I don’t think it’s a stretch or even very controversial to suggest the bulk of the heavy metal world is vastly white, and while that has changed some over the past decade, we still have a long way to go before the genre can be seen as truly diverse. Different voices, experiences, and backgrounds should be encouraged and would give metal a broader appeal and be more indicative of the world.

Asian-American death metal band Ripped to Shreds is having a hand in expressing more of their life experiences and has done so over their catalog, the latest of which is the blistering and earth-shaking “劇變 (Jubian),” the project’s third full-length effort. Long helmed by Andrew Lee (vocals and guitars, though he previously recorded all of the band’s material himself), he has made sure to focus the lyrical content on the cultural context of his life as a Taiwanese American and to help amplify and celebrate artists and people like him. He and the rest of the band (bumping this to a full group)—guitarist Michael Chavez, bassist Ryan, drummer Brian Do—concentrate on historical events, the experience of being a minority in America, religious commentary, and being, as Lee says, blatantly Chinese. It’s a refreshing and much-needed perspective for heavy music, and the record is an absolute beast.  

“Violent Compulsion for Conquest” furiously opens the record as the track recounts the 1931 Mudken Incident where the Japanese army staged an explosion to justify invading Manchuria. The track splatters and hammers, the speed becomes a dangerous and present factor, and some hypnotic riffs work their way into your psyche and disarm you with force. “Split Apart by Five Chariots” has mauling drums and animalistic growls as the track sprawls its tentacles, reaching for your throat and trying to choke the life out of you. Howls echo and rip down your spine as the playing punches and gallops, and the guitars bring quaking madness that shakes you to your core. “獨孤九劍 日月神教第三節 (In Solitude – Sun Moon Holy Cult Pt 3)” is the third installment of a saga that started on the 2019 EP “魔經 – Demon Scriptures” and runs a healthy 10:33, ripping and bringing unforgiving speed. The pace destroys as the playing sizzles and burns, the guitars flood the senses, and everything boils in heaviness as the vocals land steady blows. Growls swell as the intensity continues, the band thrashes heavily, picking you apart, and then warm leads suddenly rush, ending everything on a somber note. “Harmonious Impiety” is a firebreather, delivering a savage attack and a tirade against people subservient to religion, the disgust palpable. Guitar launch as the pace throbs and crushes, blasting and rushing out forcefully.

“漢奸 (Race Traitor)” delivers glimmering leads and unquestionable power as Lee recounts his experiences living as an Asian American in a land that’s legendary for its xenophobia. Moody guitars lean into a thickening fog, the power shreds faces, and the leads rage into the sky, bringing a classy traditional metal blast that gives off infectious energy. “Reek of Burning Freedom” is an anti-war track that also reminds of the scars that remain of the U.S. bombing campaign of North Korea during the Korean War. Devastating shrieks pay off the very understandable rage, and the trudging pace delivers bodily punishment that you’ll feel for days on end. Brutality increases, the howls feed off splintering power, and the crazed energy burns to the abrupt end. “Peregrination to the Unborn Eternal Mother” brings testy riffs and vicious growls, the intensity blackening eyes. The story of the Maitreya bashes and upends psyches, savage playing floods dangerously, and fluid leads increase the passion and emotion, letting doom bells ring out as the song rests in the clouds. Closer “Scripture Containing the Supreme Internal Energy Arts That Render the Practitioner Invincible Throughout the Martial Realm” takes nearly as long to say as it does to hear as the 50-second brawler is a total and complete assault, a furious attack that drives through your chest and leaves you gasping on the floor.

Ripped to Shreds very much deserve this larger platform since they have aligned with Relapse, and “劇變 (Jubian)” not only is a generous, thunderous serving of death metal, it’s an important exposure of their Taiwanese roots that could use better understanding in their American homeland. There’s a lot to learn from the songs and their lyrical content, and the playing is supreme death played with precision, power, and energy, making it impossibly infectious. These are 35 of some of the best minutes death metal has produced this year and that this band has unleashed in their history. It also could go down as one of the subgenre’s most important creations of 2022.   

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

To buy the album, go here: https://store.relapse.com/ripped-to-shreds-jubian

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

The arrival of autumn and the darker cooler days allows me to whip out this old chestnut: Death metal sounds perfect during this season. Things are decaying from summer, the trees soon will be reduced to their skeletal selves, and the sun will be dragged over the horizon for shorter and shorter periods, activating seasonal depression for tons of people. Death metal, we summon thee.

So, it’s perfect time to take a trip with “Dreams of Dysphoria,” the debut full-length from UK death dealers Vacuous, who spread their darkness over seven deadly tracks that almost demand temperatures below 50 degrees Fahrenheit in order to fully congeal. The band—vocalist Jo Chen, guitarists Michael Brodsky and Ezra Harkin, bassist Damiano S., drummer Max Southall—mix doom and misery into their recipe, making what they do that much more flooded with misery. But they also punish you and drag you over the coals, making you feel every bit of the punishment they had planned.

“Devotion” dawns amid darkness, the doomy tides dripping and dragging, growls hissed as the band chugs and mashes your bones. The playing tears limbs apart as vicious growls multiply, the heat hypnotizes, and the guitars send fog that rest finally in the throes of torture. “Body of Punishment” ignites right away, going for your guts and rolling in misery as the speed and intensity become a bigger factor. The pace slows and simmers, wilting your flesh as the tempo slowly batters back to life, the shrieks crushing over a blistering finish. “Matriarchal Blood” sludges as vicious growls add pressure to your bruised chest, and then the drumming decimates, sending shrapnel and bone flying. The pace is relentless as the band blisters with power, the death march strangles, and the final moments make sure to stick claws in already festering wounds.

“Paranoia Rites” slithers into the picture, unloading and riding a developing storm that promises danger, the growls menacing and building. Humidity gets thicker and then the excess moisture wells and becomes hard to tread, whispers roll in and haunt, and then the track ignites, crushing and scorching into “Stigmata Scourge” that completely unloads. Vocals belch as the tempo increases and seems to be barreling out of control, leaning into slurry riffs and engorged growls that head mercilessly into an endless nightmare. “Lucid (Interlude)” slowly melts and trickles, eerie visions haunt your mind, and the back end drones in paranoia, heading into closer “Dreams of Dysphoria” that boils in doomy cauldrons. The vocals carve and gurgle as if choking on blood, melodic fire jolts in your veins, and the guitars glimmer, making the temperature difficult to handle. That chars your flesh, makes your eyes water, and drains out into disorienting, cleaner streams.

“Dreams of Dysphoria” is a scarring, psychologically haunting record, the perfect full-length introduction for Vacuous and an album that’ll haut you long after it’s over. This is dark and foreboding, death metal that’s promises more scars for your mind than actual bodily harm, which is honestly scarier. The emotions and terrors are heavy and unavoidable, and you can only hope to escape with your mental well-being not completely ground to bits.

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

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

Or here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/vacuous-dreams-of-dysphoria-vinyl/

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

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

I’ve been listening to heavy metal since the middle of the 1980s, which means two things. First, I’m old as fuck. Second, I’ve had one hell of an enriching experience over that time listening to this style develop, watching new approaches pop up, and witnessing cycles repeat. It’s a pretty great wealth of knowledge to have, and it makes hearing bands unearth classic sounds an endless nostalgia trip.

Black thrashers Daeva have been one of those bands that makes my decades of worshipping at the altar of metal pay off, as their full-length debut “Through Sheer Will and Black Magic…” is a trip through multiple eras of the most powerful form of music on earth. Before this, we had an EP from the band—vocalist Edward Gonet, guitarist Steve Jansson, bassist Frank Chin, drummer Enrique Sagarnaga, three quarters of the awesome Crypt Sermon—so this nine-track effort held a lot of anticipatory excitement for me. Now that it’s here, it pays off that initial batch of songs and goes even further, delivering danger, madness, and filthy chaos that is informed by thrash, black metal, and even the mangiest of punk. It contains so much of the heavy metal canon but bent to their will, making something fresh and dangerous that sounds like it’s stalking you at night to drain your blood.

“Intro (Emanations)” enters in strange and eerie noises as the moodiness gets danker, heading into “The Architect and the Monument” that sweeps in and hammers you with speed. Gonet howls, “Curses and pointed repugnancy, delivered slow and monotone,” as the playing chugs and melts, the furious heat increasing and leaning hard on your frayed nerves. The soloing rips as the vocals continue to punish, blasting until an abrupt end. “Arena at Dis” splatters as the vocals rip and wail, the punishing playing dealing bruising blows. “Enter the champion, every knuckle cracks, making a fist around the handle of a mace, only one will remain within the charged cage,” Gonet levels as things come unglued, and the band amplifies the thrashy horror, smothering and jabbing its way out. “Passion Under the Hammer” has guitars jolting, the vocals scraping, and attacks coming from every angle. The temperature rises as the power gets more oppressive, the playing fades momentarily for clean guitars to trickle, and a foggy chill drives this home. “Loosen the Tongue of the Dead” clubs hard, playing fast and ferociously, the vocals ripping at flesh. A chant-like chorus sends chills as mystical winds blow, the blazing picks up again, and that intensity charges until it fades in the darkness.

“Fragmenting in Ritual Splendor” explodes with frustrated grunts and the tempo blasting, taking off and letting your blood rush through your veins. The playing gets reckless and mangling as the guitars tear off the lid, the shrieks destroy, and speed kills to the end. “Polluting the Sanctuary (Revolutions Against Faith)” enters amid riffs racing for an edge, the vocals feeling like they’re trying to crush your digits. The guitars try to tangle and trip you up as the metallic charges increase dangerously, bringing absolute hell as Gonet ends the tirade with, “Embrace death’s cold kiss, Revolutions! Against! Faith!” “Itch of the Bottle” clobbers right off the bat, digging into the earth and triggering lava flow, the vocals scorching and jabbing. The playing is fast and disruptive as the guitar work squeezes throats, the drums gallop viciously, and the riffs smear soot in your mouth, leaving you choking on the bitterness. Closer “Luciferian Return” is the longest track on here, running 7:07 and blinding as it establishes a dangerous environment. “Shattering the seraphs on cold and unyielding surfaces of polished glass, meteoric fumes of the lusting blockade reach far and wide, enormous force has isolated the kingdom, haunting sounds like razors in a furious spin,” Gonet waxes furiously, the fires raining down from the skies as the pace twists and turns, even leaning into hypnotic waters. The drums pummel, the guitars encircle, and the final moments spread fires of eternal damnation.

The madness and torment Daeva lather all over “Through Sheer Will and Black Magic…” does an expert job mixing eras, dining from the thrash’s origins in the ’80s, black metal’s rise to power in the ’90s, and the volatility of today’s brand of existence. It’s impossible to walk away from this record not fully torched, feeling like you’ve been through a vile struggle that tries to claim your psyche. This is a relentless battle, spiritual torment that turns your well-being to pools of blood and piss in which you are forced to tread.

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

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

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

Feeling like you can’t take anymore and not knowing where you’re going to find your next reserve of energy, if you even have any stored away, is one of the most frustrating experiences one can endure. It gets your anger, anxiety, and frustration activated, and it can be so much that trying to find calm and reason can be an impossible mission around which no arms could possibly wrap.

When you first read the word “Threshold,” the title of the new record from Cloud Rat, any number of ideas can go through your head. But if you head straight toward a situation that has someone on the brink of sanity, having endured all they can take, then you’re headed in the right direction. The Michigan-based grindcore/punk trio—vocalist Madison Marshall, guitarist/keyboard player/sample artist Rorik Brooks, drummer Brandon Hill—have a spoil of riches that is their vast back catalog, and as time has gone on, they have incorporated many different elements into the sound, refusing to remain uniform. On “Threshold,” the band puts forth some of their most volatile, devastating content. It’s a firestormer, but it also still has plenty of interesting bends in the road that will have you holding on for dear life, and the emotion they put forth floods dangerously from their hearts.

“Aluminum Branches” opens with noise welling and Marshall’s raspy screams decimating, landing punches as the playing slashes and later mauls. There is a moment where the chaos calms a bit, but it’s a temporary respite that ends in shocking fury. “The Color of a Dog” stabs and combusts, the playing mangling as moodiness rears its head, and then everything is turned to strangulating bloodshed that ruptures minds. “Inner Controller (Lucid Running Home)” utterly thrashes as Marshall’s vocals leave bruising, and an electronic buzz rises and torments, the speed swallowing you whole. “Cusp” fires up and steamrolls, trudging as Marshall’s vocals hang like a morbid cloud above the din, her shrieks knifing into veins as things come unglued and eventually dissolve into the earth. “12-22-09” is murkier and darker, the vocals weaving into your psyche, the guitars lighting up and jolting with electricity. The drums punish as the playing gets even more daring, anguished wails working their way into your heart. “Listening Ear” slowly blazes before noise tears it apart, the vocals utterly rip, and the speed encircles, hurtling you toward “Shepherd” that bathes in metallic riffs. The pace bursts as the vocals are throaty and blunt, the panic stabbing its way into the earth. “Imaging Order” changes the pace with melodic riffs and heavy atmosphere before the assault explodes, Marshall howling, “Destroy!” The guitars race as punk energy hammers, Marshall continues to command with force, and angelic noise rises from the charred remains to gasp a hint of beauty.

“Persocom” is battering as guitars tangle and spread, speed torments, and Marshall’s howls leave dents in your chest. “Porcelain Boat” is insanely aggressive, punishing as the drums become a war machine, harsh shrieks opening up once-congealing wounds that now ooze all over again. “Kaleidoscope” opens with synthy chills and heavy fog, bringing more of a straight-up rock vibe that gives you a little breather from the wall-to-wall chaos. Later, that blows up as carnage collects, a melodic gust makes your blood rush, and a strange bed of keys helps you properly disassociate. “Ribbon Boat” charges in with fiery vocals and punk thunder, the gargantuan screams and beastly playing forming something you can’t even dream of challenging. “Corset” is mathy and smashing, the vocals destroy, and the drumming turns bones to dust. The elements combust as the pace jabs and sizzles, riffs thicken, and the final gust makes the blood race through your veins. “Ursitory” unloads with vocals that aim to choke you, and then an odd excursion heads into calmer waters, Marshall flexing her cleaner voice to kelp soothe wounds. Echoes rupture and the temperatures rise dangerously, heading into closer “Babahaz.” Noise hovers like a dark cloud, and then the playing jars viciously, the vocals defacing everything in its presence. Deep growls carve as the playing gets thrashier, melodies emerge that reek of black metal, and the power finally combusts, ending this race in calm, cool waters that wash away your pain.

The hurt, frustration, and anger paced into “Threshold” is palpable, a beast that works with you and against you, helping you see and understand the darkness but leaving it up to you to find a way to friendly shores. Cloud Rat not only sum up the torment in their own hearts and minds, but they also help align with all of us who have suffered greatly and been at sanity’s edge far more often than most of us would be willing to admit. It’s madness, agony, and catharsis laid out over 15 venomous tracks that will put you to the test but also leave you more battle tested and calloused for your next bout with hell.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://artoffact.com/releases/threshold/

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

I like to think I have a pretty strong stomach when it comes to obscene horrors, at least when it comes to movies and television. Real-life stuff probably would not go down quite as well with me, but we’ll cross that disgusting bridge if and when we get to it. Having it packed into music so I can escape like a terrifying film is something that’s exciting, though, especially in the season in which we’re enjoying.

Blood, guts, and terrifying bodily transformations are smeared all over “Xenoviscerum,” the debut from Human Corpse Abuse. The band—guitarist/bassist/vocalist Shelby Lermo (Vastum, Ulthar) and drummer Adam Jarvis (Pig Destroyer, Misery Index, Lock Up)—apply menacing levels of grind, powerviolence, death metal, punk, and many other foul colors to mash over these 12 tracks and 17 minutes of run time. Yes, technically there are a dozen songs, but the entire thing is meant to be digested as a single, non-stop piece, and considering you’re not asked to devote a terribly large amount of time, no way this should be a problem no matter how limited your attention span. It’s also helps that the thing is morbidly fascinating, deviously brutal, and packed with abrasive noise that easily captures your attention.

“Spinefucker” churns and crushes as it knifes into existence, spewing violence as vicious shrieks deface, coming unglued as we head into “Cerulean Offal” and its weird and nightmarish synth. Then things get maniacal as the playing corrodes, snarling and pulverizing, tearing everything to shreds as we knife into “Suckling at the Wheal” that immediately lands haymakers. Monstrous hell erupts as wild shrieks undo your mental health, and the playing splatters hard, ending with crazed cries. “Tumor Eater” is a piledriver delivered with little concern for your neck’s health as the gut-ripping riffs explode, clobbering and leaving you reaching for walls with little to no balance. “Endoparasitic Cranial Plasmoid” brings vocal torment and drumming that feels like it’s trying to end your life, the shriek/growl mix doing ample damage and smearing your juices on the ground. “Convulsing Labyrinth of Flesh” is thrashy and intense, punishing as guttural chugging wrecks your digestive system, spreading agony before it flees after having left a sizable pool of blood behind.

“Strangulation Ritual” is blinding right off the bat, the growls gurgling amid the gears of a beastly assault. The guitars go off, snarling with intensity before ripping out your guts. “Spiraling Teeth” is mashing but also has a hypnotic urge that sizzles with relentlessness, burning before it fades out and allows “Necroformicophilia” into the room, delivering total and complete demolition. Everything comes apart as the track is consumed by animalistic hell that blows in, destroys everything, and leaves only tatters behind. “Skinsect” absolutely dissects its victim, turning everything to a pile of goo as the playing deals in complete ferocity that sinks into sludgy pools. “Cryptoglossus (Gallery of Tongues)” explodes out of the gates as growls and shrieks unite and torture, and the insane pace twists your bones into interesting new shapes that will be impossible to reverse. Closer “We Are All in Hell” (featuring vocals from Nails’ Todd Jones) is the epic of the bunch, running 2:57 and bludgeoning and trampling, multiplying the thrashy madness. Shrieks gut as the playing mauls with precision, pouring blood and shards of bone as a sci-fi-style synth blanket covers everything and ends in total darkness.

“Xenoviscerum” is an experience that doesn’t last very long, is over before you know it, and for some reason, it’ll feel like you’ve been through a fight pit and endless bouts you never had a prayer of winning. Human Corpse Abuse dump a ton of influences and sounds into this 12-movement assault, so many that it’s difficult to get a hold of them on your first trip through, or even your 50^th. This is intense, violent, and vile, a total and complete beating that will drain blood and marrow from your quivering body, scarring you physically and psychologically.  

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

To buy the album, go here: https://caligarirecords.bandcamp.com/album/xenoviscerum

Or here (CD, Americas and Europe): https://selfmadegod-store.com/product-eng-14349-HUMAN-CORPSE-ABUSE-Xenoviscerum-CD-PRE-ORDER.html

Or here (CD, Asia): https://obliterationrecords.bandcamp.com/album/xenoviscerum

Or here (digital): https://darkdescentrecords.bandcamp.com/

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

And here: https://selfmadegod.com/

And here: http://www.obliteration.jp/

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

I read an interview with Alice Cooper once who was ruminating on how to create a song and the formula of verse-chorus-verse-chorus-rinse-repeat that he obviously sticks to and has worked for tons of artists. I’m not criticizing Alice, as I get what he’s saying, but there is more than one way to create art, and a song should not necessarily have to answer to rigid guidelines in order to be considered worthy.

I adore Alice (his music; not his politics), but his head would explode if he had to endure “Into This Juvenile Apocalypse Our Golden Blood to Pour Let Us Never,” the third collaboration between Sumac and Japanese free-form artist Keiji Haino. I fear his formulaic heart would explode if he encountered these six tracks that run nearly an hour combined and absolutely challenge what you might think a song should be. That’s hardly new territory for Sumac—guitarist/vocalist Aaron Turner, bassist Brian Cook, drummer Nick Yacyshyn—and Haino, but on this collaboration, they went a step further, setting up live at the Astoria Hotel in Vancouver and creating spontaneously with no one knowing what would transpire. The effects are awe inspiring, inventive, and intimidating, a record that requires multiple visits to even begin absorbing in full. That’s honestly half the fun.

“When logic rises morality falls Logic and morality in Japanese are but one character different” is your 12:11-long opener, flowing open and wandering, delving into noise howls and pulsating scrapes that feels like they’re eating into your ribcage. Haino’s howls break any serenity, drunken guitars sprawl, and the sounds crash to earth like a wounded satellite, brining pattering power before everything dissolves into calm. “A shredded coiled cable within this cable sincerity could not be contained” dawns in feedback squalls as the drums lumber, and the playing sends jolts through your nervous system. Plucked strings feel like they’re poking as your psyche, then Turner’s unmistakable roar breaks through barriers, letting the chaos build and the noise hammer. Further howls blister, the playing sizzles and fries, and the drums plaster as the full assault slips into the clouds. The title track runs 11:47 and slowly comes to life, letting the pressure collect and the guitars spread in calculated manner. Connections rattle as blood collects in your eardrums, bending and blinding, the drums turning everything into a fine paste. The power scorches, the elements pummel, and its juices are poured into the planet’s core.

“Because the evidence of a fact is valued over the fact itself truth??? becomes fractured” is the longest track at 12:13, fading in from oblivion and trickling as Haino howls relentlessly, repeating his mantras as the playing develops a sense of dread. The sound feels like it melts into a metallic pool, swinging through dreamier passages before stopping at wiry impulses that emerge from the fog. The storm seems to increase as the playing begins to melt, electric jabs raise flesh, and everything grows moody and misty before disappearing. “That fuzz pedal you planted in your throat, its screw has started to come loose Your next effects pedal is up to you do you have it ready?” is a complete blizzard of noise as it enters, chugging and mauling, the roars detonating. Feedback scales as the playing develops a jet engine vitality, Haino wails toward the heavens, and the lapping power seeks to pull you under, ending in a bed of sonic annihilation. Closer “That ‘regularity’ of yours, can you throw it further than me? And I don’t mean ‘discarding’ it” is the shortest track, running 5:37 and unleashing doom that coats the earth. The drumming sprawls as the ripple of fury tortures your brain, teasing and releasing, leaving you charred.

This new collaboration between Sumac and Keiji Haino is something that’s astonishing to accept at face value, and once you realize the particulars of how this piece came together, it’s even more mind blowing to absorb. “Into This Juvenile Apocalypse Our Golden Blood to Pour Let Us Never” is hard to compare to their two previous excursions because it’s its own beast, something that can’t be measured regarding other creations. It’s an experience to behold, preferably alone, maybe with an altered mind, as there is so much here to endure, that undivided attention is the only gift you can offer these artists who left all of what they had on the stage. Song formulas be damned to hell.

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

And here: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100024839485399

To buy the album, go here: https://thrilljockey.com/products/into-this-juvenile-apocalypse-our-golden-blood-to-pour-let-us-never

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

I’m good at a handful of things, none of them expert level, certainly zero of them things that other people would envy or be astonished to see in practice. It’s OK. I’ve come to terms. It makes me a little envious sometimes when I do encounter other people with skills that are so compelling, I don’t even know how to approach an inch of their ability. It’s why I write and don’t perform music.

Australian death metal force Faceless Burial not only are a strong unit when it comes to creating their art; they’re also such technically proficient players that it’s kind of intimidating. On their splattering third record “At the Foothills of Deliration,” the band—vocalist/bassist/synth player Alex Macfarlane, guitarist Füj, drummer Max Kohane—create a cacophony of death metal madness that’s incredibly well played and almost scientific in its execution, but it never leaves behind the heart and emotion. Over six tracks and about 40 minutes, the band turns out a blistering performance that’s flexible, creative, and smothering in the best way possible.

“Equipoise Recast” bursts and turns into a rubbery assault, the playing crunching, the melodies twisting your brain into a pretzel. Things spiral and the vocals get more aggressive, and the hostility continues to multiply, later allowing some spacious energy into the room. Things get tricky and then hazy, the growls engorge, and things ripple out of control. “A Mire of Penitence” mauls as the growls boil, and the insanity hits a fever pitch as gears eat into your flesh. Carnage swells as the thick bass flexes, crushing wills as the playing grinds, and the final bursts rob your lungs of breath. “Dehiscent” tears open and hammers with reckless abandon, creating infernal energy that singes the flesh. The energy spikes as the drumming bores into the earth, the guitar work hisses, and then everything is flattened as proggy thunder levels buildings.

“From the Bastion to the Pit” trudges in grime and continues to get filthier by the moment, devastating with a pace that’s impossible to handle. The force switches paths as it stabs and dares, the growls lurch, and the terrain grows more demonic and intimidating. The playing swelters as the bass snakes through mud, the drums turn planets to dust, and the smearing fury leaves ash in your mouth. “Haruspex at the Foothills of Deliration” is a brief, strange instrumental that’s muggy and situates in clean guitars and a bizarre haze that stretches into closer “Redivivus Through Vaticination” that’s utterly menacing. Growls bury your fear in aggression, the guitars spark a strangling tempo, and hellish battery increases and hunts you down. Guitars zap as the band offers up some final muscle-wrecking power, decimating and suddenly getting ripped away by an abrupt ending.

Faceless Burial obviously have a stranglehold on the more technical aspects of playing death metal, but their creations are anything but antiseptic and showy at the expense of the music. “At the Foothills of Deliration” is another masterful execution of the heaviest, gnarliest of metallic forms, done in such a way that it makes you wonder how the fuck they did this and also keeps you fully immersed in the adventure. It’s hard to ask more for from that from a band such as this, and they continually knock this thing out of the park.

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

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

Or here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/faceless-burial-at-the-foothills-of-deliration-vinyl/

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

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

It’s crucial to have a spot to ruminate on issues or one’s own philosophies in a place that’s secure and doesn’t threaten ideas that could trigger those who don’t feel the same way. Having your own territory to explore your mind and ideas is crucial to becoming a fuller person, and as long as those subjects aren’t feeding off fascism or oppression, it’s a great way to enhance your intellectuality.

New England crushers Escuela Grind center on that idea with their thunderous second full-length “Memory Theater.” The title is based on a concept where a space created by those thoughts, feelings, and philosophies is formed, and these thunderous nine tracks are just that for this band—vocalist  Katerina Economou, guitarist Kris Morash, bassist Tom Sifuentes, drummer Jesse Fuentes. This is as volatile creation that also involves Economou’s studies in history, politics and experiential events, along with her own life (a sort of memory play, as it were) and piles that into this pit of explosiveness that aims to destroy those whose goal is to keep people down and fight back against power structures with no interest in equity. It’s so great hearing more bands embrace these ideas and lashing back at the growing tyrannical embrace so many people are inexplicably embracing. This music is more vital than ever.

“Endowed With Windows” opens with urgency, firing up and sludging, easily leaving bruising. “Access my mind through all its windows,” Economou howls, “Not through my hormones nor through my skin tone,” as the track rips away. “My Heart, My Hands” explodes and hammers, sending jolts through your nervous system, chugging and splattering, smearing menace that’s lined with blood. “Cliffhanger” feels doomy and dark when it starts, but then the detonation sends sparks flying, the thrashy fire claiming victims. “Don’t push me because I’m close to the edge,” Economou warns, the playing slowly swaggering and burying you in sand. “Strange Creature” brings trampling guitars and power that corrodes, adding grit that leaves abrasions on the skin. “Banished from the ground, banished from the sea, banished from the spirit,” Economou wails as the menace builds, and the playing melts flesh.

“Faulty Blueprints” is blinding and filled with rage, slaughtering and draining marrow from bone. The guitars swoop as the massacre increases, the words, “Must not rebuild faulty blueprints,” spat from Economou’s mouth. “All Is Forgiven” crushes as the drums mash, and the playing sends bone fragments sprawling. Economou shrieks and rakes you across the coals as the pace gallops dangerously, and the playing stampedes to its end. “Forced Collective Introspection” is absolutely storming, overwhelming before you even know what hit you. The playing continues to get faster and gnarlier, and things are properly unhinged, Economou shouting, “Feels like you got something you want to say, crisis is a terrible thing to waste,” as the final moments are stomped into the ground. “The Feed” mashes as everything comes unglued, the vocals destroying everything in its path. The channeled aggression releases stream that’s built up inside, guitars sweep, ad the drums splatter, letting the blood drip and pool. The closing title track rings out before engaging violently, the fiery vocals elevating your body temperature. The energy is thick and rich, the playing has a manic desperation, and Economou wails, “When I dream, I see skin flailing, loose from tissue, gilt as a painting,” leaving terrifying imagery in your brain as the record comes to a devastating end.

For the cowardly crowd that cries over everything being woke, Escuela Grind is a band you won’t survive, “Memory Theater” a record that will elevate the quivering fear you feel in your guts. This band’s brand of muscular grind is empowering, fights back against people trying to rewrite rules to move the gears of oppression, and fears no one who is trying to stand in the way. The record gets your blood rushing, your strength pooling, and your fists clenched as you join to battle the forces trying to hold you back and bury them deep into the earth.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://mnrkheavy.com/collections/escuela-grind

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

I’m going to be super disappointed if one day we finally make contact with intelligent life on other worlds and they end up just being other humans like us. I’m prepared for other humanoids, but I want to them to be exotic and completely different from us. I probably won’t live to see this happen, so I’m not super worried about it, but it’s going to occur one day, and I hope it’s mind blowing (and that I’m still alive).

Newly formed death metal trio Labyrinth of Stars has intergalactic storytelling and examination at their core, and they splash that all over their devastating debut album “Spectrum Xenomorph.” Combining members of other metallic forces including Lantlos, Valborg, and Owl, the band—Markus Siegenhort aka AcidGhost Athereum (vocals, rhythm guitars, bass, synthesizer), Christian Kolf aka Invisible X-Star (vocals, lead & rhythm guitars, bass, keyboards), Dirk Stark aka Transcendent Architect Astralis (vocals)—creates black metal that’s furious, encompassing, and even industrial-leaning in many corners, always leaving room for your imagination to run wild as they dig into extraterrestrial terrain.

“Star Pervertor” feels like it tears in from light years away, delivering stomping that feels like it’s built from alien particles and industrial haze. The playing is piledriving, sinking a knife into the earth, vibrating amid total devastation. “Aethereal Solitude” starts with clean guitars that melt and grind away, pounding through muddy pools of hell. Voices swirl in the air as the playing gets more guttural, crushing hypnotically as it claims your mind. “Ancient Machines in Authority” explodes as the vocals sink in its teeth, trudging hard as you choke from the thick smoke cover hanging overhead. The chorus hits hard as the leads catch fire, a proggy feel twists your brain, and chilling synth leaves you encapsulated in ice. “Log Gamma – Orphan With An Abstract Face” is a quick interlude that sounds like it is delivering transmissions from galaxies far away, feeling frigid and isolated as you wander through the cosmos.

“Galactic Ritual” is devastating, pouring fire and multiplying the monstrous assault that’s coming right for your throat. The lava bubbles as it multiplies at dangerous levels, and the band turns on the burners, scorching and defacing as the cries demand, “Release me!” as things fade into dust. “Vacuum” opens with mechanical terror and power that punches into the crust of the earth. The playing melts into an atmospheric dream as clean trickles push like they’re trapped under ice, the howls reengaging the fury that’s a constant element of this record. “Dissolving Into the Eternal Nothingness” bleeds in and then trudges through blood and bone, the savagery wading in thick oceans of oil. The playing blisters and trudges, delivering dour spirits that slowly dissolve into the night sky. “Transmission Delta – Exile” is the 12:41-long closer that’s an extended ambient piece, one that’ll chill you to the bone. Bass plods as the sound vortex envelopes you, detaching you from reality and building pressure that feels like it’ll make your face explode and belch guts, rumbling into temperatures no human being could withstand.

“Spectrum Xenomorph” is a scintillating journey into worlds not visited by human beings where the darkness is impenetrable, the cold a physical prison. This first record from Labyrinth of Stars might be one that combines hefty forces from other metal projects, but this band is not pinned to any of those entities and exists as its own spirit. This is exciting, scary, and isolated, an album that’ll make you know fear but also adventure as you hurtle into black holes in your own mind.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://translationloss.com/products/spectrum-xenomorph

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

There’s a level of violence and devastation one normally expects from death metal, whether or not that’s fair. It’s not like there’s only one way to do things, and as long as it’s something that gets inside your guts and makes you feel the torture, the approach philosophically and lyrically can be any number of things. And it can be fun. That’s OK, even if it’s gross and blook soaked.

When it comes to one-man death bruiser Stormland, long helmed by Justin Pierrot, you’re going to get playing that squeezes your nerve endings, technical prowess that never forgets to add heart, and … tons of tales about the anime creation Mobile Suit Gundam meta-series. I’ll admit up front I know fuck all about this nor Gundam as a whole, but I walked away from “The Human Cost” thoroughly entertained and now somewhat informed about the basics, which I may examine further. Pierrot leapt into the Gundam world on the first Stormland full-length “Songs of Future Wars,” and before that the topic field ranged from politics to Stephen Colbert to fucking Bas Rutten. It’s been a rich collection of ideas that has always made Stormland a good time. But delving again into the Gundam universe makes for as record that’s still violent, plenty bloody, usually ominous, and packed with death metal glory on an eight-track, compact serving of an album that never forgets to entertain you. WITH DEATH!

“Marida” begins, a track based on the character Marida Cruz that bursts wide open and delivers a frantic pace that keeps up the entire track. “You watched your sisters get annihilated, somehow you survived unspeakable things, how could you forgive? Now let violence ring,” Pierrot howls, the leads glimmering, and a spacious jolt swallowing everything whole. “Esper” delivers drumming crashing and slashing death giving a disorienting beating. The guitar work takes on a burst of atmosphere, the low end crushes, and everything speeds up before chugging out. “Extreme Reaction” explodes with zany guitars and an explosive thrust into the stars, the howls rampaging along the way. “Adopting this identity, I am what has saved me, if I can ever be redeemed, I must transcend humanity,” Pierrot belts, the chorus spiraling, ending with the declaration, “I am become Gundam!” The playing continues to open and reverberate, hammering out the final declarations. “Test Subject” is harsh and sludgy as it starts, and there’s even a Korn/Sepultura filthiness that feels oddly satisfying. Pierrot is joined on vocals by Leda Paige (of SISSY XO and The Hallowed Catharsis among others), and her howls over the chorus carve into your mind and let you bleed out from psychosis.

“Lethal Ballet” starts with clean guitars haunting before the energy begins to jolt, and thrashy goodness blasts through, sending cinders flying. There’s a lot of color and variety in the playing, making an already interesting record a little more vibrant, and as Pierrot wails, “To survive another day, time expands as I dance between the beams, I shoot to kill,” the danger is amplified and blisters out. “Rebuilt for Your Whims” features Ross Sewage (Exhumed, Ghoul, Ludicra, etc.) and enters amid a humid atmosphere, the dueling vocals mixing toxicity nicely. The thrashing bruises ribs as the mud thickens, and the spiraling punishment bleeds away. “Beast of Possibility” brings sweltering leads that tease and threaten, and then things get sooty, burying your face into ashes. “What happens when the key opens so much more? When you’ve been given the Beast of Possibility?” Pierrot drives, barreling toward challenging terror and eventually a brief respite of calm. The soloing picks up speed, the viciousness drives the knife, and everything comes to an ultraviolent end. Closer “Beyond Gravity, Outside Time” is an imaginative, even breezy instrumental that takes on some jazzy dashes and swelling melodies, switching back to mauling waves that crash over and wash you away.

Stormland and Pierrot figure out a way to make death metal that’s still plenty violent and twisted, yet in the fantastical world of Gundam, so it’s best of both worlds. “The Human Cost” is a rather compact adventure that is content to blister you with energy and passion and never comes close to overstaying its welcome. This is a gut-wrenching and fun adventure into an anime classic series that doesn’t require your knowledge to enjoy this battering but likely makes it even richer if you’re tied into Gundam.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://stormland.bandcamp.com/