Putting on a record that instantly terrifies you is an experience. You hear something you don’t fully expect, and at first, you don’t know if you want to continue because it feels like it’s going to melt your brain. That doesn’t happen all the time now, especially since so much heaviness is homogenized, so when it hits, the impact is weirder.

While it’s not our first go-round with Thaumaturgy, a band helmed solely by KT (despite there being three people in the promo shot, and I can’t find a fuller lineup … also, another sidebar: Dear bands, stop putting your logo on all promo shots … make one with and one without), their new record “Pestilential Hymns” is one of the strangest, most abrasive albums we’re heard in a minute. A lot of what makes these eight tracks initially uncomfortable are the vocals (the bio compares them to Martin Van Druren, but I hear a lot of vintage John Tardy as well), and at first that could be off putting for some. But the further you delve into this bizarre death metal madness, the more it gels and makes all the morbid sense in the world.

“Neuroticism Triumphant” ravages right away, the vocals sounding like a deranged prowler, the playing boiling into a heatwave. The playing gets meaner and more devious as the howls smash, the playing chugs harder, and synth rises and fades away. “The Oncologist’s Hymn” ignites with wild wails, a drilling pace, and the bass wrapping you in darkness, your guts taking on a crushing assault. The pace charges as the leads torch, amplifying the temperature before everything dissolves into airy ambiance. “The Shadow Approaches” damages from the start, sooty howls smoking, guitars taking on heat and blowing back exhaust. The playing catches fire as doomy fury flows freely, landing a few final blows. “Plague Ritual” is wiry and formidable, barked howls dislodging chunks of flesh, the fiery pace running into an icy synth field. Doom recoils as the guitars snap back, tangling and trampling, raspy growls dusting before a gothy fog envelopes all.

“Awaken Ares” is speedy as hell, howls cutting as the pace enters a volatile weather system that promises carnage. The death elements spike as the pace matches that gust, unhinged cries melt away your psyche, and mournful leads blend with sorrowful keys. “Entropic Hegemony” splatters, howls gutting, deviously heavy playing making your ability to steady yourself nearly impossible. The pace pulverizes, guitars swelling as skull-dragging death delivers misery, leading to a morbid, yet savage finish. “An Ignominious End” is a strange instrumental, a sort of breather before the final chapter. Here, guitars weep blackness, the frigid winds frost windows, and the drums echo, letting the dreary spirits escape the room. Closer “Forced March” trudges in, nasty sentiment spread generously, drilling into your skull. Growl retch as the madness increases, guitars surge, and brutality renews its mission to maim before the end comes, slowly bleeding into frosty keys that ice over wounds.

Thaumaturgy might be an arms-length band for some, as “Pestilential Hymns” can be a difficult record on first listen, especially if you have no prior experience with the band. But go back. Doors open, strangeness permeates your brain, and everything fits into place, even if that also advances your own horrors. This is a trip that can peel away at your mind if you’re not safe. Or it can let loose the bizarre sparks in your brain dying to get out.  

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.memento-mori.es/product/thaumaturgy-pestilential-hymns/

For more on the label, go here: https://www.memento-mori.es/

I wish there was a little more mystery in metal because, with some exceptions, so much is out there in the open for everyone to devour. Especially in black metal, so much of what comprises that style is devious and morbid, and knowing exactly who’s in charge and what their agenda is kind of strips away some of the allure.

Black metal power Akolyth do not even have a home country to their name, and while we know the names (sort of) of the spirits involved—Sphere, Ærkun, D.—everything else is left to the imagination. Their second record “Ecstatic Kingdom” is a furious affair, one that feels buried in second-wave ash and interference and that also can be as savage as anything. Over four tracks and 39 minutes, this phantom pulls at your limbs, drags you into freezing torture, and lets you soar with them into the fucking stars.

“A Black Torch” opens awash in feedback before charging into shadowy, raw terrain, howls wrenching amid a storming force that easily envelopes you. The bass tramples as the guitars simmer, the pace continuing to pummel as melodies churn, and creaky howls fry. The leads spill as the pace intensifies, bursting through frozen tundra, spilling into the darkness. The title track has guitars firing, blazing through speedy passages, howls strangling and retching as your flesh blisters. The bass snakes as the guitars bleed into spacious atmospherics, everything pulling back for a spell to infuse oxygen. The track bursts again, relentless power bubbling out of veins, the guitars dominating before coming to a rampaging end.

“To Grow, Flourish and Conquer” basks in melodic leads, a daring pace, and a stormy pull that makes you weightless and vulnerable. Howls gurgle as the leads melt, the playing punishing before hitting a slower tempo and creating a strange hypnosis. It spills out of the other side as destructive as ever, the melodies flooding and turning ashen before blending into oblivion. Closer “Without Light” unfurls with murmuring speaking and a mysterious agenda before things get bloodier. The growls sound shrouded in spots, in your face in others, miasmal guitars making the confusion more pronounced and hypnotic. Guitars spiral and drill as the auras becomes more mesmerizing, floating into drums that deface and sickening growls. The tension continues to build into a bizarre haze, tricking your mind before the hammers fall again, the vocals splatter, and the final bursts send your mind into outer space.

“Ecstatic Kingdom” might, from its title, make you think you’re leaning into something that will lift your spirits, but it’s a bit of a misdirection. The album is packed with sharp-edged, volatile black metal that darkens skies and prepares you for grim tidings. This is an album that originates in the darkness and pulls you in for your own experience in the volatile shadows that lie beyond.

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

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

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

There’s enough violence surrounding us in society right now, and I’ve gone on about it a lot, so let’s put that thing to the side for like 15 minutes. That’ll make sense in a second. Instead, let’s focus on audio violence, the type of music that pulls you into its grasp and takes you apart suddenly and thoroughly.

Barren Path combine former members of Gridlink and Maruta, and on their debut album “Grieving,” they decimate your senses on 12 tracks that last, combined, 13 minutes, 31 seconds. This is grindcore after all, and lengthy albums are not a part of that scene nor should they be. Unless there’s like 100 songs on there. Everything is sudden and manic as the band—vocalist Mitchell Luna, guitarists Rory Kobzina and Takafumi Matsubara, bassist Mauro Cordoba, drummer Bryan Fajardo—adds some interesting twists and turns, not the least of which is lead guitar work that’s a little flashier than what we come to expect from grind. It make this a little more electric in the midst of ferocity.

“Whimpering Echo” starts with drums splattering, Luna’s voice going back and forth from shrieks to growls in a heartbeat. The pace is maniacal, the lead guitars smoking hard, almost feeling like grind influenced by Zeppelin?  “Subversion Record” has growls marring and speed jetting, the electricity peaking and ripping out guts. “Primordial Black” brings commanding guitars and the dual vocal attack striking again, creating a daring, fast tempo that dizzies. “No Geneva” attacks right away, zany leads causing confusion, the bloodthirst reaching insane levels. The howls strangle as the drums explode, zapping into oblivion. “Isolation Wound” is metallic, so much so you can taste it, and riffs then rule as a tornadic force explodes. Growls gurgle before strange speaking emerges, the final moments detonating. “The Insufferable Weight” starts in a haze before rocketing, the deep battering taking its toll early. Deep growls roll in blood as madness spills out of every corner, the guitars continuing to add to the insanity as the drums flatten.

“Relinquish” is an all-out assault, the screams maiming before the pace changes, getting no less volatile. The playing spatters as death metal-style maiming leaves permanent scarring. “The Unreliable Narrator” has pained growls, guitars swaggering and dive bombing, painting attitude all over this monster. “Celestial Bleeding” is weirdly dreamy at the start, voices echoing into a robotic warp, the call of, “Together, yet so alone,” feeling digitally isolating. “Lunar Tear” is beastly with guitars racing, the pace trucking, and just when it seems it can’t get more intense, it somehow does. Growls and shrieks team to punish you mentally, while a monstrous explosion brings the pain to an end. “Horizonless” bruises, coming at a high rate of speed, harsh vocals scraping flesh, the guitars absolutely destroying. The playing stays fiery, smashing and dusting into a weird sheen that bubbles into closer “In the End… the Gift Is Death” that guts right away. The playing is catchy, and again the leads are infectious and simmering, the pace going impossibly fast. The drums murder as the guitars carve, rampaging right into cinder blocks.

If you thought “Grieving” had any solace to offer or, comically, some breathing room, be prepared to be absolutely unprepared for this battering. Barren Path’s first foray is a scorching one, an album that you can listen to completely on a short car trip but that will leave you flattened. If this is grind’s true future, it’s in violently good hands.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://willowtip.com/bands/details/barren-path.aspx

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

Thrash metal is an entirely different entity than it was in its heyday more than 30 years ago. In fact, other than the bands that were making the sound what it was at that time, there hasn’t been a lot of forward motion in this sub-genre. It’s been passed by, in a sense, with death, doom, and black metal taking charge and providing sounds more relevant to the chaos that faces us now.

Swiss thrashers Coroner did help formulate this sound, adding more technical and frostier notes to the art form, and on their comeback album “Dissonance Theory,” they put to rest whether this arm of metal remains relevant. Their first record in 32 years (the last was 1993’s “Grin”) is an open mouth into hell, a volatile, devastating, and much-needed reminder of what thrash can be and just how sharp its teeth are. Over 10 tracks and 47 minutes, the band—vocalist/guitarist Ron Royce, guitarist Tommy T. Baron, and new drummer Diego Rappachietti—pours power and vitriol into their work, but they also advance their boundaries a bit. Yeah, thrash is the base, but so is ferocity, and the continual progression of their aggression into meaner and deadlier forms make for an album that’ll tear your head clean off.   

“Oxymoron” opens and is a quick instrumental, sitting in a haze of creaks and whispers, squeezing into “Consequence” that gives you a real taste of what’s ahead, which is brutality. Riffs encircle as the pace properly mashes, feeling like they’ve purposely upped the ante. Royce’s howls snarl, feeling animalistic, while the chorus wraps around you. “No fun, no fun,” he wails, “This is no fun,” as the band swings back, making you think they actually are enjoying this pasting. “Sacrificial Lamb” starts in the shadows before trudging forward, Royce prodding, “Did I not make myself clear? Did I not warn repeatedly? These shall make war with the Lamb, and the Lamb will overcome them,” tongue dug into cheek. The savagery continue as the drums rivet, the guitars knife, and the soloing bursts from the seams. “I will come to redeem you,” Royce wails as everything thunders before bleeding away. “Crisium Bound” opens in a guitar fog before swinging hammers, battering as the howls smoke and the chorus crushes. The playing dips into cold, mystical waters before the soloing takes charge and commands, Royce insisting, “I become fire.” “Symmetry” is speedy as hell, the vocals taking direct aim, though I did flinch a little at the use of the word “peek-a-boo,” so there’s that. Otherwise, this is total ferocity, fluid leads gushing, howls carving, Royce calling, “Measure of all things — iste ego sum.”

“The Law” starts cleaner before the thrust pushes you back, though the pace is a little less harsh, though just as heated. Nasty howls tangle with gray melodies, the leads pulling into the edge of the fog. An airy chorus uplifts while the blistering returns for a spell, ending everything in tingling mystery. “Transparent Eye” has guitars stabbing, a hulking force dragging, and weird warps that buckle your sanity. Synth mixes in as the scene grows more atmospheric, brutality following closely behind, Royce wailing, “I am, I am part!” “Trinity” drips in with wiry riffs and Royce howling, “One lunatic, one madman is all it takes.” Isn’t that the fucking truth? The playing pummels as guitars rip, and even a darkening cloud coverage can’t obscure the anger and discontent, sinewy power capturing you and robbing you of air. “Renewal” stomps mercilessly, barked vocals making flesh crawl, rubbery riffs wrapping around your psyche. The ground quakes as Royce commands, “You gotta take what remains, brace yourself, steel yourself, be the harvester,” which should chill you. The playing combusts, atmosphere pushing conflicting winds toward riffs that loop viciously, smashing into instrumental closer “Prolonging” that basks in organs, a jazzy ambiance, and spirited sound smears. Light pokes holes through the ceiling as everything comes to a quiet, yet crumbling end as the echo of “What remains?” circles in your brain.

Coroner absolutely destroy expectations on “Dissonance Theory,” an album heavier and nastier than anyone had a right to expect. It’s been more than three decades away from the studio, yet these thrash legends not only added new life to their own mission, but they managed to forge their way into the future, proving their message and sound resonate. This was one of my most anticipated records of the year, and it delivers so hard that instead of listening to me, go listen to them and get utterly ravaged.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://centurymedia.store/

Or here (Europe): https://www.cmdistro.de/

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

A friend of mine, who is a little younger than I am, once told me he only could listen to thrash if it was blackened. Which always makes me think we’re talking about salmon or something. I feel like it was that age gap, the fact he didn’t live through the thrash glory days, that could be to blame, but the conversation did make me think about it a lot.

Then it dawned on me that the reason I find some much modern thrash so lacking is it isn’t always true to the originators (which isn’t a sin) or it’s not vicious enough. That made me pay more attention to thrash bands that injected black metal into their recipe, and Graveripper is one of the mightier ones in that field. The band’s new record “From Welkin to Tundra” ups the ante in a great way, adding more sinister black metal edges to their punishing formula. The band consists of vocalist/guitarist Corey Parks, bassist Steven Garcia, and drummer Nick James (the latter two joined since their 2023 debut LP “Seasons Dreaming Death”), and they pour vitriol generously and violently, making their brand of thrash burst with flames from the seams. This is fucking nasty.  

“Welkin, Now Tundra” is a nice, frosty intro, a sign of things to come as winds gust and guitars activate, barrelling into “Bring Upon Pain” that instantly chugs and blisters. The leads scorch as the vocals bathe in an evil, sinister blood stream, the pace carving you up. The leads erupt as the playing races harder, blasting out into hell. “Hexenhammer” is a proper mauler, bringing frigid black metal that trucks and howls that maim. “There is no return!” Parks wails, the guitars catching fire, strong energy pulsing through veins before the final order of, “Tear the world apart.” “Death’s Cold Embrace” enters amid a flurry of guitars as words are spat in monstrous growls, the speedy pace blinding with vicious intent. Melody washes over as the tempo hits a higher gear, strange visions flooding your senses. “Sanctioned Slaughter” is mashing, throaty howls flexing, a sense of savagery overwhelming and pulsing. The melodies get catchier as the gas pedal is jammed through the floor, the wail of, “No remorse!” coursing through your veins.

“Hounds From Hell” is fast, punchy, and thrashy, growly snarls pouring sand in wounds. The intensity keeps skyrocketing, and the simple, yet effective chorus absolutely crushes, slowly fading away. “No Gods, No Masters” clobbers, black metal frostiness letting freezing extremities ache, the guitars chugging through fluidity. Brutal bass chews on muscle, shoving into jarring pressure, mashing bodies as it heads to the other side. “…And Now It’s Dark” has the bass leading the way with authority, the guitars spiralling away, the vocals snapping like a whip. The pace goes hard, absolutely shredding faces, the playing then hulking and bludgeoning to the finish. “Bullet Laden Crown” has guitars tangling before diving fully into thrash, harsh howls teaming up with vein-ripping riffs. The guitars then simmer as the drums pace through a surge of madness that can crush a wall. Closer “Burning Barren Plains” darts in suddenly, a melodic chorus making your heart jump, harsh cries twisting already bruised muscle. Guitars heat up before fully igniting, heavily catapulting forward and steamrolling toward a volcanic finish.

Graveripper’s black/thrash metal hybrid is mightier and more sinister on “From Welkin to Tundra,” some of the most savage tracks in the band’s run. The more wintry elements added to their formula is a nice touch, and it actually gives added room for the thrash elements to thrive. The album is a real motherfucker, one that brings down the hammer repeatedly in as vicious a manner possible.  

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

To buy the album, go here: https://graveripper.bandcamp.com/album/from-welkin-to-tundra

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

Pretty sure I’ve said this before, perhaps many times, but I cannot understand people who only can indulge in happy music or things devoid of any negativity. I can’t handle when I meet people like that in real life, and while I wish them no ill will, I just feel like I’m not around a genuine person. Frown for once!

I never have to worry about that with UK sludge/hardcore crushers Mastiff, and even an EP from them comes off as a goddamn miserable punch in the chest. That EP is “For All the Dead Dreams,” so you know right off the bat, you’re not going to be smiling at all. Unless it’s from morbid humor. Over five tracks and about 15 minutes, the band—vocalist Jim Hodge, guitarists Phil Johnson and James Lee-Ross, bassist Dan Dolby, drummer Mike Shepherd—totally pummels you, dragging you through tar containing glass shards, basking in self-deprecation, and leaving everything lying in a pile of ash.

“Soliloquy” immediately pounds away, a warped sample frying brain wiring, devastation then unloading with a hardcore boot to your chest. Guitars burn as the force gets more intense, Hodge wailing, “Bury me in a shit-filled grave,” which certainly puts an exclamation point at the end of this one. “Rotting Blossoms” floods with feedback, the pace launching as throaty wails bruise, the pace feeling downright skull mashing. “For all the dead dreams … the mass worship of this constant disgrace,” Hodge wails as sludgy heaviness buries you under the earth. “Decimated Graves” is burly and massive, the drums blasting as a beastly force slithers across the earth. Thick, destructive seismic waves rumble beneath you as the playing lays waste, slowly battering into submission. “A Story Behind Every Light” destroys, howls wrenching, guttural madness flattening as Hodge confesses, “Don’t rely on me, I can’t be trusted.” Heat swarms as the breakdown scars, blasting into oblivion. Closer “Corporeal” lashes with speed, the howls crushing as the drums powder bones into paste. An unforgiving force gallops, smearing blood, the wails punching holes before only ash remains.

“For All the Dead Dreams” is an absolute bloodbath in misery and misanthropy, five tracks that properly react with acidic anger and frustration over a world in authoritarian decay. Mastiff always bring the might, but this 15-minute burst ups the ante, leaving scorch marks behind. This is a fittingly volatile collection, one that will come off morbidly violent live and hopefully bridge to LP 3.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://deathwishinc.com/collections/church-road

Or here (Europe): https://www.deathwishinc.eu/collections/church-road

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

We talk about a lot of negative things on this site, and we’ve made it redundantly clear as to why that’s the case. But there can be positivity or at least a silver lining sometimes, because without that, it would just be doom all the time. No one can live that way. Bringing something brighter to the surface can be a great remedy to misery.

Belgian progressive post-metal band Psychonaut return with “World Maker,” their third album and their most varied and atmospheric to date. And it’s not that the entire record is awash in good feelings, because there is some despair woven in as the band laments ailing family members at a time of great joy and the welcoming of new life. But the band—guitarist/vocalist Stefan de Graef, bassist/vocalist Thomas Michiels, drummer Harm Peters—still manages to explode from the gates emotionally and takes you through lows that are more than balanced out by the shining highs. There is more variation to the music, more progressive waves, softer corners, and some well-placed thunder that fills this album with enough power to get your blood pumping.

The title track starts with keys glazing, dancing even, soft singing breezing as an image forms in your head. The playing pulsates, tension building as harmonized vocals numb, synth slicing into the fog. “Endless Currents” starts more aggressively before spindling, the singing soaring as the melodies follow suit. The chorus melts as the pace builds, and then vicious shrieks dash red across the clouds, the playing looping and jarring, ending in fire. “You Are the Sky” feels like it’s seeking though dark terrain, cries blistering as the playing rips, eventually growing more spacious. The tension pulls back a bit as the tempo jostles, keys woosh, and power bludgeons, singing and screaming uniting and forming animalistic partners. “Everything Else Is Just the Weather” enters into a deep, misty forest, airy prog and jazzy inflections coloring the edges, the singing soothing your nerves. Voices cry out wordlessly, the pace builds back up, and the peak suddenly dissolves into oblivion. “And You Came With Searing Light” has the guitars awakening and folding, spiraling through a daring chorus, thriving and meeting up with tormenting howls. The power smashes as the atmospheric pressure returns, clean and harsh singing tangling, hearts beating away.

“Origins” starts deeply percussively, synth swooping, eerie sentiment cooling your flesh. The guitars then take off and torch, power bursts through the clouds, and the drums blast, delivering a rousing end to this instrumental journey. “All In Time” feels rather Tool-ish rhythmically, the singing crawling, and then roars mashing and loosening bolts. The verses tend to be more serene while the chorus spills the fuel into the flames, the back end settling into sludge and devastation, coming to a propulsive end. “Stargazer” is slow driving, the howls carving, doomy thunder ringing out as the skies darken. Melodic singing slips in as the heat rises and begins to boil over, the playing toughening as wails wrench and draw blood. The guitars churn as smoke wafts, the shrieks plaster, and the tempo melts into a blur. “All Was Quiet” is a quick interlude with synth scraping, guitars folding, sitar stirring, and singing merging before the spirit fades. “Endless Erosion” closes many versions of the record, delivering chills as the guitars quiver, and howls ripple before the singing goes cleaner. The playing shifts into serenity, pulling you into a false sense of relief before the ground erupts again. Melodies sweep as the singing pulses, bringing a crushing new wave that ends everything in fury. Some versions have a remixed version of “Origins,” which is treated with different beats and echoes and feels like a slightly different animal.

“World Maker” is an album that revels in the highest of highs and the most gutting of lows, tangling with a volatile world also feeling like a more imposing factor. Psychonaut are a different machine here, grappling with life’s triumphs and tragedies and giving their music a more expansive feel. This is a record that has so many different things going on musically and emotionally that multiple visits aren’t just recommended, they’re mandatory. In a good way.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://pelagicrecords.indiemerch.com/

Or here (also U.S.): https://www.athousandarmsstore.com/collections/pelagicrecords

Or here (Europe): https://pelagic-records.com/webshop/

Or here (Australia): https://wildthingmusic.com/collections/pelagic-records

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

Encountering something that feels like it is mirroring similar feelings you’ve had inside, things you thought were unique to you, is quite the experience. Everything that shakes you inside or challenges you to try to overcome negative emotions seems so personal, so when you notice that elsewhere, especially in art, it can be a profound shift.

Pretty much from the start, “Grace of Departure” feels violently uneasy, like technically minded death explorers Aduanten are transferring their pain and frustration right into you. These four tracks don’t hold back, and while there also is a great amount of artistry on display here, there’s also just as much tumult. The band—guitarist Ciaran McCloskey, guitarist/synth player Michael Day, drummer/synth player/programmer Eoghan McCloskey—pours out its frustration over the decay and despair that have permeated a lot of lives, but they also save a moment to honor a fallen musician. This is a thunderous, exciting effort that really makes its mark.

“Cerulean Dream” starts with an atmospheric push before howls lash as if with a belt, immersive sounds surrounding as the rhythm section pounds. Energy spills as synth gusts and the wails dig under your ribs, the fury mounting before going clean and dissolving into a dream. “Decameron” has guitars liquifying into a moody fog, the vocals wrenching, desperate emotion arriving in waves. The guitars heat up and bustle as grainy power mars, the pace rushing and blending into darkness. The title track, which honors the late Nature Ganganbaigal from death/folk band Tengger Cavalry, opens with the drums activating and a progressive push showing new colors, guitars savaging as the howls aim for eye sockets. A great gust feels like it’s taking you under, guitars sweep and twist, and the vocals add a gale force attack that easily blows you backward. Closer “The Weakening Sovereign” has the drums rousing you awake, harsh wails leaving blistering, and then a black metal-style tidal wave overwhelms. The vocals turn more maniacal, guitars exploding and fluttering, a clean progression washing away streaks of blood and fading into oblivion.

“Grace of Departure” is a significant step forward for Aduanten, a band that mixes a nice variety of extreme sounds and dangerous edges into this enthralling EP. There is pain and despair that is apparent simply from absorbing the music, and then digging even deeper reveals more of that pain. From an homage to a fellow musician to a bloodletting on the tension building inside, this is an EP that, while short in stature, towers over you with its colossal spirit.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://namelessgraverecords.com/collections/nameless-grave-records-releases

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

Twisting together gore and creative tenacity into some kind of bizarre concoction is something not a lot of bands do expertly. Usually it’s one or the other, and there’s nothing wrong with that at all. But melding both worlds together is something to behold as it creates a tornadic force that is as violent as it is mind warping.

Aussie death metal power Vile Apparition show both terrifying imaginations and stunning musical prowess on their second record “Malignity,” their first in six years. It’s not like this is a new phenomenon for this band—vocalist/guitarist Jamie Colic, guitarist Jordan Fernand, bassist Noah Papworth, drummer Ollie Ballantyne—as they’ve shown a grasp for the grotesque and the brilliant at the same time. But this isn’t four guys showing off. Their skills are on full display but never become the story. Instead, they use their ability to make things more interesting, to add new spices into the blood-and-guts stew.

“Siphoning Life” opens with static snarling, the words of a serial killer sprawling, working into the first full track “Bloodletting” that bludgeons from the start. Howls mar, later mixing with piercing shrieks, the leads glimmering as the bass recoils. The pace drives and darts, the leads swimming into oblivion as the hammer drops viciously. “White Room Torture” ravages, beastly vocals flexing, the drums destroying and accelerating as manic ferocity. Guitars bend before forming a noxious cloud, and then all elements veer toward a strange spacey abyss. “A Canvas of Corpses” tears open, the drumming leaving you in the dust, throaty growls landing blows that combine with the electric assault. Guitars fire and twist as speed becomes a greater factor, injecting full intensity before vanishing. “Broken Minds” fires up immediately, growls crushing while guitars are churning, the brutality smearing with relentless precision. Growls and shrieks upend any sanity remaining while the guitars go off, illuminating a horrifying end. “Pulverised Dreams” is the biggest surprise, an instrument that opens with a flourish of classical acoustic guitar, strings aching, and fast picking reminding you they may deal with obscene horrors, but the fuckers can play, too.

“The Essence of Malignity” destroys from the start, brutality reigning as the vocals lay waste, destruction lurching across the land. The pace slows and chugs, letting the stench carry, and then things pick up in a hurry only to delve back into skull-dragging menace. “Castrated Gods” unloads, the lead scorch and take on rubbery flexibility, and then the heat multiplies, adding a smoldering finish on their insanity. Sooty growls choke as the pace pounds away mercilessly, everything coming to a blood-soaked end. “Thriving on Disease” explodes with tricky leads, tires chewing through the mud, and melodies spiraling and making the room spin. The devastation continue to mount, the soloing exploding and hurtling toward the stars, shifting back into spastic chaos that ends in a colorful sound warp. “Emulsifying Fleshpress” attacks right away, twisting limbs, compromising muscles, the growls buried into thick mud. The bass sprawls as the tempo comes unglued, crushing and thrashing, deliberately fading into a weird miasma. Closer “Decapitation Rites” is relentless, pulverizing right off the bat, the growls retching as the soloing takes command. The final half of the song is an effusive display of might, the pace punishing, howls strangling, and the guitars blazing into a final grave ensnared by cosmic echo. 

Vile Apparition have a strange mix of guttural terror and mind-blowing musicianship, and they manage to make both work in spades on “Malignity.” This record keeps warping and growing each listen, and there are so many interesting things packed between the layers of gore, that it might not seem apparent at first. This is a wrenching record that should amplify this band’s profile among death metal hordes if there is any justice in the world.

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

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

Or here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/vile-apparition-malignity-lp/

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

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

We’ve never not been in an age conformity, but now there is a government that is trying to make it law, so this is a little more extreme than what we’re used to enduring. There’s something to be said about taking you own path and not worrying what everyone else is doing. Individuality beats groupthink any day.

Emilio Rizzo had that in mind when creating “Resistant Spirit,” the new record from his Fuzznaut project. Over the course of seven years of existence, Fuzznaut created desert-like doom drone that permeates the senses and makes you see things in your head while you’re listening. The compositions here easily could be a major portion of a full-band production—any of his music could—but he uses his spirit and creativity alone over these eight tracks, turning them into their own beings that don’t need all the other elements to survive and thrive. It’s most infectious after sundown, perhaps after a drag, you know?

“Intro” brings glazing guitars, a spoken sample crackling, swimming in your brain and leading into the title track that feels properly dusty and desert dry to start. The aura gets ominous, psychedelic sentiment traveling your bloodstream, gathering and rising in spacey tension, total darkness swallowing stars. “Spacerock” is whirry and weird, guitars simmering into a gaseous cloud before a chugging pace mars your vision like smoke from burning tires. The dark fuzz grows thicker, sounds erode, and everything turns to the dirt as it fades. “Sufferlove” has a similar tone as what preceded it, acting as a nice stitch, guitars engulfing before the playing scrapes harder, working into downward spirals. Psyche shimmers blind as reflective silver shades illuminate, the playing toughening and merging with the sky, adding grey smears to the bright blue.

“Earbleeder” has riffs churning, the playing moving into shadows, doomy buzz overtaking the atmosphere. Numbing melodies emerge, Sabbathy riffs take the reins, and the back end of the track slips into hypnosis. “Defiant Prayer” hangs in echo, steely riffs reverberating, digging into morbid tones that make the surrounding air noticeably colder. Fuzz collects and the guitars brighten, paving an uneasy ambiance, the noise pounding away before dissolving into mystery. “Wind Doula” keeps the pressure on, guitars vibrating as rich playing pours sunshine into an already heated desert. You feel like you’re being baked, the Earth-like strains making you feel lightheaded, energy rippling out of that and shooting jolts of electricity. Closer “BRKN” is oddly reflective, even more than what preceded it, reverb simmering, the heat continuing to extend its grasp. Melody sticks as the mood grows spacier, guitars murmur, and the void envelopes faster than your brain has a chance to react.

Rizzo makes a lot out of minimalist parts on “Resistant Spirit,” a trait he has brought to all Fuzznaut creations. His plight to remain an individual in a sea of conformity shows he’s coming out on top, as this album easily could have plenty of other parts added to match the terrain, but it works gloriously as is. Bare bones, but not bare thoughts, less weight but more meaning, and another creation that can either ignite your fire or let it settle, depending on what your poor brain needs. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://fuzznaut.bandcamp.com/album/resistant-spirit