Bands are not required by law to adhere to the same formula their entire careers. Yeah, fans will bitch that the sounds have charged or aren’t exactly the same on every record or all of that, but staying a course when one’s heart isn’t in it peels back the genuine nature of their art. Plus, making changes can invigorate a band for the better.

Doom road warriors Blackwater Holylight have delivered three strong full-lengths (the last one being 2021’s great “Silence/Motion”) and scuffed-up power, but on their new EP “If You Only Knew,” they show an entirely different side, one that’s a little poppier and flush with different colors from what we’ve seen and heard before. The band—singer/guitarist/bassist Sunny Faris, keyboard player Sarah McKenna, guitarist Mikayla Mayhew, drummer Eliese Dorsay—sounds transformed, maintaining their ties to doom but adding more shoegaze and psychedelic elements to a formula that already was pretty strong. It took a few visits to fully wrap my head around this EP, but the effort is worth it as the music really works.

“Wandering Lost” blossoms with keys spreading, Faris’ breezy singing floating over, as noted a pretty stark departure from the band’s normal sound. Guitars darken as the pace toughens, eventually ripping open and letting more explosive elements roam. The leads get fuzzier and heated, the keys wash over like a medicine drip, and everything fades into sound. “Torn Reckless” opens with neon synth and a bouncier, gazier path forward, a smooth chorus making for easier sailing. The verses are a little more atmospheric than the choruses, which pull you back into the rock pile. A pillowy sheen hugs while the guitars float in clouds, all basking in the feedback. “Fate Is Forward” is foggy with guitars drizzling, Faris’ softer singing prodding, the pace eventually opening wider, synth luring you on a road to the chorus. Shades brighten as keys glow and the vocals lightly scathe, the guitars smearing before draining away. Closer “All I Need,” a cover of the Radiohead song, has guitars hanging in the air, drums tracing, and higher-register singing, giving off a cool nighttime vibe. The keys emerge and soothe, and the pace begins to pick up, the guitars coating, a cool rush icing flesh, and everything looping out into oblivion.

“If You Only Knew” shows a completely different side of Blackwater Holylight, but it keeps intact their penchant for doom and darkness, served with a breath of cooler, cleaner air. Not sure if this is the new direction for this band or if this is more of an experiment, but this works for them, and if they folded this style with their edgier work, they might have something here. This is a sleek change of pace for this band, once that adds to their already powerful repertoire. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://store.suicidesqueeze.net/

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

In baseball, there are several rounds of minor leagues that players go through as they make their way to the majors. And not everyone makes it. A lot do not. Even prized prospects, first-round picks, and more fall by the wayside because they don’t have what it takes to get there. Others rocket through the system to stardom, though that’s rare.

I don’t want to necessarily suggest Italian doom dreamers Messa were not ready for the major leagues before their excellent new record “The Spin,” their fourth. They were always ready, from their 2016 debut “Belfry” right up to 2022’s “Close.” They always proved they had what it takes, creating emotionally ripe, smoking power that they dubbed “scarlet doom.”  But “The Spin” is their first for the legendary Metal Blade, and this move up to wider recognition is something long deserved by the band—vocalist Sara, guitarist/bassist Marco, guitarist Alberto, drummer Rocco. Here, they deliver a record that maintains their might but also trims down the run time on many of the tracks, with only two going past eight minutes. They refined and stripped back their approach while also adding a hefty serving of ’80s-style goth rock to their mix that works perfectly. This record took me a few listens to get used to the surroundings, but now that I’ve been through it many times, it might be my favorite of theirs so far. And if it gets the right push, it should make Messa a household name for underground heshers. 

“Void Meridian” starts with unexpected synth pulses (you won’t be shocked for long), and Sara lets loose her spellbinding voice. “All the bones you can find at crossroads, the ones that push you down, can you hear the call in the distance? How far can you go now?” she wails, the guitars blazing with color, the chorus flushing back and zapping away. “At Races” opens with surging guitars and plunging verses, Sara calling, “Waiting for me to run.” The playing chills a bit, but the chorus sweeps over everything, Sara singing, “Every stare weighs on my saddle bags,” their icy daggers heading into a foggy jolt. The guitars take off, the vocals simmer, and the chorus punches back, the energy entering into the dark. “Fire on the Roof” has the synth driving, excitedly so, making it feel like you’re tunneling back into ’80s chill. The neon beams blast into a driving tempo, the vocals rippling muscles, a great chorus setting your heart on fire. The guitars activate and engulf everything, the playing incinerating your heart to a crisp. “Immolation” basks in calling keys, Sara taking on a higher register, wailing on the chorus, “It is like a beautiful weight on my heart, please run away, please.” Guitars spill over and overcome with emotion, eventually turning to a mournful slide, the fires burning out on of the band’s finest tracks.

“The Dress” runs 8:15, one of the two tracks here with longer run times. The playing slowly flows and the synth glimmers, Sara singing, “I’m trapped inside a nice velvet, blue dress, don’t even love myself anymore.” The chorus then ruptures through the earth, Sara calling, “All my monsters, ready to feed!” Horns slip in, a jazzy ambiance encircling, and then the guitars increase the intensity, and Sara belts, “Coming over, eating my heart,” almost like a dare. “Reveal” dawns with swampy slide guitars, feeling like it’s coming from the Delta, and then things pick up as the electricity swaggers, and the drums come alive, spattering. “The end, the end is hell,” Sara levels, the guitars tearing flesh from bone, smoking and buzzing, disintegrating into fumes. “Thicker Blood” closes, a 8:45-minute saga that enters in a magical, cosmic synth storm, Sara’s sultry singing stinging with, “Decapitated sun on this forest bed, dismay’s returning so clear and so bright.” The tempo continues to increase, guitars flooding with emotion, Sara wailing, “Mother hear me, I’ll go further, I’m so ready to be my fate.” Gritty guitars segue into shivering chill, the sounds tingle and drive, and then one final feral scream lashes red as everything fades away.

Messa deliver a trim, channeled record with “The Spin,” an album that can lure in a much wider audience with a strong new label and a sound that remains true. They are mesmerizing and smoking, blending their style of “scarlet doom” into another enrapturing collection that just gets better the more you hear it. The band put its best foot forward on this record, and every moment of this is powered with a magic from beyond.

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

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

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

Most bands that have successful runs have a record you can point back to as the one that started the momentum. That’s where everything the artists involved put into their mix really exploded in a good way, and it ends up being a jumping off point for them to reach even higher heights.

I’m guessing the listeners who are introduced to Tower through their great new record “Let There Be Dark,” their third, may end up feeling this way, like this is where things really got started. This feels like the band—vocalist Sarabeth Linden, guitarists James Danzo and Zak Penley, bassist Philippe Arman, drummer Keith Mikus—truly hitting on all cylinders, adding more heaviness but also additional melody. From the first listen, I was hooked, and I’ve been a fan of the band since their 2016 self-titled debut and really enjoyed 2021’s “Shock to the System.” But there’s something different here, and underlying dark majesty, that really pulls this all together and shines like nothing they’ve done before. We’re likely to look back at “Let There Be Dark” as the band’s true coming out moment, the album that showed what they’re capable of and threatened more in the future. It scorches.

“Under the Chapel” starts off the record and immediately thrusts you into a darker version of the band, guitars flowing as Linden’s voice wraps everything in fire. Her voice is in full command, and the band gets more aggressive behind her, the guitars blazing, and the tempo daring you to step in its way. “Let There Be Dark” has guitars thickening, driving and drilling, gang voices helping give the chorus more thrust, Linden’s shriek of the word “dark” blackening eyes. Some of the singing sounds righteously spat out, everything coming to a huge finish. “Holy Water” begins with bells chiming, liturgical chants spiraling, the guitars smearing soot into prone mouths, “I’m begging on my knees, don’t forsake me,” Linden pleads, the guitars sweltering and swinging harder, burying the tension. “And I Cry” is steamy and tingles, the leads heating up as Linden’s singing is more reflective. The pace picks up, leading into a simple, but effective chorus, the player later scalding as the heat rises, sizzling before the noise fades. “The Well of Souls” is a brief instrumental with acoustics taking to the wind, a folkish bend adding rustic illumination.

“Book of the Hidden” crushes open, Linden’s voice taking control, burning into a strange haze. “So it is written, so it is sealed,” she wails, the guitars adding more menace, driving hard through flooding melodies and surging moodiness. “Legio X Fretensis” is another quick instrumental, taking on a Latin vibe, acoustics kicking up dust, leading toward “Iron Clad” that’s incredibly catchy as it starts, riffs powering the way. The singing coats wounds as the pace races, Linden later turning toward a throttling howl, the guitars blazing and creating a thick screen of smoke, torching to a rupturing end. “Don’t You Say” begins with guitars sparkling, reminding of vintage Dokken, and the slower-moving pace lets the sticky energy permeate the atmosphere. The playing kicks into higher gear as the intensity picks up noticeably, fading into smoke. Closer “The Hammer” gets your blood racing right away, a melodic chorus taking hold as Linden warns, “Here comes the hammer!” The guitars take on an old Maiden-style gallop as boisterous “woah-oh-oh” calls ignite, and the power subsides in a stream of foamy blood.

“Let There Be Dark” is a massive step forward for Tower, a band that already was showing serious electricity before this and has surpassed their previous accomplishments. This is a record and band that surely dines on a lot of classic sounds, but they are so much more than a revisitation of metal’s roots. They’re a dynamic, channeled band that is growing exponentially and finally are hitting the sweet spot between hooky and hammering more than ever before.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.cruzdelsurmusic.com/store/index.php?route=product/category&path=35

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

I was pretty excited this past year to have a chance to grab the reissues of Coalesce’s records, repressed by Relapse and giving those of us whose CD collections are now in basements to finally have them on wax. I didn’t need more than that. I have these great records now, and I can enjoy these scathing collections for the rest of my life. Little did I know there was something brewing, albeit an entirely different entity.

Long-time Coalesce frontman Sean Ingram has bowed away from the music scene the last decade, putting his focus elsewhere, but inside the embers remained. It took working with multi-instrumentalist and producer Josh Barber for the reignition to happen, and result is “Life Is Violence,” the debut from their new project Idle Heirs. Ingram sounds incredible, but he isn’t just shrieking his lungs out. His clean singing shows a different shade of him, and the music the duo creates fall more on the ISIS/Cult of Luna (the latter a direct influence) shine to eight reflective, volcanic, mesmerizing tracks that center on the themes of parenthood from generation to generation. The music packs the same emotional wallop as Ingram’s other work, and it can dig into you and address different parts of your being, filling you with volcanic passion.

“Loose Tooth” has an eerie intro, Ingram’s clean singing oddly cathartic, a far cry from his normal beastly bark. “I hate what I’ve become,” he laments, the pace slowly prodding before things engulf, and yes, the furious cries emerge. The playing crushes with might, gazey melodies influence the storm, and everything ends in a blur. “Rare Bird” has guitars gushing and the vocals flexing, the ambiance feeling cloudy and ashen, and then screams ignite and gut just as the melodies pick up again. Howls bellow before they’re met with more mechanical calls, the playing jarring and chugging into dust. “Jaded Mountain” opens in a synth haze, humidity expanding before bursting, acidic wails wrenching, the playing taking on a tornadic feel. The pressure then ruptures, hammers mauling relentlessly as a noise rings out into the distance. “Lemonade Stands” starts clean and dusty, Ingram’s howls registering and melding with clean singing, the guitars stretching into sun-washed terrain. The pace picks up and takes on a hardcore edge, Ingram cutting with, “With this life, there is hell to pay,” as the power drills once more.

“Dim Shepherd” runs nine minutes and slowly unfurls, creating an atmosphere as the playing buzzes. “I don’t recognize myself,” Ingram laments, that pain washing into heavier ground, leading to howls wrenching, the guitars warping, and a heavy bruising is added to your psyche. Guitars glisten as the energy expands, disappearing into a dream haze. “Pillow Talk” has mauling guitars and a full force vocally, raging through thunderous peaks and valleys. The pace gets more delicate, singing icing wounds, but the brutality isn’t far behind, clawing back and smashing the senses, melting into a synth cloud. “Dead Ringer” runs 9:42, and it pulls back on Ingram’s voice as his singing sounds more direct here, keys blipping as frost gathers on the edges, the pace gradually building to a boil. The howls mix with synth zaps and forestal energy, giving off a Cult of Luna vibe, and from there the power collects. Ingram’s barks stab as the playing continues its ascend, reaching for atmospheric glory and catching it, the drama sprawling harder. A muscular gasp lets fires breathe, and the final stretch punishes, disappearing into misty keys. Closer “Momma” is a gripping end as well as the first song these two completed together, and it digs in deep. Soft acoustics tangle with crashing waves, Ingram aching, “This is how I was made, against my will.” The feel remains mournful and quiet, Ingram singing, “Please don’t look for me, there’s nothing for me,” as the last strains wash out into the sea.

It’s great to have Ingram and his unmistakable voice back in our realms, and Idle Heirs let us see him and his expression in an entirely different manner. His collaboration with Barber on “Life Is Violence” hopefully is one that’ll bear fruit into the future as there is a lot of promise here and adds some new spices to the post-metal concoction. Add to that the examination of parental roles throughout generations, we get a richer, more human experience that surely can strike deep within anyone in the same shoes, no matter which role that might be. 

For more on the band, go here: https://idleheirs.bandcamp.com/album/life-is-violence

To buy the album, go here: https://www.relapse.com/collections/idle-heirs-life-is-violence

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

We live in an increasingly dangerous world, compounded by the fact that we let pesky old fascism back into the goddamn room, and now it’s getting its stink everywhere. Yes, we here in the States are dealing with a nauseating offering of the stuff, but that also has popped up many places worldwide. There’s another fight on our hands, and it’s disgusting this way of thinking, this authoritative rule has been allowed to breathe again.

German black metal force Verheerer are as sickened as anyone to battle this all over again, and on their great third record “Urgewalt” (translates to “primal violence”) lashes back at the forces with evil with devastation and scorn. The band—vocalist BST, guitarist SMN, bassist MYR, drummer KRZ—says the record is dedicated to those who have fought fascist rule through the decades and to those who keep grinding away to this day. It’s sad we even have to have records that are about this subject matter, but here we are. Obviously a record isn’t going to unseat a dictator, but its presence can light the fires in others’ hearts and minds so they refuse to let these monsters win or even live to see another day.    

“Intro” starts in the clutches of battle, war chaos spreading as guitars build and agitate, flowing into the title track that stirs and rips right off the bat. The vocals are a grim howl, a raspy attack that feels personal, while the playing ravages, melodies coating over the chorus. The leads take off as the earth quakes beneath, the playing boils, and the growls punish. “Hail Mary” dominates as the drums strike, the playing lathers, and howls tears into your flesh. “Hearts aflame, death is here!“ BST howls as fluid leads bubble to the surface, goddamn hand claps emerge (it’s not as out of place as you may think), and a melodic flood savages as a warbling dialog melts away. “Grabenwurm” blasts in with crushing drums, fluid riffs, and a channeled attack that compromises flesh. “We never truly live, we never truly dream,” BST laments as the guitars ignite and sweep, engulfed by a snarling end. “Totenvolk” storms in, the vocals flexing, a volcanic pace spreading dangerous amounts of ash. The storm mangles as the attack turns maniacal, the drums destroying as powered bones get sucked into your lungs.

“Lungs” is a drubbing beast, speedy and urgent, soot spread liberally, the guitars generating and enacting destructive forces. The leads heat up to throttling levels, carnage raining down, a vicious pace blasting away. “Stahlgrab” starts with growls scowling, mean and menacing playing drawing blood, the pressure mounting. Guitars hang before overflowing, the guitars tearing through flesh, grimness and speed joining forces and crushing chest cavities. “Arsonist” heats up as the yells belt, the guitars take on lava, and the scarring approach tries to squeeze the life from you. The melodies flood your head, even as the song sharpens the danger, swelling and racing as electricity spikes. The fiery yells are encountered by clean singing, everything combining and sinking into wooziness. Closer “Kriegstreiber” takes you by surprise as you’re greeted by piano notes dripping, static spitting, and then the carnage arriving. The playing gets animalistic and grinding, sweltering before a stampede arrives, the vocals scarring. The temperatures rise as singing swells, the guitars take on a blinding glow, and a gradual fade liquefies with piano chilling, the dialog spreading to the bitter end.

Verheerer’s metallic battle against tyranny and refusal to let our previous victories over oppression die, they practically make “Urgewalt” sound like a true-life battle cry. These nine tracks feel like the lifeblood of rebellion, the electrical jolt we need to stay out there and refuse to let the boots come down on our necks. A record isn’t going to save democracy, but it sure as fuck can be an elixir for our hearts and minds when we need another boost.

For more on the band, go here:

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://meteor-gem.com/

Or here (UK): https://ripcordrecords.limitedrun.com/categories/vendetta-records

Or here: https://vendettarecords.bigcartel.com/

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

I already did a Mega Powers thing a while back about two major forces combining to create something larger than the both of them. But here we are as that still applies. True collaborative records can be eye-opening, ear-wrenching experiences when artists from different bands put their collective minds together and reveal something you might not have expected.

“Alluvion” combines Mizmor’s A.L.N. (guitars, vocals, drums) and Hell’s M.S.W. (guitars, vocals, bass) on a four-track beast that might not deviate terribly from their main projects but lets their talents and forces meld into a collection that allows their metallic personalities to breathe different air. Also, this is not the first two times these guys have worked together as they both were a member of sadly defunct Sorceress and also have shared the stage for separate Hell and Mizmor live performances. Together, the sounds they create won’t be a huge surprise, but they’ll wholly satisfy the urge to examine one’s own psyche and travel freely through the blackness. This record also, sadly, marks one of the last for Gilead Media, a label that has meant a lot to this site and the underground metal world as a whole, so it’s going to be sad (yet understandable) to see them go. 

“Begging to be Lost” opens slowly, flowing ominously and perilously before the gates break, and we’re swimming in sludgy doom and powerful shrieks. Noise sizzles as a battering tempo leaves ample bruising, the riffs entangling as the power simmers, slowing some but remaining potently heavy. Guitars chime as wordless calls hang like a storm cloud, rupturing anew and soaking the land in fury, howls and roars buckling, guitars lathering and pulling you with force toward the sky. “Vision I” opens in guitar steam and foggy visions, navigating through immersive drone, halting and letting the atmosphere breathe. Plucked guitars give off the sensation of solitude, while lonesome melodies flows, disappearing into mysterious openings.

“Pandemonium’s Throat” slowly emerges like an apparition from the mist, doom drubbing as a sooty balance smears its blackness. Shrieks belt as howls burn, strangling as guitars flow generously, blistering as the fury multiplies, screams battering as you’re dragged over craggy rocks. A sense of coldness sends chills as the cloud coverage thickens, clean playing melting and creating its own stream. “Vision II” closes the album, drone roiling as guitars chug amid ghostly cries, minimalist sounds merging with the oncoming pressure burst. The playing is slow and burly as guitars entrance with repetition, the drone returns and drives, and strange sounds encircle and consume all remaining energies.

Having the two creative minds behind Hell and Mizmor working as one again is as immersive and intoxicating as one might expect when taking on “Alluvion.” The heaviness is there both sonically and psychologically, and this collaborative piece is one that could push the right cathartic buttons and we navigate a world in hell (um, the bad version). The push and pull, the light and dark may force you to encounter the stress that’s squeezing your brain, but the end is a cathartic release, where you rediscover the tools inside you to continue living in defiance of madness.

For more on Hell, go here: https://loweryourhead.bandcamp.com/music

For more on Mizmor, go here: https://mizmor.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/collections/gilead-media-releases

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

Death metal that tends to stick with me is the type that burrows into my brain and tries to alter me psychologically. It’s always fun to be thrashed and devastated sonically with the most wicked of the metallic arts. I’m always going to be into that. But having your mind warped along the way? That’s the stuff that transforms me and never lets go.

“Deific Mourning” is the latest from Decrepisy, a band that might give off some scents of Vastum’s psycho-sexual trauma, and that’s for good reason. Guitarist/bassist Kyle House used to play with that band, and for this record, he recruited Vastum frontman Dan Butler, whose voice and histrionics are unmistakable, as well as Leila Abdul-Rauf on synth and vocals. But that doesn’t mean it’s a carbon copy or anything of the sort. It’s just a similar ambiance that the band—rounded out by lead guitarist Jonny FOD Quintana, drummer Charles Koryn, and synth/noisescape artist Gabriel Lageson—conjures here. The power and creativity are their own as they ply you with mentally stirring, sometimes cosmic death that encircles and refuses to let go. It’s a big step up from debut “Emetic Communion,” itself a strong record, and it should be a huge jumping-off point for them to accumulate more acolytes. It also should be noted House suffered from a litany of physical ailments that prevented him from playing for long stretches of time, so this record even existing is a testament to his resilience.

“Ceremony of Unbelief” opens amid smearing guitars and a crunching pace, the heaviness battling with the strange psychosis abound. The playing actually has a demented feel, mashing as growls corrode, the leads explode, and detached speaking makes chills roll down your spine. The title track is frosty as the guitars chug, bizarre riffs burn your veins, and things bubble and add thickness. The playing shimmers and melts, the growls spread ash, and the playing starts thrashing harder, the leads burst with morbid colors, and a growl/speak mix sends this to the ground. “Dysautonomic Terror” has voices warbling as the guitars glide into sludge, charred brutality washing against borders, pummeling with full force. Ghostly calls bathe in the void of light, guitars mesmerize, and calculated driving sends everything to its breaking point.

“Spiritual Decay 1/4 Dead” has guitars angling as disarming speaking feels ghoulish, growls chewing into nerves, the thrashing piling onto the slab. The pace is slower but ungodly heavy, the guitars encircle and dizzy, and a brain fog takes you over mentally. “Severed Ephemerality” scrambles to life, pulverizing with their ferocity, growls choking you to the floor. Guitars go off and slam the gas pedal, crushing and suffocating, the vocals maiming with no mercy. “Corpseless” brings deranged speaking again, the grim, chilling tidings working their way into your brain. Guitars drip as psychosis liquifies, bruising as the growls decay, the spoken verses swirling in your mind, the steam finally fading. Closer “Afterhours,” a cover of the Sisters of Mercy song, emerges from the core of the earth, chugging as the voices warp, repetition driving madly, the humidity thickening in a hurry. The playing keeps thrusting, the blade boring into the earth, guitars hanging in the air and threatening, the terror moving into the darkness. Static fries as death drives deeper, slipping out into a medicine dream.

“Deific Mourning” is grim and chilling, a brutal form of aggression that delves into the darkest, most hopeless regions of existence. Decrepisy hammer with a morbid sense of violence that easily digs into your head and scratches in its messages forever. The fact the music was created as the grips of actual physical and mental anguish took their toll adds another level of misery that wrecks your soul forever.

For more on the band, go here: https://decrepisy.bandcamp.com/album/deific-mourning

To buy the album, go here: https://carbonizedrecords.merchtable.com/search?q=decrepisy%2F

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

There are a lot of reasons to be stressed the fuck out with the state of the world right now, and one of those aspects is the lack of control we have over the process. We’re watching inhumane decisions and unspeakable methods of cruelty being spread all over, and while it’s hard to try to stay positive with that lack of power permeating, one has to balance that over the dark.

Miami noise makers Bleeth return with “Marionette,” an aptly titled record in this era where it feels like so many of our leaders are puppets for more nefarious forces. Plus, there’s that lack of control and the battle internally with our light and dark sides that make navigating these shark-infested waters so frustrating. The band—vocalist/guitarist Lauren Palma, bassist/vocalist Ryan Rivas, drummer Juan Londoño—pours doom, grunge, noise, and plenty other heavy elements into this 10-track driver that batters you sonically but also keeps you engaged mentally so that you can absorb this energy and use it to keep yourself in the game in a meaningful way. It’s heavier and more urgent than their previous work, which will make your neck snap back at times. Plus, it’s infectious as fuck and a great candidate for repeat listens.

“False Memory” opens in doomy, grungy waters, riffs whipping as Rivas howls, “Go ahead and break it!” Drums blast as the guitars scuff, letting everything burn into oblivion. “Echoes of Doubt” has guitars flooding, Palma taking over vocals as she calls, “I’m scared of regret, I’m scared to be alone.” The playing continues to punch, self-doubt continuing to swirl as Palma wounders, “Am I making a mistake? Is it going to be bad?” before a battering end. “Medusa” has guitars tricking and smearing, your head spinning along with it, swimming in a pool of madness. Noise continues to collect, pushing your buttons as melodies melt in the sun. “Devils Advocate” is a puncher, feeling a little like Helmet, the playing wrestling you down as Rivas wails, “You take! You take! You take!” The playing drubs and hovers, and then the intensity pulls back a bit, the singing scathing as bluesy scraping settles, dripping away. “Break Free” bludgeons, Palma and Rivas combining voices, reminding a lot of Kylesa’s glory days. “I don’t get it, but I want it,” Palma heaves as burly bashing adds bruising, surging to a mangling end.

“Placebo” arrives on fire, Rivas’ barks landing hard, guitars blasting chrome as the humidity increases. Steely wails pierce as echoes digest the electricity, the noise slowly dissolving. “Pro Choice” is a force, Palma in total command vocally. There is a palpable anger and frustration woven in, the carnage rising as the battering continues. “This is all a show,” Palma howls, igniting newfound savagery and chaos that spits nails. “Snake Eyes” is immersive and cool, Palma’s voice leaving brush burns, the pace turning more toward volatile punk. “What kind of future are we building for the little ones born today?”  she calls, hammering home a sobering point dressed in acid. “Reflections” is an instrumental piece that swims in noise and cooling weather systems, the haze stinging as the bass strikes, culling feedback and cosmic mystery. Closer “Monarchs” arrives with guitar crunch and a sense of restraint as Palma’s voice floats, the guitars adding more fuzz as the rhythm stomps. Things get sludgier as the vocals pierce visions, the drums rumble, and everything blurs out forever.

“Marionette” arrives at a period of great upheaval that’s been going on for some time but really seems to be boiling over now. Bleeth’s power navigates the tension, anxiety, and manipulation we’re experiencing at ridiculous levels but always shines a light on more positive aspects of taking back some control and living in whatever form of comfort one can find. This is a battering, heartfelt, electric experience, and Bleeth are answering the bell with might that’s their own.

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

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

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

We live in a lot of darkness right now. It’s been thickening and lowering the past few years, but right now, we’re smack in the middle, with very few lights to shine a way out. “Leaders” cling to this purposely misleading religious oath wrought with fraud and evil, and we are expected to live inside it, waiting for some false salvation.

Savage Master don’t outwardly tackle this on their great new record “Dark & Dangerous,” but they sure do lay a path to something sinister and dark that isn’t oppressive and instead can feel outwardly freeing. On this, their fifth record, the band—vocalist Stacey Savage, guitarists Adam Neal, Larry Myers, and Julian Fried, drummer John Littlejohn—reigns supreme with their occult-based classic metal. Will it incinerate an oligarchy? No, not likely. But it can fill you with a different type of dark energy that strives for good, defies the system, and helps one find power and strength within themselves. This also happens to be their most powerful and sticky record yet, one with killer hooks, guitars that fill the senses with glory, and Savage’s vocals that spark fires and emotion you’ll need for battle.

“Three Red Candles” opens the record and is a classic metal instrumental, everything getting warmed up and heading toward “Warriors Call,” as strong a first full song as you’ll find in the band’s catalog. Savage’s singing dominates, as it should, carrying the way over fierce, yet glorious playing, the guitar work filling your veins with energy. The soloing ushers in a great throwback feel, and everything jolts. coming to a rousing end. “Black Rider” brings dashing guitars and chugging fury, riffs lathering as the vocals increase your pulse. The leads take over and explore with power, hammering along with Savage’s commanding voice. “The Edge of Evil” opens with guitar heat and synth glow, Savage flexing over the alluring chorus, with gang shouts to add to the muscle. In fact, she pushes her voice even higher in spots, later calling, “I’m on the edge,” as murky melodies dominate. “Devil’s Child” brings charging guitars, a metallic attack, and Savage wailing, “No sympathy, no love for me.” The electric pace rattles, the guitars turn into lasers through the darkness, penetrating urgency, bringing the track to a big finish. “Screams From the Cellar” is steamy, with a pace that gets your adrenaline going, guitars rushing and taking your breath with them. Some atmospheric gusts add a different feel, and the heavy chorus jars before only Savage’s voice warps in echo. 

“Never Ending Fire” has the bass driving, the motors charging, and a tasty classic metal atmosphere, Savage defiantly calling, “Now I’m going to break my chains, learn to love again.” The positivity leads to guitars swallowing you whole, blasting through your chest and leaving you heaving. “Devil Rock” is pretty to the point, a strange open leading to a catchy attack, trudging as the synth bathes you in weird light, Savage howling, “Dirty looks and holy books don’t mean much to me.” The chorus is simple and driving, an easy live callback, with the final promise of, “I’m going to steal your soul,” sending chills. “I Never Wanna Fall in Love” kind of counters “Never Ending Fire” thematically as here, Savage burns love to the ground. This is total ’80s thunder, and I love it, storming its way through group vocals, lathering guitars, and Savage insisting, “I know I’m better on my own,” as everything crashes down. “When the Twilight Meets the Dawn” starts clean before rampaging, thrashing as hard as anything else on this record, the singing ruling as the power grows. Hammering intensity makes everything feel even more urgent as the soloing boils, bringing everything to a snarling end. Closer “Cold Hearted Death” starts as a mystical ballad, Savage’s vocals coming softer, the keys enveloping with murk. “Won’t let me go free,” Savage calls as the chorus swelters, and emotion floods. The guitars then blaze, packing a heartfelt punch, as everything swims through fire, melting over for an exciting conclusion.

Savage Master have been on the cusp of breaking out for a while now, and “Dark & Dangerous” just might be what helps them get there. These songs are massive, driven, and catchy as fuck, pouring classic heavy metal thunder, thorns, and fantasy into one hulking package. This is Savage Master’s most formidable album, and hopefully everyone else catches up with their majesty. 

For more on the band, go here: https://staceysavagemaster.bandcamp.com/album/dark-dangerous

To buy the album, go here: https://www.shadowkingdomrecords.com/pre-orders.asp

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

We could use a mental break, right? As I type this, which is well before you read it, it’s just shit wall to wall, fascism spreading its poisonous wings as half the country is in fucking denial? How do you pull yourself out of that mentally? How does one manage to feel good again in the midst of a nightmare?

Well, distractions are nice, and putting on a heavy metal record that reminds you about your heart and fight could be the perfect antidote, at least for a while. That’s where Pittsburgh trad metal warriors Lady Beast come in, and they arrive just in time with their fifth record “The Inner Alchemist.” This band—vocalist Deborah Levine, guitarists Andy Ramage and Chris Tritschler, bassist Amy Bianco, drummer Adam Ramage—always answers the bell when we need a jolt of the pure stuff, and this nine-track offering keeps intact their trademark sound but also scuffs it up a bit, letting you feel the chrome blast right against your head. It’s a heavier, more channeled Lady Beast that breathes fresh air into their machine and makes it more muscular. 

“The Oracles Omen” rips out of the gates, Levine’s singing in full command as always, the playing driving colorfully. The soloing goes off as the power consumes, the chorus blazing back, everything ending in a sinister tone. “Through the Eyes of War” has a vintage Maiden feel at the start, I’m talking pre-Dickinson, and the singing snarls, violent imagery spilling over and filling the shadows. The soloing smoke as the pace trudges, dual leads cutting through the void and disappearing into madness. The title track is a real standout, jolting as the guitars surge, Levine shining over a simple chorus that’s expertly sung and full of energy. The leads glisten as the push picks up the pace, bleeding into a classic-style run that keeps your heart racing. “Starborn” starts slower and shimmers, channeling Rainbow, but it isn’t long until the guitars melt, and the beast tears through your chest, smoking like a chimney. “From the stars we’re born, and to the stars we return,” Levine belts, the pace hitting harder, lathering with a vintage stomp that gallops to an abrupt end.

“Crones Crossroads” charges, coming in faster and meaner, the singing even taking on a more ferocious edge. The chorus blisters as the guitars steer toward menace, thrashing as wild cackles reverberate, delirious emotion making your blood rush. “Feed Your Fire” crushes with full NWOBHM authority, the riffs wrestling you down and bending your arms behind your back. Speedy and propulsive, the path is beaten bloody by a rollicking bassline, the chorus whipping you again, and your breath suddenly increasing. “Witch Light” should be a beer name. Instead, it’s an urgent basher, twin guitars ruling, rocky melodies carrying the way. The leads glisten and increase the heat, encircling you in an instrumental metal storm that sizzles with lightning. “The Wild Hunt” pushes the gas pedal but also contains a bit more grit, the pace chewing at bone and muscle, the swinging sweltering. Dual leads flood as glorious spirits rise and carry you into a commanding finish. Closer “Off With Her Head” is a barnstormer, the vocals flexing, a fast, blunt chorus digging into your nervous system. Levine practically spits her words on the verses, guitars ignite and bubble over, and a fiery vengeance pushes everything else to the limit.

Lady Beast are a force, pulling from the roots that generated heavy metal and always packing their music with passion and power that you can’t help but feel in every pore. “The Inner Alchemist” follows the same path the band has been on, but it’s noted there’s an extra sharp cut on their blades, and they sound as explosive as ever, more like how their live shows feel. This is music we need right now when the darkness is at its thickest, and we need something to keep us headed toward the light, where forces of justice can thrive once again, vanquishing the cancer of tyranny.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://dyingvictims.com/index.php

For more on the label, go here: https://dying-victims.de/