We discuss heavy music here every day, almost entirely in the metal spectrum, and one of the things that makes doing this so worthwhile is the depth to which bands have pushed their sounds, no matter their chosen path. I sound like a broken record, but the artists who keep testing things, continue challenging expectations tend to be the ones that stick closest to us as time expires.

Italian doom force Messa fall into that category of bands who are flexing what it means to be heavy, and their last record “Feast for Water” was an explosive awakening for us as it comes to basking in their power. They’ve now responded with their third record “Close,” one that continues the smoky doom to which they’re devoted but also pushes into Middle Eastern and Mediterranean melodies and auras that add an intoxicating element into their music. The band—vocalist Sara, guitarist Alberto, guitarist/bassist Mark Sade, drummer Mistyr—increases its magic over 10 tracks and 65 minutes of power, with no song sounding remotely like any other. It’s a record you want to put on and let transform you as you work through each track, taking on an imaginative, smoldering experience that leaves you inebriated.

“Suspended” begins with Fender Rhodes keys quivering and Sara’s amazing, alluring voice stretching, infecting you. Elegant power unfurls, the pace pumps, and sounds echo, eventually melting into jazzy guitars. Sara’s voice calls out again, and the playing ends in a pit of grace. “Dark Horse” is faster and more propulsive as it begins, and then things settle into a groove, working into your blood. “I only see with my eyes closed,” Sara’s voice soars as the guitars bubble and pick up, and a simple gasp she gives off sends chills down your spine. Things gets sludgier and muddier, sounds hover, and chimes send one final chilling gust. “Orphalese” opens with wind woods and a hovering essence, the psychedelics increasing. The vocals are higher and haunting, the playing gives off Middle Eastern-style melodies that add great texture, and things move like a fog. Horns bellow as the playing gets even more hypnotic, and the melodies burst with life, ending the track in fire. “Rubedo” delivers punchy guitars and cooling melodies, and the vocals brush up against your side, feeling bluesy in a tasteful way. The vocals take off as the playing explodes, a charring solo absolutely takes charge, and the vocals tear back into flesh, leaving you flustered. “Hollow” is a quick instrumental with classic acoustic picking and a mystical essence, letting you fully exhale. At least momentarily.

“Pilgrim” runs 9:26 and starts with mystical strings and vocals floating on the wind. Things flow gently before the track breaks open, sending jolts of electricity. The singing is deep and soulful, and the guitars drip, pushing lightning into your veins, going burly and melodic. The calls get steamier, echoes float through time, and a few final fuzzy blasts leave you permanently affected. “0-2” is the longest cut, running 10:30 and starting like something out of a fever dream. Flutes scrape the air as softer vocals tangle with the trancey playing, and Sara sings about the ominous place named in the title. Guitars give off bluesy smoke, shuffling and numbing, a saxophone tearing in and lighting everything ablaze. Those flames lap and maul, guitars trample, and everything ends suddenly. “If You Want Her to Be Taken” slides in and moans, the psychedelic energy overflowing. The vocals turn seductive as the guitars cut into muscle, and the trudging multiplies. Sara’s vocals reach for the stratosphere again, and the crunch from the guitars leave you both bruised and soothed. “Leffotrak” is a total shocker, a mauling bruiser that lives for just 44 seconds and completely bludgeons you with speed, violence, and ugly vocals that shred your sanity. It kind of doesn’t fit. But it’s so weirdly out of place, it’s perfect. “Serving Him” is the closer, a blistering, sultry track that slowly unloads and delivers a plodding stomp, Sara’s vocals floating through the carnage. The tempo plays games, teasing and scorching, haunting all the way. “He really wants you, too,” Sara calls, something that returns throughout the final half of the song, and it feels like the sun is blazing, letting warm water trickle though a buildup of ice.

Messa already demonstrated some pretty special powers on their first two records, hinting at something great and overwhelming that we finally have on “Close,” easily their most impressive creation on an already impressive resume. Each of these 65 minutes gets inside of you and lives in your mind, acting as an intoxicating agent you’ll hungrily absorb. Messa is a special band that has fully arrived on this record, and when we’re thinking back to the most important musical moments of 2022, it will be criminal to do that without heavily praising “Close.”

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

To buy the album, go here: https://svartrecords.com/product/messa-close-album/

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

More than a decade ago, I was on a road trip when our group was encountered by one of the most vicious thunderstorms I ever witnessed in my life. We had to retreat to a nearby restaurant where we watched helplessly as the power was cut off, and the large metal poles holding the lights in the parking lot practically bent in half. It felt like a force greater than we are was out for blood.

That story rushed back into my brain when taking on “Dreams of Fragmentation,” the first record from Oakland, Calif., progressive black metal band Cailleach Calling. The band is named after the Cailleach, a figure from Gaelic mythology who is at the heart of storms and thunder but also provides a delicate, caring hand to nature and animals in the winter. That summer day, she was at our throats! The band’s members—vocalist Chelsea Murphy, guitarist/bassist/synth player Tony Thomas, drummer Yurii Kononov—inhabit other bands such as Dawn of Ouroboros and Botanist, and here they bring a mixture of black metal that is both volatile and atmospherically beautiful, feeling like the heart and aftermath of a wailing storm.

“Phosphenic Array” starts at a torrid pace, shrieks wrapping over top, progressive hell unfurling over its entire reach. Synth glaze settles as the anguish increases, growls dig deeper into the skin, and an atmospheric rush aligns with a hypnotic fury that keeps the storm increasing. The pace pushes fluid energy, eating away at you before the playing zaps into synth bubbles. “Bound By Neon” enters in murk, keys simmering, the shrieks drilling into the mind. Whispery speaking runs into a chilling nighttime vibe, spacing out and then ripping back smothering. Cosmic swirls stain the sky as the leads char, desperate wails reach into chest cavities, and everything dissolves into the distance.

“Cascading Waves” is the longest track, running 15:07, and it eases in on the wind, slowly developing a thickening ambiance, the synth whipping a cloud cover as Murphy’s voice adds an element of hypnosis. The playing gets moodier and poetic, and the singing adds a dose of beauty and elegance, barreling into the mists when things suddenly come unglued. Black metal terror explodes from the seams, rampaging recklessly, meeting up with fiery shrieks and utter brutality. Keys wash into the background as chaos sharpens its blades, rippling out into a sound breeze. “Mercurial Inversion” ends the record with wrenching hell, keys drizzling, and the leads soaring into the stars. The playing is punishing and spacious, the vocals shred, and some clean notes slip nearly undetected into the power. Your senses are battered as the final stretch jabs at psychedelic heat, dissolving in your skin.

“Dreams of Fragmentation” is properly named as the record feels like it’s jolting the electricity in your brain that fires up your storytelling elements, but in a sense that isn’t exactly linear. Cailleach Calling’s debut gets inside your body and infects, but not entirely in a dangerous way. It becomes part of your psyche, it molds you, and it makes your imagination an even more powerful tool as you bow to the majesty and power of nature.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://debemurmorti.aisamerch.com/

Or here (Europe): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/12-eshop

For more on the label, go here: https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/

There are myriad reactions to what’s plagued our lives the last two years, sorry for the really bad pun. We can’t shake it or avoid it no matter how hard we try because reality is what it is. You cannot defeat it. Those feelings and reactions go on to color our lives and how we interact, what we create, the energy we put out into the world. That’s something that can go any number of ways.

For Danish blackened doom quartet Konvent, their reaction was violence and frustration, emotions that make for ugly tension and chaos. That was poured into their powerful second record “Call Down the Sun,” a nine-track, 45-minute bruiser of an album that shows the band rising to a new, more scathing level. The isolation we have faced, the band not being able to play shows, which is their lifeblood, went into making these songs darker, more violent, more volatile. The band—vocalist Rikke Emilie List, guitarist Sara Helena Norregaard, bassist Heidi Withington Brink, drummer Julie Simonsen—lays waste to your body and mind, sounding more dangerous and frustrated, pouring all of their frustration into this destructive collection. It’ll fuck you up.

“Into the Distance” dawns in murk, and it isn’t long until you’re sustaining great bodily damage, List’s incomprehensible growls slithering toward you. The retching intensity eats into your intestinal tract as the playing trucks, ominous riffs churn, and the track burns away. “Sand Is King” revels in brutal growls and shrieks, and the band pummels you with doom hammers that very much make contact. You’re battered and trapped, the bruises increase, and the track curdles before dissolving. “In the Soot” is swollen from the start as the guitars lay waste, and the animalistic growls live as a thorn jammed into your side. The pace batters bones as the growls keep going for blood while the band leans into that attack and ends the thing in exhaust fumes. “Grains” is gritty and painful before the track opens, and the growls maul and devour flesh. Burly power keeps the fires blazing, the guitars glimmer, and List’s terrifying voice lands further blows that will force you to cower in fear.

“Fatamorgana” enters covered in soot, and it slowly burns as the playing gets more intense. The riffs leave welts but also hypnotize in spots, group howls feel tribal and ready for the kill, and the riffs spiral and threaten, moving into “Interlude” that has scorched guitars and mesmerizing paths carved. “Never Rest” trudges as the growls sludge, and the melodies bubble in blood that sizzles from the heat. The tempo moves dangerously, the growls surge, and the playing encircles you, capturing your as prey. “Pipe Dreams” enters with menacing riffs and hulking power, playing tricks with your mind. The power is numbing and crushing, shrieks tear into your flesh, and monstrous plodding carries the track to its violent end. “Harena” is the 7:13-long closer, entering with drums at full power, growls drilling into vulnerable flesh. The melodies feel sorrowful in spots, even as the music is vicious and bloody, and the emotional toll is paid repeatedly. The guitars wallow, the vocals tear at your throat, and the fires are aggravated one last time, the track ending in ominous tidings.

Konvent already showed enormous power and doom presence on their debut, but “Call Down the Sun” is on a different level as this band’s teeth get sharper and gnarlier. This record takes you to task, batters you from pillar to post, and refuses to end your suffering until the very end. This band is on the verge of something profoundly violent, and this record will be remembered as one of their bloodier building blocks.

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

To buy the album, go here (North America): https://www.napalmrecordsamerica.com/

Or here (rest of the world): https://napalmrecords.com/

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

For the past six months or so, I’ve been using a CBD vape cartridge to calm my anxiety and make what’s been a particularly stressful period of my life a little bit more bearable. It kind of washes over my brain and eases me into what I have to do, and it helps shut down the static any time my stupid brain reminds me I’m supposed to be panicking right now. It’s been a revelation.

Taking on “Vexier,” the second full-length from Swiss doom trio E-L-R, reminds me of that chemical reaction that somehow manages to quell my chaos. Over five expertly woven tracks, the band—guitarist/vocalist S.M., bassist/vocalist I.R., drummer M.K., (Remo Häberli provides additional guitars)—crafts creations that soak in doom’s dark pools, but they do so with a sense of wonder and serenity, almost acting like a drug that gets into your system and lets you feel just enough fire before pulling you back to safety. While the band certainly employs its share of metallic energy, the flip side is so involved and mesmerizing, letting you take on this adventure with a sense that you’re soaring through imagination, exploring peaks and valleys previously unattainable outside of your mind.

“Opiate the Sun” arrives amid clean, soothing guitars and a thick haze, and then things begin to blow open more fully. Voices floats together and mix in your headspace, the playing continues to double and pound away psychologically, and then calm is achieved again, slowly melting as the waters drip into roaring streams. “Three Winds” arrives more aggressively, guitars jab into your ribs, and the riffs cascade dangerously, eventually growing calmer as chirps infuse nature into the playing. Gazey power explodes as the playing heavily gushes, and layers get applied liberally, swirling and melting away.

“Seeds” starts with an ominous bassline lurking and the riffs opening, eating away at your mind. The playing crushes as voices echo, and the sense of dreaminess increases, leaving heavy hypnotics there to do their trick and enrapture as the ending rouses and smokes. “Fleurs of Decay” starts by making your head feel light as the melodies repeat, bringing serenity and warmth. The singing swells as everything increases in pressure, and the bubbling soaks into your blood. The playing rumbles as the main melody line returns, the power stays immersive, and the elements fade and return with closer “Forêt,” featuring BAZE on vocals. Drums echo as the tempo plods, and the ambiance thickens and makes the air stickier. Voices blend, speaking gives off a dissociative vibe, and the condensation gets heavier, pounding and turning to liquid. The playing starts to slow in its motion, your blood pressure levels, and the final drops are devoured by earth.

“Vexier” is a record that both gives us a better understanding of the strength E-L-R hold in their songwriting and expression, and it also acts as a special document that you go to when you need to challenge your mind and senses. It’s heavy, yes, but it’s just as delicate and vulnerable, with an energy you can feel throbbing beneath every part. This is a record and band that capture something that feels like electricity generated at a specific moment in time and given a chance to live forever.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/elr-vexier

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

The past few years have done plenty to so many of us, one of the largest thing being we have been ripped out of our comfort zones. That’s both good and bad. Being out in public and spending time around people is more difficult and riskier due this ongoing virus, but during that time, we finally have learned hard lessons about power structures and oppression, despite some burying their heads in sand.

Brooklyn-based traditional metal trio Sanhedrin has not been immune to this either, and their new record “Lights On” directly confronts a lot of these issues and more, making it a record that sounds incredible but also refuses to shy away from hard lessons. The band members—vocalist/bassist Erica Stoltz, guitarist Jeremy Sosville, drummer Nathan Honor—personally were impacted, suffering the loss of family and the fact that they had to work on this new record isolated from one another, but they powered through and created their most impressive record so far. This is full of energy and metallic glory, helping you revel in their gritty glory.

“Correction” is a punchy, direct opener that takes on the last two years of our lives without pulling punches. “Dead of winter 2020, a plague is on the rise,” Stoltz howls as the guitars pick up, and the pace gets the energy going. “When every child becomes a human sacrifice and everybody’s seeing darkness in the light,” Stoltz lashes over the bridge before the chorus, and the band keeps dashing harder and harder to the end. The title track is a blazing force, Stoltz reminding, “History is a vicious circle,” a lesson we’ve learned too often especially the last two years with Ahmaud Arbery, Trayvon Martin, George Floyd and so many others being robbed of justice. The pace is defiant, the guitars rip into your nervous system, and the chorus rushes again, ending the track in flames. “Lost at Sea” is stormy and hazy when it begins, punching through the verses, making things bloody and rowdy. “Seven generations lost at sea,” Stoltz laments as strong soloing takes off, and the final moments flatten and leave you heaving on the floor. “Change Takes Forever” delivers great riffs, a total assault, and another message about how trying to make a positive impact in society often faces roadblocks. “It’s now or never!” Stoltz calls, trying to ignite those fires that often take so long to spark, and the soloing adds an extra dose of desperation, giving off an incredible classic metal jolt.

“Code Blue” delivers something missing from much in heavy music anymore: a classic bolt of sexual desire. “Code blue, code blue, I want you,” Stoltz declares over the chorus, and the playing is bluesy as hell, psychedelic in other spots, and everything here properly scorches. “Scythian Women” is an anthem honoring female warriors discovered buried in Russia, and it brings a fast, chugging approach, totally melting flesh from bone. “Nothing can stop them, they are the wind,” Stoltz declares as the bass rumbles and the guitars blaze, ending the track in a blast of power. “Hero’s End” plays with elements of a classic power ballad and formative roots of heavy metal, just nailing all the right buttons. The verses take their time building the structure, and the chorus just slams home the intent, making the hairs stand on your arms. The music is powerful and impossible to shake, and when Stoltz wails, “All hope is fading,” it eats into your heart and mind. Closer “Death Is a Door” is the longest track at 7:04, and it starts with the drums rolling in echo and the playing taking its time to develop an ambiance. The track then bursts to life as the playing jars, and Stoltz calls, “Live for survival, you’re pushing too hard.” Hearty woah-oh-oh calls get your adrenaline going, the guitars lap, and Stoltz’s reminder that, “I think we’re in denial,” is that last stab trying to wake up a society easily lulled to sleep.

Not only do Sanhedrin deliver one hell of a fiery heavy metal record with “Lights On,” they’re another band who decided to use their voice to shine a light on the problems in our country and world and refuse to shy away from them. This band always has been one of the more powerful banner carriers for classic metal, but with this record, they’ve created something incredibly special and powerful. This is Sanhedrin’s finest moment, and this is a record that carries a message that still need to be amplified so those asleep finally are jarred awake.

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

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

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

We’re reaching the tail end of winter here in the United States, so the colder days soon will be a thing of the past, and people can go outside and get some relief from their mental strife. At least I hope so. But the change of the seasons is a luxury of sorts when you look back at history and some events that caused climates to react strangely, something that always could happen again.

For their new album “Kuusumu,” doom powers Kuolemanlaakso sunk back into the volcanic winter of 536 and the subsequent decade-long winter the Western hemisphere endured at the time, which was one of the most dramatic weather shifts in documented history. It impacted crops and cultures, later was met by the Bubonic plague and famine, and that led to a miniature ice age that lasted all the way to 660. Grim. Frostbitten. It’s been a little while since we heard from Kuolemanlaakso, eight years to be exact, and the band—vocalist Mikko Kotamäki (also from Swallow the Sun), guitarist/backing vocalist Laakso, guitarist Kouta, bassist Usva, drummer Tiera, and guest vocalist Lotta Ruutiainen (of Luna Kills)—combines for seven weighty tracks that are dark, foreboding, sometimes alarmingly gorgeous, and completely buried in wintry oppression.

“Pimeys laski” begins with thunder and piano melting, creating a dreary landscape that leads to the power kicking in and bruising. Clean calls blend with the growls emitted from Kotamäki, mixing nightmare with dream, and that duel continues as the song progresses, the track dramatically crash landing at the end. “Katkeruuden malja” begins with guitars jolting and the pace getting more aggressive, with a great chorus enhanced by Ruutiainen’s singing. The playing keeps mashing as clean vocals sweep, Ruutiainen rises again, and the emotion swirls as the title is called repeatedly, knifing into your chest. “Surusta meri suolainen” lands in a doomy haze as the vocals walk through foggy tones, and gothy pumps add an essence of mystery. Synth clouds whir as the drums get more aggressive and the growls devastate, growing more violent and volatile as things end in tornadic glory.

“Kuohuista tulisten koskien” crushes hard as the growls mar, and a melodic fog lifts and surrounds you with intimidating force. The vocals become a larger phantom, Ruutiainen and Kotamäki combining and making your blood rush, the mists increasing, and the track dissolving into a heatwave. “Surun sinfonia” delivers melting guitars, glorious speaking that booms, and the guitars creating a bright glaze before morbidity sets in. Gruff speak singing pushes into the verses as the moodiness increases, and Euro-style melodies are generated by the keys, the chorus sweeping back for one more ride as the final moments swell your chest. “Pedon vaisto” punches in as the growls settle, carving through at a glacial pace. The track rumbles back and forth from aggressive to calming, spooky keys make your nerves tingle, and the playing gets even more intense. The leads move back in and tear things apart, the speed increases, and everything ends in a heavy dose of disorientation. “Tulessakävelijä” closes the record with a gothy, punchy gust and a chugging pace, the growls welling and collecting blood. Ruutiainen returns to add her dreamy textures, and the storm increases, stirring and haunting. The final moments gather all voices together, keys that make your blood rush, and synth swirling out into the unknown.

An eight-year wait between records didn’t hurt Kuolemanlaakso’s momentum as all as “Kuusumu” is a properly dour, oftentimes elegant record that picks at all the right nerve endings. The material that gave the record its inspiration is dark and threatening, and its wintry vibe can be felt through this entire thing, chilling you to the bone. Hopefully we don’t wait another eight years for this band to return, but as long as the music is as good as this, we’ll maintain our patience because we know it’ll be worth it.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://svartrecords.com/product/kuolemanlaakso-kuusumu-album/

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

Bands should advance from record to record, which is the moat obvious thing ever. Sometimes they don’t, and we get music that doesn’t advance all that much, and maybe that’s OK. But if you’re going to make a run at this and you don’t want to keep cranking out the same shit, making moves and taking steps between records is healthy, unless you’re advancing toward “Load” or something. Huh?

New Jersey force Hath has shown a pretty marked improvement from their 2019 debut record “Of Rot and Ruin” and their new creation “All That Was Promised,” offering a deadlier more forceful brand of their progressive death metal. They remain influenced by black metal roots as well, and that helps make this nine-track, 51-minute beast into a force with which to be reckoned. The band—guitarist/vocalist   Frank Albanese, guitarist Peter Brown, bassist/vocalist Greg Nottis, drummer AJ Viana—wrote together as a four-piece unit for the first time, and the results are clear as this thing is a crusher that forces you to battle it up to the final smoldering minutes.

“The Million Violations” trickles in before the power detonates, and then the band pummels you into a paste. Scathing vocals begin to jerk and smother, the direction gets stranger, and vicious roars pound over the haze, ending with a stunning stampede. “Kenosis” is devastation as soon as it arrives, bludgeoning and smearing blood on the ground, the growls tearing through the cosmos. Clean vocals mix with hammering growls, and then things spiral as the spacey vibe multiplies, ripping at guts and disappearing into a void. “Lithopaedic” starts with synth and chants before the quaking begins, and a scathing attack is mounted. The playing zaps and melts into a calm section, coming out of the other end with a black metal-style force, and the chaos continues until everything mixes into a gothy aura. “Iosis” starts delicately with acoustics, giving you a false sense of security as the track comes to life. The pace is aggressive and deadly, going off in a crazed manner, fluid soloing flooding and crushing. The growls massacre, and then a doom meltdown arrives, ending everything in darkness.

“Decollation” opens with the drums decimating everything on front of them, growls and clean calls mixing, and the band slamming on the gas pedal. Synth strangeness breaks up the violence, psychedelic colors flush, and then the madness accelerates, bleeding into the ground. “Death Complex” burns in, taking swings and making contact, aggravating the collecting fires. There’s a muddiness to the mix, and then the soloing cuts through that, soaring into the atmosphere and robbing you of breath. “Casting of the Self” begins delicately, pushing into the stratosphere, and then things come apart, spewing muscles and bone. The vocals jolt as the melody plays a bigger role, the chorus feels raspy and raw, and guitars drip before suddenly fading. The title track slowly thaws as the guitars well up, and then the band starts to slay dangerously. The playing gets more intense as creaky speaking mars the senses, and things turn mesmerizing and humid, blistering to a violent end. “Name Them Yet Build No Monument” closes the record and is wiry when it starts, working into your bones, blasting into chunky thrashing. The guitars char as the pace stomps, the vocals get more maniacal, and the heat meets up with a heavy fog, ending the track in misery.

Hath sound channeled and animalistic on “All That Was Promised,” turning in a powerful, sharp performance that mixes death metal with blackened fury. Their precision is impressive but never trades heart for chops, and it’s an album that should go down easy for anyone with an appetite for heavy music. This is a solid step forward for Hath, who seem to be finding their hideous and devastating powers.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.willowtip.com/store/

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

Usually, I come into these stories with a plan. Not necessarily a great plan, but a plan nonetheless. Today is an exception because there’s no way to prepare for something you can’t even properly define to yourself, so how are you supposed to do with in 600 words to help other people decipher when you cannot? Well, at least it made for some unconventional thinking for a change.

There is very little I can say about “Pools of Green Fire,” the debut offering from Urushiol, that’ll even make any sense. This project, the creation of Yellow Eyes bassist Alexander DeMaria, is fucked up in a way we have not approached before. The label experimental death metal has been affixed by some to this album, and sure, why not? I guess in the most simplistic terms, that’s what it is. The music actually reminded me of Jeff VanderMeer’s The Southern Reach Trilogy and the defacing of nature into some warped form in Area X where you know you recognize the terrain, but it looks like something even the most deranged of dreams could not envision. This record likely isn’t best consumed by anyone on the brink of panic or by listeners easily jarred by strange and deformed melodies. This record is a task, one that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed even as I’ve tried to defend my psyche. Good enough? OK, let’s go.  

“Phase Lock” starts with warped chirps of deranged nature that ravaged and twisted by some cosmic force, and then the song storms open. The guitar work is absolutely insane, sounding almost like someone rapid fire playing a theremin (it’s like that for almost the entire album), and the power is uncompromising. The whole thing encircles and forces you to confront your own madness, the zaniness amplifies dangerously, and things fold and mash, bleeding out into terror. “Pillars of Red Smoke” delivers what can only be called cursed riffs, vocals that tangle your brain, and a relentless pace that challenges your stability. The drums savage, and the music starts to feel like a mental chemical burn, the guitars stagger, and the pressure mounts, ending in wild pressure.

“Iridescent Darkness” delivers swelling guitars that search the surroundings, daring and racing to who the fuck knows where. Guitars shriek as the growls are buried in hell, things get speedy and spacey, and things keep eating away, spitting fire and ending in craziness. “Curved Air” bludgeons and scars, while the bass clobbers and sends jolts down your spine. Beastly howls pound you as the guitars zap and hypnotize, and the pace speeds and warps, adding to your confusion. The assault blisters as things get even more bizarre, the shrieks pelt your skull, and the noise whips into unexplored alien terrain. The title track ends the record, jabbing and lathering, instantly putting you to the test. The strangeness collects like a slime, and the howls reverberate inside your brain, increasing the anxiety. The drums pummel as the playing gets even more impossible, sucking you into a sound halo that removes you from this world.

I’m not sure the words above can accurately or competently describe “Pools of Green Fire,” the debut offering from Urushiol. It’s easily one of the most baffling death metal records you ever will hear, hyperbole intended, and even after several visits, I still can’t make heads or tails of this thing. Is it here to intimidate? Haunt? Taunt? All of the above? This is a hectic and psychotic display almost impossible to put into word. At least not human words.  

For more on the band or to buy the album, go here: https://urushiol.bandcamp.com/album/pools-of-green-fire

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

There are only so many obstacles that can be placed in front of someone before they start to wonder if the venture is even worth pursuing. While everyone faces struggle in their lives, sometimes the circumstances just get to be too heavy, and it’s understandable when that ends projects in their tracks. But there are some who cannot be deterred, even when the water is up to the neck.

The story of Eight Bells has not always been a smooth one, despite the band making some of the most compelling music in all of metal’s terrain the last decade. But a leg injury guitarist/vocalist Melynda Jackson sustained on their tour with Voivod a few years back was a big physical setback, and then the dissolution of the lineup that recorded their last record “Landless” seemed to be another massive blow. But Jackson didn’t give in. She kept searching for the right parts that she found in bassist/vocalist Matt Solis (Cormorant, Ursa) and drummer Brian Burke (No Shores, Cave Dweller), and that unit produced “Legacy of Ruin,” the band’s excellent second full-length. The progressive ambitions and melding of all types of rupturing sounds from the trio is enthralling and pummeling, and the vocals remain vital and entrancing, this time mixing gender voices and adding a different element to the mix.

“Destroyer” starts with noises swelling and Jackson and Solis merging their voices for haunting harmonies. “I am death, destruction, I am strife and struggle, I am suffering, helpless, I am hopeless, careless,” the anger and frustration flooding through. Jackson’s shrieks rip, feeling cathartic as the playing chugs and sprawls, and then calm dawns as the voices float. The guitars go off as the bass jolts, making the final moments compelling and powerful. “The Well” is the longest track, running 11:10 and starting in eerie waters, the harmonized voices chilling with guest vocalist Melynda Marie Amann entering the fray. “Finding no redemption, sentenced, say a prayer to no one, muted,” Jackson calls, haunting your blood as the power really kicks in. The playing combusts and mauls, dripping in psychedelic power, even calming for a stretch as Jackson mournfully wonders, “Will you be there when I die?” The doomy hammers drop anew, haunting and destroying, Jackson calling out, “Our well runs dry, Lord hear our cry.” “Torpid Dreamer” is punchy and aggressive as it opens its gates, a haze hanging over, Jackson and Solis blending seamlessly. Moody leads stretch as the leads circle, trudging power chugs, and everything ends in mesmerizing storming.

“Nadir” dawns amid a heavy mist, setting the stage for the heaviness to crumble and adds even more pressure. “I am sure there’s no heaven, to adore is my weapon, right now is all we have,” amplifies the emotion that bleeds from every pore. The melodies take off, the intensity spikes, and everything lathers and floods toward “The Crone.” That track moves in as the singing drips like water droplets from an icicle, and then sunburnt, wondrous playing envelops you, leading into vicious shrieks and growls. “Witch! Crone! Bitch! Diviner!” is howled as the fury rages like lava from the earth, Jackson vowing, “Retribution, fucking vengeance, I’ll return,” as the last blasts melt away. “Premonition” is the 9:28-long closer that starts hypnotically and immersive, leaning into heavy stabs and violent shrieks, disrupting any sense of sanity. “Precious gift, nothing left, husk of an empire, dormant,” rattles cages as the guitars lather and the melodies build. The moodiness increases in the final stretch, the darkness folds, and the playing drubs, ending in lush acoustics licking the final embers of a city burning down.

This is a triumphant return for Eight Bells and Jackson especially, coming back from a gruesome injury and watching her band fall apart around her, only to find the right pieces and deliver “Legacy of Ruin.” This feels like a band reborn, bubbling back up from the ashes to prove their might and resolve, combining forces from other sources to create a greater whole. This is a tremendous statement, one of the band’s strongest to date, and no one ever should doubt Eight Bells and the weaponry they possess.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/eightbells-legacy

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

I lose myself in music that immediately gives me visions of some far-off place or something that activates my imagination. It’s why anytime music transports me into the cosmos, I tend to gravitate toward it because I’ve never been to the stars and likely never will, so the musical experience is as close as I’ll get to alien terrain.

An Evening Redness’ self-titled debut album (the band name and themes are inspired by Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian) falls into this same category, though it’s not taking us anywhere beyond this earth. Instead, the music, a rich mix of drone, dusty Americana, and doom, transports the listener deep into the desert, playing with heat and isolation as well as colorful evening skies that breath new life into your lungs. Composed, arranged, and produced by Brandon Elkins, this six-track album also soothes with warm hallucinogens, bloody lands, and biblical terrors, and he’s joined by vocalist Bridget Bellavia (BLKTXXTH, Piggy Black Cross), guest soloist Brendan Sloan (Convulsing), and drummer Ryan Jewell to flesh out these creations. Bellavia’s vocals are especially haunting, and the music is impossible to shake as your dreams take you right into the driest part of the land where your mind tells you stories you didn’t know existed.

“Alkali” is the 12-minute opener that stretches its legs and expands as it basks in acoustics and electric hum, slide guitars make the dusk thicker and tastier, and the haze turns into drone. That elements picks up and double, sizzling in eerie whirring, dumping you harder into western terrain, making your stomach rumble, disintegrating into the cold distance. “Mesa Skyline” has keys swarming as Bellavia’s voice enters the fray, feeling both sultry, soulful, and calming. The guitars make your mind melt, bringing a spacey chill, adding a noiry country sheen and then basking in slurry atmosphere. “Winter, 1847” melts in and vibrates, delivering a cosmic swirl amid crackling fires and dramatic synth darts. Theatrical orchestration kicks in and creates some of the most unexpected moments of the entire record, and the returning slide guitar brings some redness to the sky, scorching flesh and delivering darkness.

“The Judge” runs 10:39 and dawns amid steely harmonica and rain pattering, the synth knifing in behind and creating imaginative psychedelic colors. The atmosphere thickens as majestic swirling picks up and increases the falling mists, and then the harmonica returns and calls from the distance. The desert vibe thickens even more, your ears begin to ring, and darkness lurks as the horizons turn orange and purple. “Pariah” brings more fire and precipitation as Bellavia returns and calls into the night, balmy temperatures working their way in and making flesh crawl. The vocals stretch as the keys glisten, the singing lures souls from other dimensions, and the playing ends at the heart of a fever dream. “Black Flame at the Edge of the Desert” ends the record with lush country ease and voices calling, jazzy guitar making the hair stand on your arms. Western vibes and the yawning night sky meet as acoustics add a gentle flourish, and then the agitation arrives. “No salvation!” Bellavia wails, the sounds combust, and everything collapses into an angelic wonder.

I’ve never been to a desert, but I feel like I have an idea of what to expect psychologically just from taking on An Evening Redness’ self-titled record. The music sinks into your mind and body, teasing you, testing you, asking for your full emotional commitment. Every component woven into this record is key to making this whole thing work, luring you into the trap to let the music have its way with your mind.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://transylvaniantapes.bandcamp.com/album/an-evening-redness

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