In heavy music, extreme metal, whatever you want to call the thing, it’s getting increasingly more difficult to be entirely original. Everything’s been done, often to death, and it’s really tough to surprise someone with something that’s never been heard before. That’s because everything’s been heard before. So for a new band trying to make a mark in a section flooded with sub-genres and participants, what’s the solution? How about just being good at what you do?

Chicago’s Beak, a new quartet made up of some members of post-rock outfit The Timeout Drawer, won’t dazzle you with new bells and whistles. Their sound is similar to what bands such as ISIS, Neurosis, Pelican (musically, of course), and the early era of screamo bands (before that genre turned to Hot Topic shit) have done for years. They have some post-metal dreaming, muddy doom, some prog, some death, and what have you. Plenty of other bands have tried this same formula, so much so that enduring new groups with these same ideas is growing tiresome. But Beak are different because they sound great and have a very real passion you practically can reach out and touch. They’re emotionally rewarding to hear, and you can tell they mean it. I’ve listened to their debut “Eyrie” plenty of times already and have yet to grow tired of it at all. That’s saying something considering how much stuff I sift through in order to find suitable music for this site.

Also, from the band’s bio, it sounds like this gathering also was built on philosophical togetherness. They claim their creation process involved, “No meat. No cars. No television. Group cooking and eating. Days without electricity.” And so on and so on. It sounds like setting up a communal setting and making sure everyone was in tune with the message was just as important as creating something heavy as hell. Perhaps that is a primary reason why these songs sound so tight, interlaced, and spiritual (not in a religious sense). It wasn’t just four guys in a room trying to make noise and out-heavy everyone else.

Beak is comprised of vocalist/guitarist John Slusher, guitarist Andy Bosnak, bassist/vocalist Jason Goldberg, and drummer Chris Eichenseer, and their first recording is conceptual in nature, focusing on decaying societies and empires, ruin, and time moving forward as the past crumbles. You certainly can hear all of that in their volcanic compositions, and producer Neil Strauch (who has worked with decidedly non-metal, yet still quite challenging acts such as Sage Francis and Bonnie Prince Billy) really captured the tension and tumult perfectly. The sound often comes off like it’s holding so much force, it’s ready to snap, and that gives the album a dangerous, quaking feel like the earth’s crust is going to burst. That’s a nice touch.

“Angry Mother of Bones” opens the door and completely detonates upon impact, with very throaty vocals from Slusher, some spacey keys, and a melody line that, at times, sounds like Metallica’s “To Live Is to Die.” “Hands Collide” spits static and has more of a hardcore approach, with punchiness and eventually some sci-fi atmospherics. “Men at Arms” takes a tumble through some Western terrain, eventually melting into lava and triggering some massive explosiveness. “Billions of Eyes” sets into a muddy groove, and Slusher and Goldberg go back and forth trading diatribes. Both forces push each other into corners, and it makes the thing that much more combative when the other guy fights his way out. Closer “The Weight and Time” is chugging and mangled, furious and fighting, leaving you a gasping mess. It also leaves you wanting more, but we must wait for that. And who knows what kind of duress these guys will make themselves endure before they get there?

I’m curious to hear how Beak evolve over the years and if they can maintain the intensity of “Eyrie.” They show a lot of promise, and as noted, they don’t get bogged down by sub-genre trappings. They rise above them and make these familiar strains work in their favor. This first salvo certainly rips a hole in your defenses, and if they keep this up, they could be a post-metal go-to band in no time.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.beakmusic.com/

To buy the album, go here: http://www.amazon.com/Eyrie/dp/B007N2SXZ2/ref=sr_1_12?s=music&ie=UTF8&qid=1332861586&sr=1-12

For more on the label, go here:http://www.someoddpilotrecords.com/

When someone comes up with a unique idea, it is expected that people will catch on and copy that idea to death. That results in each copy being less and less special and typically waters down the concept. Then you end up resenting those who were responsible for said movement for spawning the garbage that followed. Sorry, Pearl Jam. You didn’t mean to give way to Creed. Same to you Anthrax/Public Enemy. It was a cool idea, and then we got nu-metal, the worst era in metal history.

So now that we’re neck deep in this Djent thing, and wow, does it suck. See, the style is one of those things that if you practice the palm mute deal enough, you can make the noises happen at home. But that doesn’t mean you’re making interesting or good music. So really, don’t blame Meshuggah for all of this shit, because surely they didn’t intend for this thing to devolve into the hundreds of bands that are marring the sound they had a giant hand in crafting. Truth is, for all the imitators out there, no one does it better than Meshuggah. I’d say that, while that’s an opinion, it’s pretty close to a fact.

The Swedes have been making mind-bending, head-titling metal for more than two decades now, debuting with 1991’s “Contradictions Collapse” and making standard-bearer albums such as heavily influential “Destroy Erase Improve,” “Chaosphere” and “Catch 33,” an album so complicated the fellows were hard-pressed to recreate the songs live. Yeah. They definitely have a signature sound, and you always know it’s Meshuggah when you hear them. That includes lead barker Jens Kidman, the lover of wacky faces whose stream-of-consciousness delivery always seems loose yet forceful. No matter what Meshuggah do from record to record, they always maintain that identity even if some of the backgrounds are slightly different.

Same goes for the band’s new, seventh record “Koloss,” the follow-up to 2008’s “obZen” and another new step for the group. See, they keep wrinkling your brain like you’d expect, but for the first time ever, they pull back on the madness and make things a little more streamlined. Don’t get me wrong, they didn’t exactly do a “Black Album” thing like Metallica did. They haven’t lost their balls, their intensity or their focus, and trust me, this isn’t a pop album or something. A listener new to the machine still will be perplexed and have to take some time to figure out what’s going on. For those who have been along for their journey, you’ll find the easiest Meshuggah record to digest and figure out ever. That’s certainly not a bad thing, and if anything, it proves how adaptable they are.

The record opens with “I Am Colossus,” a hammering first salvo that rips right into you, with Kidman howling, “I decide your fate!” as guitarists Fredrik Thordendal and Marten Hagstrom pull together riffs that are equally muddy and spacey. “The Demon’s Name” has a tech death aura, with pulsating drumming from Tomas Haake, and some of the out-there guitar soloing gives the song a bit of a sci-fi bend. “Behind the Sun” lets in some jazz influences, and I swear I hear horns in the background. Maybe that’s just an audio illusion. “Swarm” opens like one, with a frantic pace, a punishing assault, and some cartoon-like string histrionics that remind you the guys can still boil your senses when the need arises. “Demiurge” has some weird things going on beneath, with oddball noises and some gothic melodies, but it also fully levels you when you least expect it. Closer “The Last Vigil” is a floating, heady instrumental that’s eerie and calming at points. It’s a nice breather as the record draws to its conclusion. The only song that doesn’t really do it for me is “Marrow,” a groove-heavy cut that goes a little too close to nu-metal territory. But that’s one minor chink in otherwise sturdy armor.

Meshuggah easily could have floated on Djent’s choppy waves and simply capitalized on the movement they set into motion. But they don’t do things that way. They pushed themselves by dialing things back. They got back to basics, though their basics are light years ahead of everyone else’s. “Koloss” is a super-solid collection that’s as fun to hear as anything they’ve put out since the close of last century. But that doesn’t mean you should get comfortable with this sound. They’ll likely blow the whole thing up next time and do something completely different. But you’ll still know it’s Meshuggah.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.meshuggah.net/

To buy the album, go here: http://store.nuclearblastusa.com/Search/meshuggah

For more on the label, go here: http://www.nuclearblastusa.com/en/

Portal ... Cynic ... whatever

We all waited long enough for prog-death pioneers Cynic to follow up their epic, highly influential 1993 debut “Focus.” The band disintegrated before they had a chance to do a proper sequel, and it seemed that they would be lost to the sands of time.

And then they came back. About 12 years after the band disintegrated in 1994, they announced some reunion shows and even played new bits live during their 2006-07 road jaunt, pieces that eventually would become important building blocks of their stunning 2008 comeback album “Traced in Air.” That album found the band drifting further away from their death metal roots and adopting more spacey, prog-rock tendencies. From that point, the band just kept giving, and giving, and giving. A 2010 EP “Re-Traced,” comprised of reconfigured, musically transformed versions of some “Traced” cuts, landed in our laps, and a year later, another EP of new music called “Carbon Based Anatomy” dropped. Both efforts offered a glimpse into where Cynic would evolve next and are worthy additions to your collections.

Now comes a pretty big one. See, once Cynic fell by the wayside, some of its members, namely singer/guitarist Paul Masvidal, drummer Sean Reinert and guitarist Jason Gobel, teamed up with bassist Chris Kringel and vocalist Aruna Abrams to form a new band called Portal. Uh, not to be confused with the death metal terrorists from Down Under. They recorded some material together, but the project never really got off the ground. Yet the work they did set in motion where Portal would go musically once they reformed. And it got Cynic fans all worked up because they wanted to get their hands on the music, which wasn’t exactly widely distributed.

So here it is, “The Portal Tapes,” an album misleadingly released under the Cynic moniker even though it technically isn’t a Cynic album. Understand? Season of Mist has a limited release of the collection ready to go, with 5,000 committed to CD and just 1,000 to vinyl. Those who haven’t heard this collection to this point might be surprised just how different the music sounds from what the Cynic members had done before this, and it might even shock some that what they’ll get here is so … soft. In fact, the band members made associations with Dead Can Dance and My Bloody Valentine, though I don’t hear a hell of a lot in the latter. It’s more like modern Cynic with all the barbs removed. You can hear Dream Theater, Steely Dan and Porcupine Tree at moments as well.

I don’t mind softer music, and although this is a site dedicated to metal, I listen to a lot of other stuff, including as lot of folk and old country. So I’m not afraid if something doesn’t rock out. But I can’t really get into a lot of what’s on here, and I love Dead Can Dance and everything Cynic has ever done. The music is really dated, which isn’t surprising or a criticism, and hearing it now, it’s just a little hard for me to get into with enthusiasm. Abrams has a lovely, breathy voice, and had this band made it into circulation at the time it was recorded, she might have become a household name. The music is prog-dork country in a lot of spots, damn near adult contemporary in others. Again, not criticizing, but it’s not a sound that does a whole lot for me. Maybe you’ll feel differently.

There’s a lot of soupy, spacey stuff on here and, as noted, it’s pretty gentle. That’s fine, really, because things that should be cosmic – “Endless Endeavors”; “Cosmos,” especially with the line, “I want to be closer to higher beings”; “Circle” – are the best songs on this collection. “Karma’s Plight” is interesting and has some New Wave flourishes, and Masvidal actually takes lead vocals on that one; and “Costumed in Grace” is proggy and docile, which works pretty well. The rest I can’t embrace. “Crawl Alone” sounds like a late-era Sting song as it seems to try to be a pop hit breakout; “Mirror Child” is R&B-flavored, but not really in an engaging way; “Road to You” would be passable if it weren’t for the clunky lyrics; and closer “Not the Same” is adult-contempo land and never really goes anywhere exciting.

Again, this is just how I feel about this thing. I’m sure other people will be more open to what these artists do on this album. Clearly everyone here is a commendable player, but I don’t think these songs quite measure up to the potential. I’ll probably end up parting with cash for this simply because I’m a Cynic completest, but I don’t see it being played very often at all. When it comes to anything called Portal, I’ll take the band fronted by the guy wearing the cuckoo clock.

For more on Cynic, go here: http://www.cyniconline.com/

For more on their Portal years, go here: http://www.cynicalsphere.com/portal.html

To buy the album, go here: http://e-shop.season-of-mist.com/en/items/cynic/the-portal-tapes/cd-digipack/30341

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

No matter how old you are, no matter what comprises your metal record collection, chances are you’re familiar with the term New Wave of British Heavy Metal. By the way, I don’t care if it’s proper or not, but I hate when people pronounce the NWOBHM acronym.  Ne-wob-em. Punch me in the face.

There are so many noteworthy bands form that movement that originated in the ’70s, rose to greater heights in the ’80s, and influenced a ton of bands going forward from Metallica all the way to Christian Mistress. Some of the heavy hitters from that era include Iron Maiden, Def Leppard, Judas Priest, Saxon, Diamond Head, Raven, Tygers of Pan Tang, and Sweet Savage. Now, not all of these bands are household names, but chances are if you have dozens, hundreds, or thousands of metal albums taking up space in your home, you have something influenced by at least one of these groups. The guitar work was scintillating, often driven home by twin-guitar assaults, the vocals often strong and majestic, drawing comparisons to the power metal genre, and the songwriting was rock solid. It was, arguably, the greatest and most influential movements in heavy metal history.

Another major player at that time was Angel Witch, a London-based band that originally formed under the name Lucifer before settling on something a little more unique. Their self-titled 1980 album (released on Bronze Records) opened a lot of eyes and seemed to indicate they would be a major force for years to come, and that platter has achieved classic status and was inducted in Decibel’s Hall of Fame. In fact, just a couple years ago, a deluxe edition of that seminal record was released and is an absolute must-have for any NWOBHM enthusiasts. It’s like a textbook. It should be required listening.

But instead of becoming a household name, Angel Witch fell apart. The band’s lineup dissolved soon after their debut was released, and Kevin Heybourne was the only member who would have any steady role in the group going forward. The band put out a few records that didn’t really go anywhere and certainly couldn’t match the intensity and specialness of their first album, and eventually, Angel Witch appeared to fade into history. But interest kicked back up when the song “Angel Witch” was featured on the “Brutal Legend” videogame, their debut was reissued, and eventually Heybourne assembled a new version of the band for another go-round in the studio. But would it be worth the effort, or would Angel Witch sully their legend with an ill-conceived, late-career bomb?

Turns out Heybourne and his new troops – Will Palmer on bass, Andrew Prestidge on drums, and some guitarist named Bill Steer who played in a little-known group called Carcass – had some fire in their bellies. The music on “As Above, So Below” is churning and galloping, giving listeners a taste at how the true soldiers of the NWOBHM sound do things. The tracks totally rip and have a magic that sounds pulled right from their original era. In fact, the eight cuts on this album are heavier and more aggressive than what they did in their heyday, and this is by no means a washed-up concept trying to squeeze the last drops of life from their bodies. These guys are revived and ready to roll.

Actually, if there’s a drawback to “As Above, So Below,” it’s Heybourne’s voice. It’s only OK. It doesn’t have a lot of emotional variety, and often he sounds flat. He doesn’t embarrass himself by any means, and sometimes, such as on killer doom ballad “The Horla,” he’s in command. But the singing does take a little bit of effectiveness from these songs, but it’s not like someone else singing was – nor should have been – an option. We open with “Dead Sea Scrolls,” a true example of NWOBHM glory that is punchy and fiery. “Into the Dark” decries destruction that goes on around us (a little clumsily, though), and it has more of a traditional rock groove. “Witching Hour” kicks up dust and battles “The Horla” valiantly for distinction as the album’s best cut. The song has hooks galore and sharp lead guitar lines, revealing the power this band possesses. “Guillotine” has a Thin Lizzy thunder but a chorus that sucks some of the air out of things; and closer “Brainwashed” makes like an Iron Maiden storm across the plains with swords raised and horses screaming. The chorus is really predictable, so that’s a letdown, but it recovers OK.

It’s certainly not an album that contends with their debut (unless you’re judging by sheer heaviness and massiveness), but it’s a hell of a lot better than I expected. I’m pleasantly surprised by “As Above, So Below,” and it’s cool to finally have some new music from this legendary name (or, you know, Heybourne). I don’t know that I want the band to make any more albums beyond this one, but that’s not up to me (and if they served up more, I’d definitely check it out). For now, I’ll enjoy this late-career blast from Angel Witch and be satisfied they finally came up with a proper follow-up to their immortal first document.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.facebook.com/angelwitchofficial?sk=info

To buy the album, go here: http://www.indiemerchstore.com/item/13684/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.riseaboverecords.com/

And here: http://www.metalblade.com/english/content.php

At the start of each year, there always are bands that I’m fairly certain will have new music during the upcoming year, and I sort of start getting excited about it. Along with that also comes some nervousness that when I finally get said album that it won’t live up to my expectations.

I have a few this year that are sitting on my list. I’m really excited about the new Ash Borer, Anhedonist, Aldebaran, Nachtmystium, and Angel Witch, and album we’ll visit really soon. I’m also anticipating new stuff from Royal Thunder, Paradise Lost, St. Vitus, Horseback, and the Mutilation Rites full-length. But one record that was really high on my list at the start of the year – we’re talking top 5 – is a new opus from Worm Ouroboros, whose self-titled 2010 debut remains an indescribable gem of magic and mirth that still haunts me to this day. As soon as I heard their sophomore effort “Come the Thaw”  was nearing completion and then was given a release date, my enthusiasm started to bubble over.

So with that much build up in my head, would this album meet my expectations? Holy shit, yes. It blew away everything I expected from this trio – guitarist/vocalist Jessica Way (Barren Harvest, World Eater), bassist/vocalist Lorraine Rath (Amber Asylum, the Gault), and new drummer and dark horse presidential candidate Aesop Dekker (Agalloch, Ludicra) – and made me realize I can’t really anticipate what this band will do. Both of their records are totally different from each other, even though you know by ear it’s Worm Ouroboros on each album, but the moods and the approaches are so separate. And that’s a great thing because as much as I love their debut, I was hoping “Come the Thaw” would be its own animal, and it is.

There may not be a sadder, moodier, more heart-provoking album  in any genre this year, and while it’s a stretch to call what Worm Ouroboros does as true metal (think more neo-folk, doom rock), sentimentally and emotionally, it’s as heavy as the most molten and heathen of black metal blasts. I always take notes on an album the final time I listen before writing my thoughts on it, and I recorded copious observations about “Come the Thaw” on a cool, foggy, rainy morning, when I was able to look out on the city and imagine it being a town encapsulated by doom and sorrow. In many ways it is, but the music just pounded home how real our despair and hopelessness can be sometimes, and it’s often a struggle to reach out for solace, an answer, or an understanding hand. I’m not even sure those thoughts should be sparked by this album, but it’s what went on with me as a result.

These songs easily could be misconstrued by someone not really paying attention. I could imagine someone thinking these pieces are so pretty and woodsy, and they are, but not in the way most people would comprehend. There is darkness and tragedy lurking beneath these poetic threads, and while they may not be the loudest songs you’ll hear this year, and no one will think them brutal, there is blood, and it’s all over the place. “How will you ever find me now?” is a desperate question that stands out on opener “Ruined Ground,” as the spacious, chilly song crawls its way into a dark forest, finding a grave beneath the snow. That description may sound over the top; I think it may not be expressive enough. “Further Out” is gusty and breathy, with positively gorgeous vocals and intricate, fluttering melodies that’ll melt the ice away. “Release Your Days” is noteworthy for how the guitar and bass speak to each other, almost as if Way and Rath are taking turns telling their story with their instruments. The vocals are there to affirm it all. “When We Are Gold” is the most interesting song on the album, with a psychedelic, trippy backdrop that helps stretch your mind before they allow themselves to push the volume and tease at doom metal. “Withered” is a spiritual guide, with some of Rath’s finest bass work and guitar lines that are a bit harsher; and closer “Penumbra” sneaks up on you, crawling in like a gentle lamb but eventually grabbing you and claiming you with its lion teeth.

It’s really difficult to explain Worm Ouroboros to someone accurately. Yeah, you can cite bands such as Dead Can Dance, Cocteau Twins, Kate Bush, Subrosa, Chelsea Wolfe, and Earth as like-minded contemporaries, but like Worm Ouroboros, those are artists that have to be felt and experienced to be understood. “Come the Thaw” is a record that can give you a totally different experience each time you hear it based simply on what kind of mood you’re in. But no matter what’s on your mind, this band will take you down a dark path, make you encounter ugliness, and do it in such disarming ways. Worm Ouroboros infect me every time, and I hope their pathogens never subside.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Worm-Ouroboros/250016544916?sk=info

To buy the album, go here: http://www.profoundlorerecords.com//index.php?option=com_ezcatalog&task=detail&id=871&Itemid=99999999

For more on the label, go here: http://www.profoundlorerecords.com/

Look, I love metal that makes me think and dream and wonder. Obviously I do since I talk about that stuff all the time. But now and again, I’d like to hear something that makes me want to slam a hammer through a plate glass window.

Yeah, OK, that’s a little easy. After all, we are talking about “Sentenced to Life,” the crushing new album by Black Breath, and on the cover is someone … slamming a hammer through a plate glass window. But whatever. When you hear this shit, that’s what it’ll make you want to do too, and the cover is even more awesome because it looks like an early ’80s thrash metal album. It’s such a simplistic idea, but it’s well executed and looks awesome. It’s my favorite cover art so far in this young year, and first time I saw it I decided if they made a T-shirt depicting the cover, I would buy it immediately. It’s currently hanging in my basement on the clothesline. Yes, I did hear the music on the new album before making such a purchase. I’m no blind rubber-stamper.

Black Breath have been making crusty, brutal, black metal-flavored, D-beat powered hardcore for the last six years now, and they’ve demolished everything in front of them on their debut EP “Razor to Oblivion” and their first full-length, 2010’s bad-ass “Heavy Breathing.” They were one of the first signings in Southern Lord’s recent shift toward signing more hardcore, Entombed/Slayer-worshipping bands, and so far, none of the other like-minded groups on the label have been able to stop this Seattle machine. A few have come close (Seven Sisters of Sleep, Nails), but these guys remain the nastiest of them all, and “Sentenced to Life” (a Kurt Ballou, Godcity production, thank you) is another masher that keeps these guys a step ahead of the pack.

The quartet – vocalist Neil McAdams, guitarists Eric Wallace and Zack Muljat, bassist Elijah Nelson, and drummer Jamie Byrum – sets hell and carnage into motion the second you press play on this 10-track, 33-minute killer. It is a relentless display, and while there isn’t anything on here that wonderfully perplexes you kind like “Unholy Virgin,” the package itself is stronger and more menacing than anything they’ve done before. It blasts by in the blink of an eye, and the band sounds tighter than ever. This stuff’s going to crush faces live.

We open with “Feast of the Damned,” a fast, violent cut that features McAdams howling, “Come to me my children, as a jackal to the lamb.” That means your blood is going to be digested. From there, we spill right into the obliterating title cut, with an accusatory chorus of, “Terrified of living, too scared to die”; “Forced Into Possession,” a short blast of volcanic madness; “Home of the Grave,” a sludgy, muddy  bludgeoning with some awesome lead guitar work; “Endless Corpse,” a cut that starts eerily enough before blowing open into a display of classic death metal prowess; “Of Flesh,” a stunning assault that’s both cold and calculating; “The Flame,” a crunchy, D-beat storm that stomps on your knuckles; and “Obey,” a doom-flavored, dual-guitar led finisher that caps things off nicely.

Black Breath have been climbing steadily since their first demo in 2006, and they’ve turned into one of the most formidable, dangerous bands around. So many people crowned “Heavy Breathing” as the best metal/hardcore record of 2010, and those who awarded that platter with that distinction likely will be blown to bits with “Sentenced to Life.” This band is a monster than cannot be held back, and there’s no telling how much damage they’ll do in the future.

For more on the band, go here: http://blackbreath.com/

To buy the album, go here: http://www.southernlord.com/store.php

For more on the label, go here: http://www.southernlord.com/

Photo by returntothepit.com

New Hampshire probably doesn’t seem like the logical origin for one of the USBM movement’s most promising and enthralling acts. I know that I had to read and re-read the press release on Vattnet Viskar before that fact truly set in that these guys hail from there. But it’s true. This quartet comes from one the New England territory’s prettier states and certainly has an appreciation and respect for the picturesque surroundings in their midst. That all comes to the forefront on the band’s excellent new self-titled EP, coming out on vinyl via new Brooklyn imprint Broken Limbs Recordings.

The domestic black metal scene has really prospered the past few years, with bands such as FALSE, Barghest, Bosse-de-Nage, Palace of Worms, Wrnlrd, Necrite, Fell Voices, Deafheaven, and Ash Borer (among many others) making excellent, genre-altering records that became templates to follow for those who came after them. There are a lot of great ideas and pounding music making the rounds, and I don’t remember a time when my record collection swelled so massively during a single period. Now with Vattnet Viskar (Swedish for “the water whispers”) in the mix, the pool gets deeper. In fact, if you’re into the aforementioned new crop of USBM bands, as well as veteran acts such as Agalloch and Wolves in the Throne Room, you’re bound to be excited by what you hear on this EP.

The only other recording to the band’s name is a well-received 2011 demo, so this band really is in its infancy. Considering that, they seem equivalent in their progress to a toddler who can read and do math. They sound like a group with far more experience together than their tenure indicates, as this three-cut effort is rich, rewarding, and wholly satisfying, especially for a listener such as myself who likes a nice bit of atmosphere. Surely a lot of that was generated by recording this thing in a barn, where they could be more in touch with the elements and not restricted to a confined space dominated by machines. That led to this stuff having a real, organic feel that’s in tune with an animalistic spirit.

Vattnet Viskar is made up of guitarist/vocalist Nicholas Thornbury, guitarist Chris Alfieri, bassist Adam Sobodacha and drummer Matt St. Jean, and they make for a really formidable unit. They play something akin to what has come to be known as Cascadian black metal, a term many people despise for some reason. Look, it’s just a label, but whether you like or not, it does happen to stand for a certain sound that these guys have a bit of. But it’s not all they do, so settle down. There’s also some spacious doom and sludge to their work, and Thornbury’s vocals are beastly and violent much of the time. It all combines to create a gigantic force that, as far as I can imagine, will become one of the more talked-about bands in underground metal very soon.

The three-track effort kicks off with “Weakness,” a song that’s made the rounds a little bit and is not to be judged by its name. While it opens with small town church bells and whispery chants, it explodes into a complete storm of chaos, with melodic threads, harsh vocals and eventually some delicacy via a nicely placed acoustic passage. It leads right into “InterventionOblivion,” a cut that has a pretty tasty groove from St. Jean before it turns into a song that would sound fitting being played on a blazing hot summer day, when the AC is dead, there is no breeze to be had, and you don’t know if you’ll succumb to dehydration. The song pulls you in with it and makes you sweat with its shoegazey power and total explosion of emotion. Closer “Barren Earth,” that clocks in at about 14 minutes, changes things up a bit, as acoustics help lead the way for the first part of the song, where they dabble in progressive rock, before it totally rips open. From there it gets colorful and dynamic, aggressively melodic, and completely savage. About three-quarters of the way through, the band hits on a riff they ride out to the end. It’s majestic and uplifting, a tremendous way to end this EP.

Vattnet Viskar’s debut EP is an impressive display that seems to indicate they’ll remain one of the more interesting acts in the USBM movement. They have a way of expressing themselves that reaches inside of you and makes you feel something. This band’s music might have a place in your home on a stormy summer evening, when all you have to keep you company are some burning candles, libations and your thoughts. In fact, next power outage, I’m going right for the iPod and giving this another visit.

For more on the band, go here: http://vattnetviskar.com/

To buy the album, go here: http://brokenlimbsrecordings.bandcamp.com/album/vattnet-viskar

To download the band’s 2011 demo for free, go here: http://vattnetviskar.bandcamp.com/

For more on the label, go` here: http://brokenlimbsrecordings.com/

No one likes a noisy smartass, am I right? Well, people with no sense of humor or adventure probably think that way, but I sure don’t. I’m down with bands that challenge your hearing and make you laugh at their cynicism all in the body of one album. That’s always good stuff.

What I’m on about is the debut full-length “The Shadow Gallery” from Brooklyn punishers Primitive Weapons, another strong release from the Prosthetic Records family in 2012. They’re on some kind of roll over there, what with their primary label and their union with rock-solid Indie Recordings and Lost Shepherd. This is one of those records that already has people talking, and the band’s mathy, ruptured, and kind of pissy style is a lot of fun to hear, especially in the company of more conservative listeners. These guys seem agitated, but they have wry smirks on their faces all the while. Clearly they know that things surrounding all of us kind of suck, can’t be changed, and will dog us forever, and they embrace the sarcasm that results. I feel a sense of kindred spirituality when I hear them hammer away.

Even their press material made me chuckle. The band members — Arthur Shepherd (guitars), Christopher Enriquez (drums), Justin Scurti (guitars), David Castillo (vocals), and Eric Oddness (bass) — claim to have been brought together because all suffer from Temporal Lobe Degenerative Syndrome, and their only solution was to seek out aural physician Alex Newport for therapy. Good stuff. In other words, Newport produced the band’s 7-inch effort released by Shinebox, and then the good doctor’s work was handed over to Dean Baltulinos at the esteemed Wild Arctic studio for further treatment. That intensive therapy resulted in “The Shadow Gallery.” So happy to see the guys pulling through such a difficult endeavor so well.

If you’re new to the band and sort of need some relative comparisons to know what to expect, imagine something involving Dillinger Escape Plan, Unsane, Tombs, and Cave In. The songs are confrontational and relentless, the music is steeped in math-core, hardcore and doom, and they even go for some post-metal and indie flourishes to keep things interesting. Castillo is a strong frontman, practically poking his finger into your chest while he berates you, yet sometimes he changes things up and croons quite capably when he needs to switch emotions. All the while, you feel like he’s reminding you that you’re screwed and that all you can do is laugh maniacally and lash out at those who oppress you. I don’t have access to the lyric sheet, sadly, so I can only guess at this. But it sure feels like I’m right.

The album is quite to the point. It’s but seven tracks long and lasts a little under 25 minutes, but they make the best use of such small space. And really, had they gone on any longer than this, they might have started to repeat themselves, but they recognized the value of brevity. If only more bands would do the same thing and not bloat their albums. The thing kicks off with “Good Hunting,” a sludgy, harsh, shout-filled diatribe that gives you a great indication for what lies ahead. “Quitter’s Anthem,” a track that’s made its way across the Internet the last few weeks, has a ’90s noise rock feel, with a raucous melody and some gang shouts for good measure.

Maniacal “The Death of Boredom” reminds me of Every Time I Die’s looser, hungrier early years, with energy and fury in spades; “Big Chief” is more sing-songy, and it doesn’t always work for me. It depends on my mood. “Oath” is led in by big-time drum work that sounds as if it’s going to be a showcase for Enriquez before blowing up into a scream-laced tirade; and closer “Black Funds” is fast and scathing, with Castillo making references to losing and continually pointing out, “You’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong.” It washes out with mechanical keys and some ricochets, as if it’s slithering back under the rock from whence it came.

“The Shadow Gallery” should cure what ails you if you’re one of those who has to choke back the bile and bitter feelings generated by everyday life. Things can get frustrating and downright unfair, and no one’s exactly racing to balance the disconnect (if anything, forces at work are trying to keep everything lopsided). So it’s nice to have some place to go and rip out your hair, and this record is just that destination. Hey, if this medical treatment worked for Primitive Weapons, just imagine what it could do for you!

For more on the band, go here: http://primitiveweapons.tumblr.com/

To buy the album, go here:http://store.prostheticrecords.com/index.php/bands/primitive-weapons/primitive-weapons-the-shadow-gallery-digi-pak.html

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

I try not to read a whole lot of text written by people who try to describe how music is supposed to sound. I have read the quote, “Where’s the song?” so many times, it makes me want to punch every person who says it. Exactly who decided songs were supposed to sound a particular way, and any deviation from that path leads to making music incorrectly? What a load of horse shit.

Isn’t music supposed to be a form of expression? If that’s so, then why does it have to adhere to structure? Structure is boring. When you’re sad, must you cry a certain way? When you’re angry, must you yell the same thing every time? Can you imagine if you had to reel in your shit just enough so that you made sure you expressed your emotions in the correct way? We might as well be robots. So when I hear someone theorize that songs need to have certain elements or the music just isn’t worth one’s time, I think it’s coming from someone with very little actual imagination.

I’m not suggesting bands that follow certain rules or parameters don’t make good music. Truth be told, most bands do walk a certain path to get an end result, and as long as the passion, creativity and quality is there, who cares how they got from point A to point B? But why must we turn our shoulder to those who do things differently? What’s wrong with taking 10 cans of paint, tossing them at a wall, smearing the contents all over it and yourself, and creating something primal and human? I love when bands do that, and that’s one of the things that drew me to San Francisco’s Sutekh Hexen, an unholy alliance of three musicians that conjures darkness you’re perhaps not ready to experience.

The band is comprised of Kevin Gan Yuen (of the awesome Circle of Eyes) on guitars/electronics/samples, Scott Miller (ex-Circle of Eyes, ex-Cattle Decapitation) on vocals/ guitars/other noises, and Lee Camfield on tape manipulation and electronics. That probably sounds like these guys make electronic, non-human music, what with all the non-traditional instruments especially when it comes to black metal, but what they create on their second full-length “Larvae” is astonishingly real, affecting and from the tortured, deranged soul. As noted, they don’t make songs in the way rigid thinkers demand them. Instead, they make dark, suffocating, ghostly, terrifying soundscapes that capture you and crush you from the outside. They make true scary music in a time when causing listeners’ skin to crawl has become a lost art. They spread their terror and noise like a deadly swarm, and their art may make you think of bands such as Sunn 0))), Xasthur, Leviathan, Palace of Worms and Khanate (this effort is mastered by James Plotkin, so…), but only loosely. There really is no accurate comparison out there. How refreshing.

“Larvae” is only three songs long, but it’s completely mesmerizing and chilling for its 30-minute duration. The band’s desire to wretch sounds and hidden dark bile buried deep within them has never been more impactful. It sounds like these guys plugged in and just let things go where they may. These cuts don’t sound composed, and that’s not a criticism because I like what sounds like very damaged spontaneity. “Isvar Savasana” opens the collection with eerie, washed out ambiance before scrapes and other noises slither in, and doomy passages and hellish screams come to pass. “Lead Us in Warfare” erupts in drone, hissing, and thunder, as melodies set themselves up in a most calculated fashion, disappear, rise up again, and suck every bit of light from the room. “Let There Be Light,” that clocks in at a few ticks over 15 minutes, is even odder than what precedes it, as folkish, unsettlingly calm acoustic guitar playing sets the stage, warbling dialog in the vein of Mike Patton and Tom Waits stands as the incantation, and, eventually, static-fried doom bludgeoning tears a hole through the whole thing. If you’re like me, you’ll need a few minutes after it fades away to collect your thoughts and digest what you’ve just encountered. If you have the cold sweats, that means it’s working on you.

There are no hooks, no sleek choruses, no real structure and no safety on “Larvae.” If you’ve followed this band on their many smaller releases and their first full-length “Luciform,” this won’t surprise you. This is an example of true, honest expression with no regard for how things are “supposed to be done,” and because of that, this music comes off as more horrific and genuine. Sutekh Hexen won’t make sense to all heavy music fans, but for those who can connect, every trip you take with this thing will be entirely different. Who could ask for more?

For more on the band, go here: http://www.myspace.com/sutekhhexen

To buy the album, go here: http://www.handmadebirds.com/store/HB-034.CD.php

For more on the label, go here: http://handmadebirds.com/

Wordless music should not mean story-free music . There has to be a thread woven, a reason to crack open the story and flip through the pages, hoping to find out how it all ends up. You need to be carried from arc to arc, twist to turn, without even thinking about need. This type of music, without the benefit of verbal communication, needs to move you and sway you in order to be effective. If it can’t, then it really is just sound.

One could argue the majority of mainstream rock, all adorned with lyrics, if that’s what you wish to call them, can’t move a feather with its flimsy, soulless content, and I’d not argue for a second. When I have the misfortune of hearing this drivel on a radio or in a store, I can’t imagine what made anyone want to create these songs other than for monetary gain or, you know, chicks. It’s even harder for me to ever grasp how people part with their hard-earned money for these songs unless it’s for, you know, chicks. Yeah, some dudes think that works. It’s an endless source of hilarity for me.

But back to instrumental music and the bands who do it just right. You’ve got Pelican, Mogwai, MONO, Caspian, Russian Circles, Gifts for Enola and plenty others. Some of those bands, from time to time, will employ some vocals, but those instances are very few and far between. Instead, they use their instruments, the synergy within the band and their emotions to tell a story and keep you tuned in from front to back. It can’t be easy, but considering the number of records I have from the aforementioned, it works for me. Another band along those lines is If These Trees Could Talk, an oddly monikered group from Akron, Ohio, who have perfected the dramatic and cinematic in short order.

Well, the band isn’t exactly new. They’ve been putting out music since their debut EP in 2006, and “Red Forest” is their latest and greatest. And it is their greatest because they’ve never been this in touch with their creativity and their passion. These nine songs are an incredible ride through your senses, a chance to soar on high and take deep breaths of air as you fly over the world in an out-of-body state. These songs never fail to grab me by the heart and pull me back up for more. Their melodies are surging and melodic, their stories are filled with drama, and their atmosphere is rich and colorful. This quintet hits on everything they try, and even though some of their songs can be kind of lengthy, you never feel like you’re being taken up too long.

The band – guitarists Jeff Kalal, Cody Kelly, and Michael Socrates, bassist Tom Fihe, and drummer Zach Kelly – really bring everything to life on this record. I can’t say enough about how strong and memorable the melodies are, and the guitar lines just stick in your head the way a great chorus would. After a fairly ambient, introductory “Open,” the band launches into “The First Fire,” a true mouthful of juicy shoegaze and post-metal fire. “Barren Lands of the Modern Dinosaur” feels somber and sorrowful for most of its run, eventually trickles like a stream, and ends in a blast. “They Speak With Knives” gets a little heavier and thunderous, as they allow themselves to get properly unhinged; the title cut is similar and has just a killer melodic spine running through it. That track is my favorite on the record by far. “Left to Rust and Rot” also goes for your vulnerable side and achieves a nice, wind-gusted setting with the rich slide guitar work; and the epic closer “When the Big Hand Buries the Twelve” ties the whole thing in a gigantic bow, sending this amazing record out on a high note.

If These Trees Could Talk should be in the collection of every fan of the aforementioned instrumental bands. They all share the same DNA and ability to connect, and this band should become one of the go-to acts for those of us who love this stuff. This has been in constant rotation for me since receiving the promo, and it’s not leaving my ears anytime soon. Movies and TV barely cut it for me anymore, so I need a band like this so I can dream up great adventures for myself.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.ifthesetreescouldtalk.com/

To buy the album, go here: http://www.scienceofsilence.limitedpressing.com/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.scienceofsilence.net/