There were certain things I cannot watch on television while I’m eating because I have a pretty weak stomach when it comes to gross things. Like, I love slasher films, but no way can I enjoy a meal while experiencing one. Forget anything that involves surgery or seeing guts or human waste. Can’t handle it. Never could handle it.

I imagine if the tracks on “Ethereal Emanations from Chthonic Caries,” the new record from grind/death crushers Abraded, instead were presented visually, I would get nauseated quickly. Which is a compliment for this band, and I’m sure they’d take it that way. Carried over from grind legends Hemdale, of which guitarist Patric Pariano was a part, these nine tracks completely disgust and devastate, often sounding like a horror from another world. Rounded out by vocalist Mark Gallon, guitarist Evan Crouse, bassist Brad Moore, and drummer Jon Gonzalez, this record carves to the bone and lets blood pool beneath, leaving the coppery smell burning the inside of your nose.

“Ethereal Emanations” starts clubbing and pulverizing, a complete strangulation of horrors that spills over the entire package. Drums batter as the growls twist flesh, smoking carnage leading to a vicious finish. “Menticide” keeps the assault going, the vocals mangling as animalistic intent rampages, rapid-fire hell served by a machine gun. Heated howls linger as the humidity thickens, the pace coming more unglued as time lapses. “Uroboric Incest” has guitars carving before the pace gets thrashy, splattering as inhuman barks gnaw at your spine. The pace detonates as guttural growls dig for your guts, sickening before disappearing in noxious fumes. “Collectivized Enmeshment” lets guitars smear soot and unhinged growls maul, chugging as the intensity peaks. There is very little room for breathing here as the intensity ramps up dangerously, ending everything with a chokehold. 

“Compensatory Contrarianism” has riffs tingling before the beastliness opens its sinewy jaws, crazed howls making your psychotic state that much worse. Guitars heat and bend as metallic spurts burn, ending in deranged mania. “Theonemesis” brings immediate carnage, wild, malicious wails making matters more volatile, guitars menacing and hacking. Speed clobbers as ugliness leaves spatter on walls no one can hope to clean. “Mass Formation Psychosis” tortures as heated cries dig under nails, drums rampage and destroy, and the guitars lick their chops. I’m still on the drumming here as over the back end it is like a massacre, beating your head into a pulp. “Chthonic Caries” is punchy as growls choke, the tempderature wrecks bodies, and brutal riffs flex decaying muscle. The heat penetrates deeper, turning your organs into cooked meat, crushing unsuspecting souls. Closer “Theodicy” awakens and flattens, the bass coils, and comically crazed screaming makes you feel like you’re losing your mind. Dizzying, maniacal playing jacks up the madness even higher, gross hacking and spitting turning your stomach one final time.

Abraded, for sure, are not for the faint of heart, and “Ethereal Emanations from Chthonic Caries” is bound to make any mental scars only dig deeper. This is gross, furious death and grind meant to ruin your appetite, and it does that over and over again. Don’t say you weren’t warned going in, but if this is your thing, expect to be there a while bathing in stomach acid.

For more on the band, go here: https://abraded-official.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://redefiningdarkness.8merch.us/

Or here (Europe): https://redefiningdarkness.8merch.com/

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

As much as I love standing in the back corner of a dark club watching a black metal band flatten time, I still do like to catch more theatrical acts, even if that means going to a big shed to do so. Maiden, for example, spreading their fantastical glory always is something to see, and seeing a spectacle with great visuals can be just as devastating.

They’re not playing arenas quite yet, but Castle Rat belong in the category of bands that deserve to do their thing on a bigger stage, and perhaps their great second record “The Bestiary” will help get them there. If that’s even their ambition. No matter where they play, the band—vocalist/guitarist Riley Pinkerton (The Rat Queen), guitarist Franco Vittore (The Count), bassist Charley Ruddell (The Plague Doctor), drummer Josh Strmic (The Druid)—is sure to stun you with their chainmail, sword play, spat blood, and drama that does not just inhabits their songs. These 13 tracks that spill over 47 minutes explode with vintage metal electricity and charisma that is undeniable, with the story about mythical creatures that exist far from here, and The Wizard trying to preserve the souls that remain.

“Phoenix I” opens with a slurry synth blanket, whispers spreading as the guitars rise, twin leads chewing into dreams, slowly merging into “Wolf I” that explodes with powerful leads and vocals to match. The guitar work blazes as the drums thunder, the verses compelling, the chorus rushing, the energy pulsating. Burnt riffs encircle as the intensity spikes and fades. “Wizard” is dark before the riffs begin to swagger, the singing driving into heat and chugging power, the sleek organs making heads spin. The temperature turns cold as speaking chills, twin leads utterly rule, and the soloing floods the streets. “Siren” arrives amid rousing drums, more killer riffs, and the singing sweltering, guitars chugging before Pinkerton gruffs, “Ooh!” a la Tom Warrior. The pace takes off and thrashes harder, the attack bakes, and the singing rings in your ear. “Unicorns” starts ominously, the singing luring into a psychedelic fever dream, the aura bringing the heat and spindling. The playing is wonderfully mesmerizing in spots, the guitars ramp up more aggressively, and the final moments glisten on the grass. “Path of Moss” is a quick interlude, twin guitars swimming through tributaries, a classic metal feel chilling, the synth sitting in murmur. “Crystal Cave” feels folkish at the start, softer singing landing as the sentiment feels mind-bending. Power kicks in as the drama flourishes, a daring tempo makes blood jolt, and then strings rouse, giving off a classic New Age 1970’s atmosphere.

“Serpent starts with the drums galloping, fiery riffs causing impact, and Pinkerton’s voice making the fantasy vibe come to life. Keys melt as the guitars tangle, the chorus acting as a strong center point, bluesy soloing taking over and aggravating the flames. “Wolf II” starts with acoustics, the melody lines a subtler reflection of the first part of this song from earlier in the record. Blood streaking through wolves’ teeth makes the song feel more deadly and feral, the strings glazing. Clouds collect in a canopy, guitars chime, and the singing ripples as if moving between dimensions. “Dragon” has smoking guitars and a spirit that stomps through the room, the singing flexing its muscles as the humidity spills. The playing is energetic and catchy, dashing through the air, slowly tightening its grip on your neck. “Summoning Spell” basks in noise and more delicate singing, a castle fantasy playing out in front of you as Pinkerton’s voice interplays with the strings. The melodies drizzle and flutter, the bass thickening before everything turns to ashes. “Sun Song” pulls you in with Pinkerton’s voice, the playing buzzing and going grungy, the force gutting and chugging. The guitars electrify as the attitude catapults, the drums pummeling through wiry riffs, guitars scorching, the final smoldering moments slashing. Closer “Phoenix II” is a final, quiet coda, acoustics and mellotron numbing, hazy golden rays warming your flesh.

“The Bestiary” takes metal back to an era when fantasy and storytelling were at the forefront of the genre, back before there were subgenre distinctions. Castle Rat commit all the way, on stage and on record, and it’s impossible not to get completely swept up in the stories they’re telling. This is metal that remembers to be fun, approaches with a sword of fire, and takes you down with them, your heart pounding the entire time.  

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://kingvolume.8merch.us/

And here: https://castlerat.bandcamp.com/album/the-bestiary

Or here (Europe): https://bluesfuneralrecordings.bandcamp.com/album/the-bestiary

And here: https://kingvolume.8merch.com/

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

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

I just saw an interview the other day with John Oates, and when asked if he thought he’d ever reunite with Daryl Hall, he said he didn’t it would be a good idea because they could not recapture that magic. It made me thankful that so many of the metal pioneers are staying at it, putting out strong music, and continuing to dominate the stage.

Chicago metal legends Novembers Doom have been going at it for 36 years now, and good thing this institution has remained standing and strong, as evidenced by their 12^th album “Major Arcana.” Taking influence from tarot (the album title and some of the song titles should make that apparent) and divination, the band—vocalist Paul Kuhr, guitarists Larry Roberts and Vito Marchese, bassist Mike Feldman, drummer Garry Naples—delivers a powerful performance, mixing doom, goth rock, and death metal into 10 cuts that keep you fully engaged. Ben Johnson also provides keyboards on all tracks, and Kuhr’s daughter Rhiannon provides backing vocals on three tracks. This is a legendary band operating at the top of their game, and this album is a morbid force from front to back.

“June” is a frosty opener despite its title, piano dripping as cold singing laments damage caused by the month in question, leading to the title track that trudges with might. This piece has a lot going on, and it’s one you have to follow down several pathways. “How long have I been gone?” Kuhr wonders as the light and dark push and pull, bleeding through sorrow and pain, grim singing and growling pushing into the distance. “Ravenous” pummels, the howls gutting, the chorus mauling as Kuhr wails, “I will devour you and leave nothing to chance.” The battering continues as subtle organs lather, guitars unload, and the heat increases, nastiness sinking in its teeth as the final rampage settles. “Mercy” is more vulnerable, cold winds and clean singing sending chills, wrenching every ounce of your sympathetic nerves. “Please hold me until I’m gone,” Kuhr pleads, the guitars engulfing as moodiness spikes and strings glaze over a dramatic finish. “The Dance” has blurring keys and an autumnal blaze, gothy singing pouring molasses, Kuhr stating over the chorus, “It’s time to vanish without a trace.” The growl dig in, the playing stirring smoke and blackness which leaves a thick film.

“The Fool” is fiery, growls mauling, a deathly attack headed right for the guts as a lover’s betrayal hangs in the balance, Kuhr calling, “You gave it away.” The playing drubs as the guitars encircle, blistering with harsh intent, scorn flowing through veins. “Bleed Static” runs 8 minutes and is clean and rhythmic out front, creaky speaking gnawing on bone, Kuhr urging, “I won’t survive this, save me.” The playing is sorrowful and rich, clean guitars trickling before taking off, soloing melting metal. The vocals then wash in echo, the chorus pulls back and thickens the shadow, and defeat slowly merges with the blistering static. “Chatter” has guitars churning and gruff singing, the chorus leaving bruises both physically and mentally. “I’m so desperate, I believe all your lies,” Kuhr levels, the playing bashing heads together, the endless pain creating a like-minded ghost with which to commiserate. “Dusking Day” enters amid cold keys before detonating, getting grislier as the playing carries on, gothy singing paying more weight to the misery and neglect. A blazing push guides the blade between your ribs, the growls throttle, and the final blows blacken eyes. Closer “XXII” is wash in Armageddon, a dark, foreboding final chapter that walks into blurring guitars and sinister howls. “In the shadow of a dying star, echoes of the final sun,” Kuhr wails, guitars blazing, the mouth of eternity gaping, everything fading into ash.

“Major Arcana” is another heavy chapter in Novembers Doom’s more than three decades of metallic devastation, again proving their might and resolve in a physically and mentally battered world. There is no shortage of inspiration for these guys, and they seem as channeled and powerful as ever, with these 10 tracks standing as evidence. This band has nothing left to prove, which has been the case for a long time. But they don’t see it that way, and their art pushes boundaries and refuses to be anything but volcanic.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/NovembersDoom1989

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/novembersdoom-arcana

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

I would imagine having a large body of work that has some solid definition over a long period time can both be easy to continue and also hard to navigate. There are bands that never change their formula and have long, illustrious careers. There are probably as many that can’t sit still in one territory and always have to shift and change to stay happy.

Texas-based power Krigsgrav kind of fall in the middle of those two distinctions. Over seven records, they’ve kept black metal as a base but also have branched beyond that enough to keep everything fresh and vital. They never deliver a curveball that’s so outside the zone that it’s uncomfortable to manage. On their eighth album “Stormcaller,” they made a concerted effort to bring in elements from every era and record the band—vocalist/guitarist Justin Coleman, guitarist Cody Daniels, bassist Wes Radvansky, drummer/clean vocalist David Sikora—has unleashed, and over eight tracks and 52 minutes, they continue to smear their ethos in blood. The music is relentless and volcanic, but there are doomy pockets, stormy melodies, and harrowing cliffs that keep you fully engaged, even on subsequent listens. There’s always something compelling around the corner.

“Huntress of the Fire Moon” opens in a melodic gush, the playing hammering away as shrieks ravage, twin leads feeling like a guiding light in a downpour. The atmosphere gets cloudier before riffs again are twisting brains, fiery chaos rains down, and howls stab into a glorious end. The title track gusts and crushes, savagery at every corner, great leads commanding as howls smear into a vicious thrust. The intensity feels like staring a blast furnace in the face, clean lines slipping under the damage, crawling out into the rain. “Twilight Fell” is brutal and sorrowful, the riffs coating with blood as the growls menace. An airy burst fills your lungs as screams curdle and the pace pounds, elegant leads cascading as everything slowly fades. “None Shall Remember Your Name” runs 7:32 with the bass leading in, chugging, spacious playing opening up the space, and then twin leads blazing, aiming to gut you. Clean singing numbs before Coleman’s barks belt, the playing taking on a more technical feel, but in a way where you can feel a heart beating. Acoustics give brief respite before the force returns, blistering with hazy guitars, speaking mesmerizing, and beastly howls leaving you buried. 

“Bay of the Barghest” is murky to start before the thorns scrape, slashing through melodic pathways, the clean singing and charred screams turning into ideal partners. Guitars beam as the tempo grows faster and pretty catchy, bursting as speed and storms unite, blazing before finally subsiding. “The Tonic of Wilderness” stirs with relentless power, howls menacing, and a strong charge getting your blood flowing as the misery tightens its grip. Beastly growls incinerate as the leads activate, cleaner calls drain ash, and an animalistic force runs the back end into a brick wall. “Ghosts” has guitars dripping and stretching, shrieks overwhelming, and then the pace hitting a sprint, melting into a sea of melody. Leads jar as the energy spits, howls storm, and leads slice tributaries into flesh. Closer “Womb:Death:Dawn” runs 8:33 and hangs in the air after dawning, a doomier approach pushing this into darkness, solemn heaviness flooding as the emotion floods. The drums kick up as the playing gets sludgier, keys and static unite and poke eardrums, and then the guitars rule with an acidic assault. The leads envelop and chug as dreariness sets in, a final thrashing destroying and fading into mystery.

“Stormcaller” is an effort to unite every era of Krigsgrav and send them into a fiery future, and it pretty much succeeds at every turn. It’s heavy, unforgiving, melodic, morose, and apocalyptic, the perfect album for times that hang in the balance. Nothing is certain other than Krigsgrav always will push their art to the limit and demand you take the ride with them. It’ll be a rocky, violent journey, and you’ll come out of the other side galvanized.

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

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

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

There’s a lot of noise going on outside, plenty to disrupt your well-being, especially mentally. Even doing something as simple of checking your social media account or trying to decipher what’s being reported on the news can be too much, and I definitely understand how unhealthy that can be.

So, there’s little to quell our worries outside our doors, so perhaps turning inward to address that chaos and pain can begin to help a little bit. German black metal power Der Weg Einer Freiheit focus on those matters on their incredible new record “Innern,” which is German for “inward.” Here, the band—vocalist/guitarist Nikita Kamprad, guitarist Nicolas Rausch, bassist Alan Noruspur, drummer Tobias Schuler—turns their gears toward taking on what’s going on inside, trying to quiet the madness, and finding reflection and renewal. They do address the matters in our society that grind us to a pulp, but with a compassionate hand, tempering all of that with some of the most imaginative and immersive music of their entire careers.

Marter” is the 9:24-long opener and begins in a haze before ramping up, the drums bustling, howls tearing as a melodic fury engulfs everything. We then go from atmospheric right to the acidic belly of the beast, the pace shifting as guitars surge, the emotion calming for a brief respite as doom gusts into the picture. The playing hammers again, the energy rushes as growls gut, and the final moments slowly batter away. “Xibalba” is even longer at 10:07, a savage, daring attack overwhelming, growls marring as the storm grows blacker and hungrier. Even amid the chaos, there are fantastical elements that feel not of this world that join up with an increasingly boiling pace that eventually gives way to a synth sheen. Things feel equally trudging and dreamy as the guitars jar to a close. “Eos” is a real centerpiece gem, a song that starts off feeling progressive and wondrous, a hulking riff moving in and making the song its own, sticking in your brain. Vocals buzz as the playing mangles, beastly blistering leaving festering wounds, melodies swirling as clean singing arrives, increasing the drama and fading in calculated manner.

“Fragment” wooshes in and brings more delicate strains, cleaner singing swirling in the surrounding air, the fires eventually erupting and aiming to consume. Screams pierce and stretch as the playing journeys through the cosmos, destroying and dismantling worlds, bleeding right into instrumental cut “Finisterre III.” This is a continuation of a piece that was introduced two albums ago, the second installment of which appeared on their last record. This brings dripping piano and gathering mists, fog and elegance, and a gentle closing that sets the stage for closer “Forlorn.” Plucked guitars sting before eeriness spreads generously, clean singing bringing a pillowy nature, softer bass plodding as things feel oddly New Wave to a degree. Guitars then scuff as shrieks hammer, colorful playing heads into a pit of moodiness, and the calls of, “Please don’t let me go,” add to the introspection. The pressure builds and melts, warm synth floods, and alien swirl dissolves in air.

“Innern” offers a chance to escape with this music and take time for self-reflection and evaluation amid all of the upheaval surrounding us. We are not immune to that pressure, and Der Weg Einer Freiheit are fully aware, with their storminess and power continually exposing those truths and taking an inventory of oneself. While brutal and metallic, it also is a human record, one with compassion and awareness that flows through its every pore. 

For more on the band, go here: https://derwegeinerfreiheit.de/

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://shopusa.season-of-mist.com/list/der-weg-einer-freiheit-innern

Or here (international): https://shop.season-of-mist.com/list/der-weg-einer-freiheit-innern

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

I’ve been thinking about eternal damnation a lot lately, not that I’m worried about the concept; I’m amused at how many people who claim to be “of god” will end up there if it’s real. Like, a comical amount. Wondering where we might go from here if there is something beyond this plane can keep people awake at night, and we have no idea what’s there.

Ridiculously prolific black metal confounders Esoctrilihum take you on some demented trip elsewhere with every record, and on, “Ghostigmatah – Spiritual Rites of the Psychopomp Abxulöm,” sole creator Asthâghul’s latest under this banner, we enter the afterlife. According to the bio, “The album is divided into four chapters, each of which tells a ritual stage in the long journey of dead souls towards the jaws of the 8-eyed psychopomp Abxulöm, who will finally deliver them to eternal nothingness.” I hate a cut-and-paste job as much as the next guy, but how can I possibly summarize that in my own words? Anyway, Asthâghul continues his mesmerizing black metal path and adds more sounds including theremin, harp, kantele, and hammered dulcimer, deepening the mythology and what’s possible with your imagination.

“Hark! The Bewitched Trumpet of the Red Harbinger Is Calling the Dead to Gather” blasts open with delirium, synth bathing with strangeness as throaty wails pummel, a weird fantasy feel floating through the keys. The tempo strengthens its grip as the screams get more shrill, the playing going cold, clean, gothy singing stirring incantations. The chants chill as fevered stomps rattle, bizarre emanations floating into space. “Kneeling Before the Keeper of the Golden Key to the Absolute Void” ruptures, organs raining down, the howls warping as darkened thrash shakes bones loose. The hypnosis digs in deeper alongside more orchestral elements, a synth sheet darting ahead, sounds shooting through shadows as gnarly growls bring violent change. The playing gets catchier as the keys send horrors, eerie singing leading into a dramatic finish. “At The Mercy of the Flaming Spear of the Bestial Hierophant” smashes and churns as the riffs spiral and the keys smear. The mood is dizzying as hearty cries and clean singing unite, blurring and disorienting, tornadic chaos blasting into rubbery bass. “Flesh Pierced by the Blades of Thritônh, Eyes Devoured by Vulth Suidarl, the Giant Fly,” is metallic and leaves that taste in your mouth, the strings glowing as hypnosis encircles, shrieks belting as the atmosphere demands total immersion. The playing ramps up as crazed growls punish, and dizzying sludge makes the footing impossible, melting into madness. “Hypnotic Danse Macabre of the Blind Noctivagants” opens with acoustics dashing, the growls gnawing as hammered dulcimer sets an ancient tone. Growls echo as the guitars chug harder, strange clean singing haunting, the strings penetrating, the tempo crushing faces.

“Orgiastic Sacrificial Mass to Conjur Abxulöm, Psychopomp Supreme” is sinister and heavy, the growls crawling down your back, vicious sentiment working alongside alien pastoral chants. Sounds swarm as the growls rake nails down cosmic chalkboards, all elements entering a stormfront, the singing warbling as the door closes. “Saturnal Towers of the Mighty Scarlet Moon Upon the Black Universe” is numbing as the symphonic strains increase bodily temperatures, mangling cries punching holes in your psyche. All of the strings cause hellish drama, the attack getting sinister, tearing open a hole from another dimension for unknown horrors to enter ours. “The Cosmic Deathbringer Comes, Riding a Bloody Horse of Goshenite” drills into your brain, ugly, hellish vocals pouring previously unseen colors into a growing nightmare. The playing trudges and smashes, the growls breathing fire and leaving psychological wounds behind, a thrashy assault bleeding into a grisly ending. “Mauled, Swallowed and Dissolved Into Nothingness By the 8-Eyed Psychopomp” is melodic as hell out of the gates, with higher calls making nerve endings activate, and theremin pressing a ghostly presence into the creation. Growls encircle as phantasms vibrate, layers of frost accumulating and making your body shake uncontrollably, the guitars jolting. The leads scuff as the heat singes, tortured cries ringing in your ears, the exhaust lifting and letting light into the room. Closer “Supplication of the Veiled Saint From the Secret Book of the Ghostigmatah Rites” starts with strings glistening and whispers darting through the air, settling into a dream state. The delicacy slowly erodes as savage howls join the fray, sounds jangling, the ferocity disappearing into an acidic sun.

Every Esoctrilihum record is an experience that demands time and effort on your part, and “Ghostigmatah – Spiritual Rites of the Psychopomp Abxulöm” provides plenty of material for your undivided attention. This is a fully immersive experience, one that can damage and salt wounds at times, but taking this on as a whole provides a much more immersive mission than if you break it into chunks. Asthâghul’s ambitions know no bounds, and he’s willing to push you to the limit and beyond to connect with his ritualistic vision.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://metalodyssey.8merch.us/

Or here (Europe): https://metalodyssey.8merch.com/record-label/i-voidhanger-records/

For more on the label, go here: https://i-voidhangerrecords.bandcamp.com/

It feels like utter hell here in the United States, what with fascism and the constant barrage of bullshit, but there are hellscapes where parts of the world are being torn apart, and survival from one day to the next hardly is guaranteed. Imagine trying to create something meaningful and impactful when bombs are falling all around you.

Ukrainian metal force Heruvim are in the middle of a warzone, and the idea they could put together a full-length record under those circumstances is perverse. Yet we have “Mercator,” the band’s first full-length album, a seven-track, 30-minute bruiser that breathes chaotic life into death metal. The band—vocalist/guitarist Nefarious, guitarist Kick Flis, bassist Hot Rod—had to create this album as their country is at war. They risked conscription, fighting, and death, crossing borders to make this happen. You’d think this would sound frenzied and punishing, and it does, but it also bursts with energy and life as if they’re determined to survive no matter what hell they experience.

“Mysterium Tremendum” starts with guitars crushing, twisting at muscle, sooty, snaking riffs going in and out of pools of blood. The carnage takes a break to turn mystifying, letting you breathe before the powder keg erupts, guitars swim through humidity, and the growls wrench your neck. “Nulla Res” delivers spidery leads, a confounding pathway forward, howls that tear at the flesh, and a pace that jerks you around and into walls. The playing thrashes even harder, upping the ante, bludgeoning with relentless ferocity. “Gnosis” brings the guitars to a boil, decimating as the vocals ravage, chaotic damage being served in generous portions. The playing leans into atmospheric heat as the leads gains some warmth, and everything turns to dust.

“Arammu” has a more techy open that aims to melt brains, and the guitars begin their exploration, howls carving passageways as the torment gets thicker. A strange psychedelic cloud hangs overhead as growls retch, rubbery guitar work punishes, and the final strains bleed into brief interlude “VII.” This feels like a strange isolation in an alien world, a robotic voice repeating Gorgias’ tenets about existence and knowledge. The title track bludgeons, wrecking and dizzying, the howls smashing as the pace grows more volatile. Blood rushes as the bass trudges, synth bristling, the heat spiking and fading. Closer “Lacrimae Rerum” has guitars cascading, growls swelling, and fast-strike leads taking over your imagination. The tempo chunks as the guitars add more excitement, howls darken, and things gradually fade into an increasingly uncertain darkness.

The ravages of war and the uncertainty of survival certainly inform “Mercator,” even if the lyrical content heads into more imaginative and psychologically stimulating territory. Heruvim put their lives on the line to make this record, which cannot be overstated, and the result is a strong, steady debut full-length that also leaves room to grow. Hopefully matters grow less volatile in their homeland (we’re not holding our breath, but we can hope) and that this can be a building block to a future that’s violent only from a metallic standpoint. 

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://redefiningdarkness.8merch.us/

Or here (Europe): https://redefiningdarkness.8merch.com/

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

There are those bands that once you indulge in their music, the way your brain processes that particular art form changes a little bit. Somehow, my TikTok algorithm led me to Faetooth, a Los Angeles-based doom power that creates heavy, yet enchanting songs, stuff that crawls into your imagination and helps you see new colors. I hear things differently since being introduced to them.

“Labyrinthine” is the band’s second record and first for The Flenser, and it’s a 10-track, 55-minute excursion that picks up where 2002’s “Remnants of the Vessel” (our No. 6 album that year) leaves off and then goes into new terrain. Thematically, the band—bassist/vocalist Jenna Garcia, guitarist/vocalist Ari May, drummer Rah Kanan—takes on inner turmoil, personal wounds, and loss, among others, with their heaviness intertwining breath-takingly with softer tones and psychedelic flourishes. This album is one that may take a few visits to truly set in, which was the case for their debut, but it’s easy to instantly be spellbound by the music. Digging deeper reveals richer meaning.

“Iron Gate” bathes in feedback, solemnity and clean singing bubbling, and then the power punches in, adding to the thicker haze. The singing lures while the growls scrape passages beneath, and then voices harmonize. Hypnosis mixes as the energy burns off into the horizon. “Death of Day” has the bass sliding and the guitars trudging, dreamy singing icing over wounds. The crunch arrives in the form of blistering riffs and feral growls before the calmer verses help alleviate the burn. The playing gets burly again, riffs tangling, shrieks wrenching as the spirit spirals away. “It Washes Over” has a clean start before buzzing, and then the singing floats, easing into an increasingly darker doom cauldron. Guitars heat and spread as the growls menace, desperation rumbling as everything fades. “Hole” is slower and crawls through thickening fog, then the power guts, and the singing swells, making blood rush. The shrieks bruise as the mesmerizing pace blossoms, churning through chaos to the edge of a storm. “White Noise” is muddy at first before cleaner guitars and tingling singing activate emotions, then screams belt, letting lava gust before the temps drop again. The battle between light and dark engulfs as howls rip, hypnotic dirges spread misery, and everything simmers into silence.

“Eviserate” bleeds clean, soft singing pulling you down pathways, and then the screams ravage, desperation and anguish playing tug of war. Viciousness rears its head and flattens bones, emotional singing makes your heart ache, and smoke encapsulates all. “October” is ceremonial and chilly before guitars blaze and churn, a strong chorus pumping blood from a pierced heart. Guitars buzz as the pain permeates the senses, the power surges, and the cosmos swallows everything whole. “Mater Dolorosa” digs in, the singing feeling like a dreamscape, the playing buckling while swimming through tar. The pace slowly batters as howls punish, the aura turns moodier, and guitars leave a stinging sensation. “The Well” is a brief instrumental built with slow-driving force, guitars that add a deep freeze, and an essence that hangs in the clouds. Closer “Meet Your Maker” is the longest track at 8:28, and it dissolves into blood, the singing mesmerizing before the fires blast, sweeping with strange speaking and increasingly harrowing shadows. The pace chugs more as the guitars char, igniting a gazey heatwave that builds and scalds as the last moments draw near, ending everything in an immersive dream. 

“Labyrinthine” is Faetooth at their most vulnerable, at least to this point, and their ethereal brand of doom remains the type that works best when absorbed in dark silence, with only you and the music there to connect. It was clear from when this band first arrived that they had something special to add to the doom kingdom, and theirs is more personal, introspective, and also thunderous. This is a band that deserves your attention now and moving forward, because chances are this journey has only begun, and the twists and turns from here cannot be predicted. Only experienced. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://nowflensing.com/collections/faetooth

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

Death metal doesn’t have to just be about gore and horrors, guts and coffins. I mean, it’s pretty fun when it’s that way, but the subgenre has gone well past the graveyards and deep into space and elsewhere, so the boundary pushing is what’s keeping it exciting. The good stuff can be almost trancelike, letting your consciousness go elsewhere.

Pittsburgh death horde Ritual Mass have the brutality down to a science, but their aspirations lie beyond that, which they prove on their mesmerizing debut full-length “Cascading Misery.” Not that their ambition is something new, as anyone who has seen them live or indulged in their 2019 EP “Abhorred in the Eyes of God” can attest. It’s that creating these six cuts obviously unlocked something morbidly adventurous in the band—vocalist/bassist/synth player N. Dudash, guitarist/backing vocalist P. Trona, guitarist R. Mauck, drummer G. Austin. These 41 minutes are horrifying for sure but also challenge the listener to find things inside of them that are more unsettling and not of this world.

“Obsidian Mirror” starts with synth beams that feel like they’re invading from another realm, and then the leads stir and the vocals scar, driving a wedge between realities. A furious pace erupts that amplifies the brutality, the pace eventually slowing some before a smearing, blurring finish. “Immeasurable Hell” has guitars snarling and blazing, howls menacing, and smoke rising dangerously. The pace jars before hypnotic leads bleed under the door, the chugging feeling causing bones to ache before everything ends in psychedelic torture. “Looming Shapeless Entity” begins with a steamrolling tempo, the guitars boiling and disorienting, vicious howls blending in with the uncomfortably humid air. Leads moan as the growls retch, the heat becoming insurmountable as you struggle for fresh air.

The title track attacks, raw growls digging under fingernails, gargantuan riffs flexing and making things uncomfortable. As the track goes on, the leads insert the knife and twist, devastating as the chugging pace pummels, and a relentless low end suffocates. “Frozen Marrow,” which is a nice treat on a warm day, is mucky as hell, guitars mangling, the speed hulking as the bass chews. It’s a smashing machine aiming for any healthy limb you have left, guitars marring as a synth cloud envelopes and poisons. Closer “Disquiet” runs 14:32, and it starts in doomy waters, disorienting and landing relentless blows, the roars crushing as the playing turns maniacal. Guitars steam as the mid-section plays tricks with your mind, going clean, dreamy, and a bit surreal. The beast slowly emerges from the darkness and tears into you, the roars rampage, and a pit of corrosion disintegrates bones and leaves a sticky mess behind.

“Cascading Misery” is a record that’s plenty brutal, but Ritual Mass’ goal doesn’t appear to just be creating horrific music for times that match. This is immersive, psychological, and pathological, a record that works as hard on your mind as it does your ears. As a true coming-out party for this band, this album could not be more intense and unforgiving, allowing almost no time to prepare or take a meaningful breath. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.20buckspin.com/ritualmass

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

If you’re feeling frustrated every time you open your eyes each morning, well, get in fucking line because it’s long and you’re going to be there a while. It’s a particularly aggravating time to be alive, the past eight months a real low point, and being able to just torch something to release that pent-up anger can be a productive outlet.

Motherless sure as shit sounds like an outlet to get things out of their systems. The band—vocalist/guitarist Stavros Giannopoulos, guitarist/vocalist Anthony Cwan, bassist Alex Klein, drummer Gary Naples—pours vitriol and fire into “Do You Feel Safe?” their destructive debut full-length album. Over eight tracks and almost 34 minutes, this sludgy, driving madness grows to a boil quickly and stays spewing chaos the entire goddamn time. This group comprised of members of the Atlas Moth, Novembers Doom, and Without Waves, and they collect their might and punish like there’s no tomorrow.

“Reptile Dysfunction” is a sludgy beast that blasts out of the gates, acidic howls punishing as the bass trudges. The intensity builds from there, threatening and pouring fuel on an already raging fire. “Abrupt Violence” keeps the attack alive, the playing scarring as the intensity remains on high. “I’ve lost my confidence in man, strike down false prophets where they stand,” Giannopoulos wails, the guitars bleeding metallic blood, a pulverizing fury leaving bodies heaving. “You Seem So Damn Sure” fires up, bass chugging, a smoldering D beat barrage taking you down for raw fists to the face. Screams peel rust from metal, a stirring, blurring attack adding to your disorientation, a clip from Jake “the Snake” Roberts from Wrestlemania VI adding to your wounds. “Darling, You Don’t Look Well” starts eerily before guitars start to churn and stretch, a thick haziness hanging overhead. Lead then scuff and leave patches of sunburn, a trucking, thrashy assault barreling full speed ahead before it corrodes.

“Weaponized Goodwill” hammers the gas pedal, the howls kill, and a melodic swath adds some soothing to your blisters. The playing then clubs harder, wails retch, and everything boils to an oddly atmospheric end. “Christian Math” belts you in the face, barked wails making a blunt impression, Giannopoulos howling, “Go set it on fire, for your survival, a new hell awaits, but it won’t suppress my strength.” Parts of this are oddly approachable while others pull you into the frenzy, stomping through mud before a blurry finish. “Insect Politics” squeezes veins, throaty howls gutting, a vicious and scathing campaign designed to lop off heads. Guitars angle into rubbery, confounding terrain, mean snarling smothering ash in mouths. Closer “The New Romance” starts off feeling like a more aggressive At the Drive In track at first blush, but then it leans into raw force and energy, the drums blasting holes in your chest. Things grow rowdier as fiery soloing launches, Giannopoulos barking, “I’ll be swinging all the way down until I’m 6 feet underground.”

“Do You Feel Safe?” is a motherfucker of a record, a ravaging, bloodthirsty trip through personal and societal turmoil that plague us all. Motherless found an outlet for themselves to release that frustration, and perhaps spending time with these eight songs can do the same for you. There’s no glamor here, no gimmicks, just a burst of metallic power that refuses to adhere to musical boundaries and beats the fucking shit out of you. 

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

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

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