, a record that proves Halloween truly is possible all year around.

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

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

Or here: https://hammerheartstore.com/

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

It won’t be long until we’re neck deep in the darkest, most ghoulish of seasons as the temperatures cool, and skulls and skeletons dot lawns as we await Halloween. Yeah, it’s overly commercialized, but that time period still lets the darkness and morbidity leak out into the public, scaring weird religious people.

Catalonian death metal horde Sanctuarium feel like the proper band in which to indulge with this time approaching, and their gut-removing second record “Melted and Decomposed” provides the right stench and chills to keep the spirit of the dead, um, alive. Over five tracks and a rumbling 48 minutes, the band—vocalist Carlos, guitarists Necrohelm and Gusi, bassist Ferran, drummer Agus—spills some chilling doom into their nauseating mix, pulling in time-honored traits to create a new spirit prepared to haunt in these times. All the horrors aside, the record also is ideal for anyone who thirsts for doom-drenched death and always is looking to overturn stones to find forces they haven’t discovered yet into order to freshen their collection. This is ugly in the best ways.

“Abhorrent Excruciation in Reprisal” opens in strange waters, keys slithering, growls caking through doomy tides. Sooty and crushing, things get heated and heavy, dizzying and slurring through muck, blistering as the playing heats up and increases the pressure. The drums punch harder as the guitars glaze, everything ending in shockingly abrupt manner. “Exultant Dredge of Nameless Tombs” starts with stuttered drums and filthy howls, guitars tangling as the heat continues to rise. Things then barrel at a glacial pace, scraping over the earth and defacing what’s underneath, a molten fury amplifying the temperature. Force drubs as the tracks throws its massive weight around, sounds hissing as the guts dissolve.

“Phlegmatic Convulsions” buzzes, growls churning, the pressure slowly settling as the growls gnaw flesh. Hypnotic leads make your head spin, dirty and blistering, causing your entire body feel like a viral host. Guitars burn as the cries echo, staggering and bruising as the final blows land hard. “Sadistic Cremation of Emaciated Offal” is slow-moving doom, bruising and mauling, turning bones into dust. The growls engulf as the leads take off, blackened filth smeared into mouths, the drilling fire producing blood. Closer “The Disembodied Grip of Putrescine Stench” dawns with disorienting heat, the drums punishing as the guitars bend in the face of sorcery. Fires stoke as the guitars liquify, the pace lurching and stretching, the speed suddenly becoming a factor. The playing intensifies and makes your blood race as the terror slowly dissolves into cloudy synth, a murky soundscape swallowing everything whole.

Sanctuarium certainly conjure a musty, dank atmosphere on “Melted and Decomposed,” so much so that you might feel like wiping non-existent cobwebs from your face when it’s finished. This is doom-infested death played the way it was originally intended, keeping your face in the ground and your mind swirling over the most horrific ideas you possibly can imagine. As the winds gets colder and the days grow darker, it’s the perfect time to indulge in this ugly creation that will pull you deep into its grave alongside the worms.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/sanctuarium-melted-and-decomposed-lp/

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

It’s common to hear people complain about death and black metal bands not being heavy enough, not being vicious enough, not being bloodthirsty enough. To be clear, there isn’t one way to create these sounds, and variety has made both subgenres more dexterous, but there’s something to be said for raw brutality, and it feels good when it’s right.

Berlin-by-way-of-Israel stompers Har clearly have a penchant for the roots of the heavier forms of metal, and those are on bloody, sharpened display on debut full-length effort “Cursed Creation.” It’s a compact, deadly eight tracks delivered in about 30 minutes, and each moment packs a punch that feels like it was conjured from three decades ago. That’s spiritually, as their sound certainly has modernity to it, and the band—vocalist O.S., guitarist D.A., drummer A.M.—packs this thing with agony and destruction that can unite newer listeners with someone graying at the edges who’s been at this for years.

“Submerged in Cacophony” begins with mechanical weirdness, riffs warping as crazed wails churn. The playing is drilling and sooty, ugly as hell in spots, tornadic fury cycling harder as dust kicks up. “Invoking Evil Spirit” is speedy, infernal howls causing flesh and muscle to wilt, destroying with mind-melting chaos. The growls get deadlier, the guitars torching as melodies blaze into an endless storm. “Chronocide” tangles your brain wiring, howls ripping with volcanic might, mashing guitars leaving blisters on your extremities. Uncontrollable speed breaks away recklessly as the guitars slay, refusing to relent before everything before it is consumed by flames. The title track trudges, taking its time to ramp up its mission, the tempo later racing with force, guts splattering. Fast, crazed blasts crack skulls, a monstrous fury swept up in a gale force, ending in complete insanity.

“Poisonous Entity” is scathing, bleeding from a million wounds, blasting full force toward slaughter. The bruising terror continues to slam on the gas pedal, guitars glimmering and zapping even as they deliver horrific tidings, while the low end continues to batter until every inch of your body aches. “Infernal Passage” is a strange instrumental piece with guitars glowing and a heat death turning on the carnage, burning its way through outer space. “Shachat – Seven Halls of Defilement” is face splitting, warping, and striking, the growls adding an even deeper level of menace. The pace batters and chars, growls punishing as an animalistic lather aims to suffocate. Closer “Metaphysical Stench” dawns in a molten fury, throaty growls fully mangling, guts squeezed through flesh. The playing zaps as guitars combust, final blasts firing, static marring the senses fully.

Har’s obliterating blend of black and death metal is on full, maniacal display with “Cursed Creation,” an album that tests you physically and mentally. Their snarling, compact first offering is perfect fodder for anyone who wants to have every cell in their body devastated and squeezed for blood as this band delivers heaviness and bestial lunacy in equal servings. This is an album and band on which you should not sleep because before you know it, they’ll have the point of their swords poking at your throat.  

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

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

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

If it’s not every week that we’re going back to the well of pain and anxiety, and I agree we’ve been discussing these topics a lot lately. But that’s what the music we’ve covered has required, and while it’s not terribly comfortable confronting these forces on a regular basis, doing so also leaves a sort of callus that makes the blows easier to take.

California-based black metal power Other World also aren’t afraid to poke at those wounds, which they do early and often on their excellent second record “Tenebrous,” their first full-length in nine long years. The band—vocalist S.P., guitarist/synth player/programmer C.G., bassist J.H., drummer C.M.—heads directly into murky waters, tackling those negative energies and experiences that eat away as our psyches. They bring with them blades sharpened by playing in other bands such as Pillorian, Jesus Wept, Black Salvation and plenty others and direct that weaponry into these powerful five tracks that make the most of rich atmosphere and punishing force.

“From Innocence” opens already in the midst of attack, howls decimating as clean calls intertwine, scathing melodies scorching flesh. The playing surges and flattens as the energy ripples, feeling both gazey and glorious before a calm settles. The bass prods as detached singing numbs, the playing spiraling and flooding before a final jolt. “Arid Dawn” is moody and clean to start, beastly growls punching in, the playing crushing as a deadly storm accumulates. Throaty wails and guttural punishment combine, accumulating and blistering, flooding with a melodic crush, thunderous power lathering and flooding.

“Agony Exhaled By Mist” brings churning guitars and deep singing that reach deep into your chest, a trance-like feel washing over everything and icing nerve endings. The pace then batters, the growls scraping on their way to an atmospheric finish. “Ash, Teeth & Bone” ruptures with drums rumbling, the playing tearing open and spitting nails. The playing is flush with brawn, leads surging into a chasm, the howls smearing as volcanic powers immerse, the sounds glimmering as the vocals crush ribs. Closer “To Decay” packs menace and atmosphere, singing blurring as it turns demonic, the sounds glowing and blinding eyes. Guitars build into a thunderous front, hearts engorging as jarring fire is paced by infectious melodies. The playing floods as wordless vocals give a forceful shove, mashing through dizzying madness as the world spins out of control.

Darkness and sorrow thread through “Tenebrous,” a record that explodes with black and death metal synergies but holds inside it unshakeable scars. Other World create a vortex that draws you into its center point, immersing you with the blackened magic within and showing you that the negativity you face isn’t yours alone. This is a mauling, punishing reminder that pain finds us all, and it depends on what we do with it in the end.

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

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

Or here (Europe): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/12-eshop

For more on the label, go here: https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/