Black metal, the most prolific of the dark arts, has given us a lot of content, and as that has accumulated to alarming degrees, its impact has taken a bit of a hit. Because there is just so much to take in, and it’s impossible to hear it all, I fear there is a lot of great content out there few people ever will have the chance to absorb. We need to grab onto that stuff while we can.

So, today we visit with UK black metal force Abduction, long the brainchild of vocalist/multi-instrumentalist A|V, that presents us with a devastating fourth record “Black Blood.” By the way, fun fact: Billy Jack Haynes once played a short-lived character Black Blood in WCW that pales in comparison to this beast of a project. I mentioned black metal being flooded with bands and music in a roundabout way, and that’s because it’s often hard to find the true gems, and Abduction certainly is one of those. This record is a miasmal adventure that at times can lure in any earnest fan of the sub-genre but also intrigue those who want to drive straight into a nightmare that is impossible to navigate. That adds even more excitement to what A|V (he has assembled a live version of the band you see pictured, but I could not find a reliable lineup) is trying to accomplish. It’s immersive and exciting, something that scratches an itch that didn’t seem easily reached.

“Kernos Crown” opens the record and slowly catches fire, bubbling up as full force arrives and brings a full black metal explosion. Vicious howls storm as the guitars spiral, a strong surge making its presence felt and shaking you to your core. The vocals murmur as the pace swings back, blazing colors fill the sky, and the final burst of electricity fries your wiring. “Dismantling the Corpse of Demeter” starts with keys echoing and dissonance filling your senses, the growls slithering through thickening storms that grow more ominous. Dizzying darkness pounds away, the howls rupture your guts, and a final burst of speed makes your blood rush before everything succumbs to the fog. “Plutonian Gate” is the longest track on the record, running 11 minutes and starting in a pit of strangeness, clean calls and atmospheric guitars teaming up. The guitars slide as A|V howls, “No journey without fire,” smearing disorienting dreams with raw reality. Calm lets you catch your breath, but then the playing blasts again, strange warbles stagger, and a final ripple of punishment brings this epic to a stunning end.

“Lightless at the Grand Conjunction” enters amid mesmerizing guitars and desperate howls, the gushing atmosphere becoming an even bigger factor as the playing takes a turn for the strange. Slurry and drunken melodies stagger with blurry vision, and then spacious playing explodes, daring fury catches fire, and the final gasps spread among the stars. “A Psylacybic Death” leans in and lets the ambiance develop before burly power caves in chests, and suddenly we’re in full mauling mode. Weird moans poke as the playing gets more involved, rapsy sung howls sting, and a final push sends a rush of blood barreling toward your brain. Closer “In Exaltation of the Supreme Being” unloads with crushing black metal and chanted clean vocals that feel ghostly and strange. It’s not long before the darkness swallows everything, the cloud cover increases and chills the earth, and the guitars scuffle as wild shrieks devastate. A slow calm takes hold as the smoke dissipates, piano drips, and the last gasp of horror disappears into the earth’s crust.

Abduction find a masterful way to play games with your psyche on “Black Blood,” a record that can be disorienting one second, bludgeoning your psyche with power the next. Black metal clearly has been overserved to us as listeners, but sometimes bands like this one figure out ways to make it interesting, mysterious, and even scary. This is a record that is not easy to predict, and even on subsequent listens, the avenues you take seem to angle you in directions you still can’t anticipate.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/abduction616/

To buy the album, go here: https://abduction.lnk.to/BlackBloodPR

For more on the label, go here: https://www.candlelightrecords.co.uk/

It’s that time again where I associate gloomy, deadly music with the haunting and spooky times we’re about to have, and if that’s too cliched now, you’ll just have to live with it. I’m stressed out, and these openings don’t just write themselves. It also happens to be really accurate with today’s subject matter, so if darker tidings are your thing, get ready to indulge.

Oh, and if you happen to worship at the altar of the early Peaceville catalog, you’ll probably want to dig right into “Voices from a Fathomless Realm,” the debut full-length from Cavernous Gate. Vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Sebastian “S.K.” Körkemeier helms the project, and you likely know him from Helrunar. Here he delves deeply into the doom/death metal combo that frosted so many hearts when it came to prominence three decades ago. It’s rich territory from which to mine, and Körkemeier does an excellent job capturing that same vibe but also adding plenty of his own personal touches. He’s also joined at times by vocalist Jenny Kalbitz, who adds her own shadowy fingerprints to this nine-track, hourlong adventure that is sure to turn your blood to oil. 

“That Night… (Intro)” has clean calls and chants, drums opening, keys chiming, and overall eeriness that works into your bones and meets up with “Old Graves Stir” that instantly throws gothy punches. Pastoral calls pave the way for growls entering and shaking cobwebs, the grime thickening even as cleaner singing enters the fray and melds with icy melodies. The fog increases as the playing trudges, the intensity picks up, and then it’s back into the shadows as elegant guitars fade out. “Through the Morass” lets guitars heat up as darker singing enters, the power stomping through mud puddles, the humidity rising. It feels like cold rain is washing over you as the music flexes its muscles, mystical drama arrives, and the playing unloads, leads soaring as the murk settles over all things. “Conjuration” starts as organs send chills, the ambiance setting up slowly and trickling over rock and ice. Growls gut as acoustics mix in and add mystery to the pummeling, speak-singing hangs in the air, and then ugliness reigns again. A synth wall stands firm, mucky riffs collect, and the final words disappear into the night.

“A World in Shade” begins with epic synth and growls going for your guts, haziness emerging and trying to claim your soul. The pace chugs as the guitar stretch their wings and soar, and then a menacing spirit attempts to take you. Choral sections wash over, strings ache, and doom horns sound their last. “Watcher of the Vast” is a quick interlude built with drums echoing, strange beings lurking, and spacey keys bringing cosmic coldness, heading into “The Artefact” the emerges amid fiery guitars. The pace is more aggressive and menacing, synth horns beckon, and then the fires set aggravate to scorch faces, growls bubbling through the cracks. The intensity finally begins to settle as Körkemeier whispers, “Now I wander between worlds,” as the dream comes to an end. “The Turning Veil” dawns with thick keys and flutes, the wondrous melody growing more present. Guitars burn as gothy doom lurks, clean calls spread, and the emotions cloud the skies, delivering soulful bloodletting. From there, the power slowly loosens its grips, Körkemeier and Kalbitz both call out, and the final embers sink into the dirt. “Skeleton Path (Outro)” ends the record with synth glow and wordless calls, reaching deep inside your body to claim a piece of your heart.

With thick moon beams pounding down, the chill in the air making your body shiver, Cavernous Gate bring an ideal musical complement to that experience as “Voices from a Fathomless Realm” lurks in your mind. Any sucker for ’90s death and doom is served generously here as this hour is a heavy, penetrating experience that drains you of your light. But it also helps you understand and align with darkness that may have made you feel shaky before but now seems more like welcome terrain.   

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

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/cavernous-gate-voices

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

Art is subjective, and its impact on us is unique to the individual and the way our brains absorb it. That’s why people have favorite songs and bands and albums and labels because what those entities do happen to work better on our psyches than some others. It always feels weird to me as a writer who is to remain objective to have favorites, but I’m human and I love music that makes me feel something.

One of the most important bands to me the last decade is SubRosa, whose content swept over me emotionally, musically, and philosophically and became a constant go-to when I needed something, anything to feel a pulse. A trip with four closer friends to see them in NYC several years ago stands out as one of the best weekends of my life. The band’s dissolution in 2019 was gutting, and though they promised other projects, the emptiness was deep and real. However, three years later we get “Folium Lumina,” the debut record from The Otolith that formed from SubRosa’s ashes. Four fifths of that band—violinist/lead vocalist Sarah Pendleton, violinist/vocalist Kim Cordray, drummer/percussionist Andy Patterson, and guitarist/vocalist Levi Hanna (he was in SubRosa from 2014-2017)—form the core of the Otolith along with bassist/vocalist Matt Brotherton, and they continue to operate in that atmospheric doom headspace that gets a little dirtier and sometimes more psychedelic on an excellent six-track debut that takes on a new life with every listen. If you’re skeptical, don’t be. It’s not a SubRosa record, nor should it be since it’s a whole new being. But there’s enough of that factor to reconnect the canals to your heart and so much more that goes beyond any hopes and expectations that you know you’re dealing with a new animal entirely. An exciting one that sends you on a different path to your dreams.

“Sing No Coda” opens the record elegantly and urgently, birds cawing as the strings rise, the branches slowly budding. Pendleton’s vocals are compelling and sweltering, the power gusts as every element comes to life, breathing a familiar but new energy. Everything swoons and then jars, the cello eases into the room and then things get thicker as the storming comes down harder now, your adrenaline working to keep you safe and alive. Burly power connects, the doomy waters rise, and wordless calls echo off into the distance. “Andromeda’s Wing” feels instantly psychedelic but then the charges bend and break, sludge collects in veins, and vicious howls drive daggers into the earth. Later on, the singing returns and aches, and everything melds together and sparks a Celtic spirit, prodding and fluttering. Higher vocals bring a new dynamic, and then things land even harder, the wild shrieks penetrate your mind, and the final surges jet off into the sun. “Ekpyrotic” brings taunting guitars and impossibly dark clouds as the strings connect in a tornadic gust, and throaty howls deliver seismic strikes. The playing unloads as the doomy spirits haunt in unison, thrusting through your organs, bringing dramatic swelling that pushes your heart. A fog collects and loosens, the playing begins to hulk again, and everything merges into one whole, dissolving into time.

“Hubris” eases into the picture as if from a vision, slowly melting as the vocals float in air, bringing energy that feels foreign but not unwelcome. The mood continues on that path until the ground ruptures, the blood flows, and the breathtaking display in front of your eyes and worming into your ears transforms you. Storming howls decimate, the playing waylays, and the earth beneath you ripples, fading into the edges of a dream. “Bone Dust” dawns with sounds rumbling, the hint of something profound on the horizon, and that promise later is kept. The band takes time to build the ambiance, feeling crackles and jolts going through your body, heartfelt vocals working on your emotions and making you breathe deeply. The playing continues to darken and seems to be setting the stage for something, that being the Charlie Chaplin anti-fascist speech from the 1940 movie “The Great Dictator,” a scene that this world needs now more than ever. Or at least since the time it initially was delivered. The music builds with the delivery, starting softer and more vulnerable and then roaing into a firestorm, Chaplin’s words spitting from his mouth, with his final call to, “Unite!” echoing off into the world to be absorbed. “Dispirit” closes the album with a quiver, the guitars chiming, the strings icing wounds, the singing making your heart pulsate. Momentum swells and crests, the howls decimate mountains, and the fires rage and give off thick smoke that waters your eyes. Keys drip, cold weather gasps its first, and static spits, ending this first adventure with noise fuzz and birds returning to repeat their messages.

SubRosa’s existence and spirit was wholly unique and incredibly special, and it’s unfair to expect the Otolith to be able to duplicate that. But they do, yet they also create their own DNA with “Folium Lumina” as they strike out on their own journey that’s connected to their past but also driving joyously and ominously into a new future. This record is an incredible start, a document that feels different with every listen as it develops its own identity. The Otolith scratch an impossible itch we didn’t think was reachable, yet here they are, uniting with us again in a fresh and exciting way.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.bluesfuneral.com/#https://www.bluesfuneral.com/search?q=josiah+we+lay+on+cold+stone

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

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/