As much as I have grown to appreciate summer, this stretch of year when autumn is right over the horizon is my favorite time. It won’t be long until cold rains fall, fogs rise in the morning, the bones are chilled inside damp clothing, and darker music becomes even more welcoming. I’m getting a little excited in the stomach just thinking about it.

A month or so ago, I dug into “Don’t Believe, Watch Out,” the immersive debut record from French trio Pencey Sloe. Right away I dreamt of colder winds and decaying leaves, even though I was a couple months from it, and now that we’re closer than ever, this music feels like it’s tightening its dark embrace. The band’s doomy shoegaze mixes elements of groups such as The xx, Daughter, True Widow, and even countrymates Alcest. The music operates in the shadows and sneaks up on you, with the choruses to their songs tackling you from behind and making your heart race. The band—guitarist, singer, main composer Diane Pellotieri, lead guitarist Valentin Beaucourt, drummer Clément Aulnois—aren’t metallic heavy from a volume standpoint, but they’re mighty from an emotional pull and easily made a disciple out of me with my first listen. I’ve lost count how many times I’ve been back.

“Lust of the Dead” starts the record in murk, with Pellotieri’s voice floating, and don’t be surprised if you’re immediately arrested by her singing. “Can’t find the answer, did they ever live? Can’t find the answer, don’t you see?” she calls before a great chorus that rouses, and the track ends with your head in the clouds. “Buried Them All” is rugged and doomy as it starts, as the verses tread steady waters, and the choruses wash you with mist. The pace later swaggers a bit before sweeping into dreamy clouds and churning into the air. “All OK” bleeds in before the tempo kicks up and a gazey thunder rumbles. Like most of the songs on here, the chorus is tremendous with Pellotieri calling, “It’s all right, it’s all OK, and now you stay for me, I’m falling for you.” The track gives off a chilly ambiance as guitars caterwaul, and the volume stings on its way out. The title track is ominous and ghostly when it first appears, swelling and gaining storm clouds as lush singing pushes its way ahead. The bends are softer and emotional before the intensity picks up for a bit, while the song has a gentle landing. “Gold and Souls” has the drums driving and the gloom thickening, while the singing is alluring as always, with Pellotieri wailing over the chorus, “I’m on my knees, on my broken bones, I’m on my knees, and it kills my soul.” Later on, the song gets smokier as the strong chorus returns and powers to the end.

“Sins” has the guitars arriving in a mucky cloud as a cold wave emerges, voices echo, and the chorus swells with power. The band buries dreams in the words and music as things surge, suffocate, and create an elegant, frosty finish. “Empty Mind” is the longest track at 6:52, and space debris flies into the skies, while a strange ambiance is created. The bulk of the pace stays within the same headspace, which allows you to lock in and float with them, and then the sounds explode before the lava cracks through the surface. This continues to gather heat and power before the song breathes its last. “It Follows” is an introspective track built by acoustic flourishes and static-filled loops, while the singing is pulled back and more delicate. The song keeps hovering overhead, darkening the ground and spreading the sadness. “Bright Water” has a mellow character, easily breaking open and plodding along before gazey fires are stoked and rage. The chorus is pulverizing, with Pellotieri wailing, “Cause you fight with the water, till the light, and you shine by the fire, you’re drowning your lies,” as guitars pick up and simmer in a sound bath. “17 Springs” closes the record by starting delicately and echoing in the air before it slowly comes to life. Pellotieri sings of longing, especially on the chorus where she calls, “On the edge of the world, I’ll be thinking about us, on the edge of the reason, I’ll be thinking, thinking about us.” The song trickles and shows vulnerability, as the cut tracks back to the chorus again, letting hearts pump blood before it tapers off into the horizon.

Pencey Sloe are arriving at a perfect time when temperatures are about the drop, and cold mists will envelop us all here in the States. Their debut full-length “Don’t Believe, Watch Out” is mesmerizing and chilling, a record that works its way into your bloodstream and refuses to leave until you are fully infected. That partially explains the shivers you’re bound to experience listening to this great record, with the band’s haunting presence making up the second half of that sensation.

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

To  buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://us.prophecy.de/prophecy-prophecy-1/pencey-sloe-don-t-believe-watch-out.html

Or here (International): https://en.prophecy.de/prophecy/pencey-sloe-don-t-believe-watch-out.html

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

Summer’s dying, the leaves will change in two months once it cools off, and there’s an ominous vibe in the air, which must mean it’s time for the annual, mighty Descendants of Crom. But things were not without worry just a few days ago.

Last weekend, A.S.G., one of the main bands set for the third edition of Descendants of Crom, had to drop off the festival with about seven days’ notice. Things happen, right? But that’s a terrible hole to be in with a week to spare, but yet the dark gods moved heaven and earth, and an even more massive band stepped in to take their place.

Yeah, in A.S.G.’s place? Goddamn doom legends The Obsessed who, no offense on the group they’re replacing, actually made the entire weekend even more massive. That’s like replacing a reliable player on a sports team with one of the best players ever. Perhaps fest organizer Shy Kennedy has a little bit of goodwill with those aforementioned deities to pull that one off, but she’s also been bringing killer bands to town for years now, even when she’s not hosting DoC. This year, the fest shifts a bit as it starts with the pre-show gala tonight (it usually kicks off on Thursday), with two full days at Cattivo Saturday and Sunday. I’ve said this before, but this is one of the most fun, well organized, arms-open events you’re bound to find in heavy music, and even if you don’t know some of the bands, chances are you’ll find something you really like (like I’ve done with Horseburner and Doctor Smoke) the past couple years. Below is the lineup for the event. There literally is something for every heavy music fan, as well as the debut of the fest’s official beer, Doom or Death whipped up by North Country Brewing.

Friday, 8 p.m., Howler’s

Motometer (8:15): Pittsburgh-based proggy adventurers.

Fox 45 (8:55): Grimy, punchy psyche metal that’ll level you.

Void King (9:40): Foggy, stoner doom rock n roll.

Submachine (10:25): Legendary Pittsburgh-based hardcore punk band.

Enhailer (11:10): Akron-based doom tanglers.

Icarus Witch (12:05): Pittsburgh long-running epic metal band that just put out their best records “Goodbye, Cruel World.”

Saturday, 4 p.m., Cattivo

Old Dream (4:00): Experimental project that’s half written, half improvised, always inventive.

Coma (4:25): Pittsburgh stoner doom trio.

Action Camp (4:55): Pittsburgh-based trio combining doom, art rock, and post-punk.

Night Vapor (5:25): Pittsburgh noise rock that’ll fuck up your whole day.

Pillars (6:00): Sludgy, thrashy maulers from Cleveland.

Tines (6:35): Heavy progressive rock band from Buffalo.

Witchkiss (7:10): New York-based sludge doom trio.

Potslammer (7:45): Indiana doom trio that occasionally sings about the marijuana.

Sun Voyager (8:20): Psychedelic desert doom conjured in New York.

Kingsnake (8:55): Philly-based rockers that feed from rock’s and doom’s roots.

Foghound (9:30): Baltimore stoner pounders.

Argus (10:05): Pennsylvania-based epic doom metal band. Glorious shit.

Irata (10:45): Loud stoner bashers from Greensboro, N.C.

Valkyrie (11:25): Heavy doom superpower featuring former members of Baroness and Earthling.

The Obsessed (12:10): Doom legends featuring Wino Weinrich that reunited in 2016 for comeback record “Sacred.”

Sunday, 4 p.m., Cattivo

White Alice (4:00): Bizarre drone instrumental solo project from a pretty OK guy.

Riparian (4:25): Pittsburgh death metal warriors whose debut came out on Grimoire Records.

Pale Grey Lore (4:55): Columbus psyche doom metal adventurers.

Killer of Sheep (5:25): Pittsburgh hardcore punishers who will leave you bruised.

Lightning Born (6:00): Throwback doom conjurers containing members of C.O.C and Hour of 13.

Spacelord (6:35): Buffalo-based stoner rock.

Leather Lung (7:10): Boston-bred stoner metal cult.

Frayle (7:45): Heavy, rumbling, mysterious doom machine powered by Gwyn Strang’s vocals.

Brimstone Coven (8:20): Classic hard rock revivalists from Wheeling, W,V.

Backwoods Payback (9:05): Pennsylvania-based stoner doo trio with legitimately spooky name.

Solace (9:50): Long-tenured Jersey stoner doom band.

Brown Angel (10:35): Pittsburgh’s hallowed doom drone harsh noise warriors. Bask in their greatness.

For more on the festival, go here: https://www.facebook.com/DescendantsOfCrom

To buy tickets, go here: http://www.descendantsofcrom.com/Tickets.php

It’s hard to argue against the idea that we’re living in the worst possible timeline of our decaying existences. I’m sure things probably have been worse, but when? Leadership is a joke, the government is operating against our will right in front of our faces, and if you believe people who devote their lives to science, this earth may not have that much time left before we’re swallowed whole.

There’s not a lot to feel good about, and Nightfell’s bludgeoning third record “A Sanity Deranged” only too gleefully hammers home that point. This unholy union of guitarist/vocalist Todd Burdette (His Hero Is Gone, Tragedy) and drummer Tim Call (Mournful Congregation, Sempiternal Dusk) created a soundtrack morbidly tailored for modern life and the bullshit constantly choking it. That they treat these times with generous helpings of black metal, death metal, and sooty doom only proves just how plugged in these guys are to the outright horrifying realities of being alive and paying a modicum of attention. All of that is grim, but it also helps to have music like this right now, when you need something to tap into your eroded emotions and constant frustration. Will you feel better afterward? I don’t know. Sometimes a release is good, and the music on this mangler definitely will relate to your own blackness.

“No Life Leaves Here” begins with eerie noises poking through before a bludgeoning rises with heavy riffs and growls decimating. Massive wails pound through, marring your brain, leading to the fires building before being cutting off by solo drumming pounding. Beastly thrashing comes out of that as a mean pace poisons and drags you to the end. “(As Now) We Must Succumb” has doomy riffs bathing in a  noise haze with the growls smearing and the playing leveling buildings. Black metal-style leads rampage before things cool down a bit, as a rush of keys brings spacey soothing. Humidity hangs thick before melodic gushing erupts, followed by vicious roars and a movement into the shadows. The vocals get raspy, promising sore throats, while the tempo delivers a final assault that jams a dagger at the end of this killer track. “To The Flame” is slow driving and caked with muck, as cavernous growls and face-splitting playing let the blood spatter. The price is paid in emotional hell as dark shadows haunt, the roars leave gaping wounds, and the track ends in a dank smothering of synth.

“The Swallowing Of Flies” starts with slow-mauling doom pummeling, as the growls slither along the ground, leaving behind a film, and everything is coated by thick ash. Infernal soot continues to gather as the band burns down walls, hulking back to the main riff that greeted us in hell. Molten grinding chews at the nerves while beastly chanting moves the ground, rounding toward a conclusion that leaves bodies crushed in its wake.  “(Holiness Digested)” is a quick instrumental that sounds like it emanates from a furnace, where sweat and blood coat the floors, whispered chants poke, and everything blends into closer “Sanity Deranged.” The track gets started by boiling slowly before it gets on its legs and lurches across the land. Sorrowful leads cast a pall before melody floods into the scene, and the roaring devastates. The music finds its way toward a stormy deluge where it unloads its nastiest moments, as total demolition is the goal, and the growls hammer away. The leads continue to rain down, creating a miserable mudslide that ravages everything in front of it and creates a mass of unmarked graves.

Everything is awful, and there is no good reason to wake up each morning with a swell of hope in your chest. Sorry. But Nightfell realize this, and the horrifying punishment they deliver on “A Sanity Deranged” proves just as scowling and bloodthirsty as the people ruining out very existences. This is music for the end times, a companion for us as we search blindly in the darkness for a glimmer of hope that is very much deceased.

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

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

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

Every now and again, I have these dreams where there’s really nothing happening, no set events unraveling, and everything is swept up in a sort of fog. The dreams tend to be a little longer than usual, as I travel into the void, not even sure if my body is going with me as fascination and adventure take over, and I let my brain do the driving.

Those dreams immediately came to mind the first time I heard “Mænad,” the debut record from Swiss trio E-L-R. Their songs are more soundscapes than anything, as they conjure smoke and illusions as their music washes its way over you. The six tracks here, only one clocking in at less than six minutes, are vessels for your exploration. This weekend, I was driving home late at night on the highway, and I turned to this record because I needed something to keep me stimulated but I didn’t want to be bludgeoned necessarily. Not that there aren’t heavy moments here, because there are plenty, but that’s not the entire point of this album. The band—bassist/vocalist I.R., guitarist/vocalist S.M., drummer M.K.—weaves in their interpretation of artistic works as well as their own emotions and everyday happenings in their lives, which makes this record a pretty diverse collection of senses. The vocals themselves are buried beneath the waters, so they don’t make themselves terribly apparent, but they’re just here to play a certain role in the DNA of these compositions.

“Glancing Limbs” starts as sounds drone and build, footsteps crunch, and the music operates within a mist that coats your face. Drums start to drive as the guitars rain down, with silver streaks of doom swimming through, letting clean calls flicker through the environment. The track then hammers away as calls drive over the pounding pace, letting gazey gloom drizzle over the finish. “Devotee” is gloomy when it opens before the playing starts striking, sanding the surface as ghostly vocals echo. A power surge arrives and pushes through while melodic vocals entangle with bubbling guitars that threaten safety. That works into a calm storm, as rain falls down while fires crackle. “Above The Mountains There Is Light” starts with noises reverberating as the guitars open up, and the basin begins to flood. The track lurks into shadows as the vocals spill in, as hushed tones then meets up with an explosion of might. Strong singing sinks in its teeth while another burst moves in, blasting and charging before fading out.

“Ambrosia” starts as a bruiser as it’s heavy and dank, with the shadows dropping mightily. The vocals bleed all over with some of the most forceful singing yet on the record as heads are crushed, and wills are challenged. All of that builds to a final cascade of noise that has sparks showering the ground. “Lunar Nights” opens by driving calmly but assuredly, as speaking is sprinkled over the build before a gazey detonation illuminates everything. The track churns and burns, unleashing fire before a sense of serenity takes over, and easier voices soothe. That’s before the earth’s crust is ruptured anew, sending emotions and tiny bits of your heart hurtling toward the sun. “The Wild Shore” ends the album by gently entering the room, taking account of everything lingering in the atmosphere before a volcanic charge tears things apart. The song goes back and forth between dreamy sequences and ashen doom, toppling psyches and later treating wounds. Once the chaos settles, sticks are tapped, water laps the shore, and you awaken to reality, again aware of your mind and body.

E-L-R are one of those revelatory bands that come along, seemingly from out of nowhere, and make an indelible mark on your psyche. “Mænad” is the perfect companion to my strange dreams, as their work would sound ideal as my brain is streaming through bizarre atmospheres on my way to no set destination. This is not going to leave your body bruised and bloody, but it will challenge you mentally and spiritually, which sometimes is an even larger mountain to climb.

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

To buy the album, go here (U.S.): https://us.prophecy.de/prophecy-prophecy-1/e-l-r-maenad.html

Or here (International): https://en.prophecy.de/artists/e-l-r/e-l-r-maenad.html

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

I know I’ve said this before, but thrash metal is very close to my heart, and I tend to be fairly protective of it when it comes to new bands trying their hands. This style of music is what took me from the weaker class of metal bands to more extreme sounds, and I’ve always been thankful for that and for getting me through high school.

When I find a good thrash band doing stuff that makes me think of my own formative years, I tend to embrace it, and Chile’s Ripper check all the boxes. They’re not exactly a new band, as their run has gone on for a little more than a decade, but it still seems like they’re developing an audience on this side of the world, which hopefully they can do a little further with their tasty new EP “Sensory Stagnation.” That’s not a very good description of the music, by the way, as an apt title could have been “Sensory Overload,” and your brain gets stretched and mashed by these five tracks that also swing heavily toward progressive waters. One of the elements that’s increasingly become thicker in Ripper’s sound is the alien bass work that stretches and lobs weird chemicals at you, which makes these songs even more fun to hear. The band—guitarist/vocalist Venus Torment, guitarist Daniel Poblete, bassist Pablo Cortez, drummer Nicolas Villenueva—serves this up as sort of a tide-me-over between their next full-length and 2016’s “Experiment of Existence,” and goddamn if it won’t fill you up nicely.

“Dissociation” starts the record, a brief instrumental cut that has guitars knifing, the bass bubbling for the first time, and some hefty thrashing before “The Unreal” takes over. Riffs smoke while the bass continues to command, as maniacal growls cut into the chest, and spacious playing feels like it’s headed to the stars. Strong soloing explores before the playing gets loopy again, and a final serving of violence brings the track to an end. The title track then arrives and bursts from the gates while the bass starts wrapping its tentacles. The band deals serious blows, trudging and chewing, while the guitars head out into the darkest stretches of the universe, and the vocals shred flesh. The track then gets speedy and mean as the vocals are snarled in vile manner, and the track comes to a bloody end. “Like a Sacrilege” has typically strong riffs as the track mashes fingers, and the mangling vocals add even more to the attack. The guitars again try to space things before the track trickles into calm before it’s off to the races. Wild howls and storming guitars then team up, while the bass blows a hole in everything as the track fades. “Terror Streets” destroys right off the bat as the drums pulverize and the vocals chew glass. Punchy thrashing and hideous growls smear as the soloing explodes, as the song comes to a fiery finish.

Band such as Ripper are keeping the true thrash spirit alive, and this killer new EP “Sensory Stagnation” will bash you around and leave you with a stinging headache. The band gets just proggy enough to make this feel like it’s dripping in cosmic goo but never leaves behind its heart. This fun, stop-gap effort might be kind of short at 20 minutes, but it will leave you feeling like you went five rounds in the Octagon in a fight in which you never had a chance.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.unspeakableaxerecords.com/purchase/

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

Compassion and concern for one another aren’t really things you find on most metal records. Especially ones that are heavy as hell. But it’s worth examining because we live in an era where we are busy and distracted and not terribly open to other people. Stress and mental wounds are rarely healing, and that can affect the way we treat one another.

These things were rolling around the brains of Ukrainian black metal band White Ward as they approached their second record “Love Exchange Failure,” their second overall. They thought about how involved our lives have become, how many people have lost the ability to love (not sexually, necessarily) other people, and how that affects us mentally. It’s a heavy thing to mull, and when you think of how our lives have devolved, especially socially, the idea is worth considering because we’re likely all guilty. That is why the band named the record “Love Exchange Failure” because it observes people using more hatred than love when dealing with other people. Using this record, that is a seven track, 67-minute epic, lets the band also apply different sounds and textures to their atmospheric black metal, another way in which the band—vocalist Andrii Mai, guitarists Yuriy Kazaryan and Mykola Jack, bassist Andrey Pechatkin, drummer Yevhenii Karamushko—digs into your mind and makes you think of things in ways you maybe haven’t before. They’re joined by assorted special guests to unfurl this album that is sobering and deeply emotional, and it might take a few listens to fully absorb all that’s here.

The title track starts the album with the sounds of urban life as sirens cry in the distance before keys and sax meet up to add to the ambiance. Three minutes in, the song explodes as Mai’s vocals rip out, and emotional trauma is spread heavily. Calm later returns as the music breezes and keys drop, and then the fires ignite anew, with wrenching vocals and pulsing drums. The track continues to punish as guitars and drums charge, but then things are swallowed into a jazzy mist as the song fades into the night. “Poisonous Flowers of Violence” has gazey dripping that’s sets the mood before things fully erupt. Melodic riffs and spiraling playing join with Mai’s harsh cries, with the song utterly waylaying with power. Gruff growls give off a guttural jolt before rain picks up, and the soft sax arrives again. Guitars return to inject some electricity again, while the back end of the song mixes keys, sax, and woodwinds, ending in serenity. “Dead Heart Confession” has dark guitars trickling, as quotes from Jeffrey Dahmer slip behind, sending chills, before everything is wrecked. Growls decimate as the classic metal backing brings a weird sense of nostalgia, while the leads rush through a thunderstorm. The seas calm while sax reverberates, the bass bends, and the song ruptures all over. From there, the playing swells again, growls split the senses, and the song floats away into the arms of shadows.

“Shelter” is an instrumental track and one of the shortest here, clocking in at 5:41. Keys and whispers unite before the body crumbles and noise begins to spread, making everything beneath it burst. Later on, chimes ring on as the music hovers, and then it’s into “No Cure For Pain” that stays with the delicacy. The track takes time to get moving as a mood is established, and at about 3:35, the playing get shredded with growls smashing and the tempo destroying. Sounds mash into an epic solo that again brings back the feelings of metal’s glory years before the hammers drop all over again, and the vocals pelt the flesh. Sax playing mixes in with the thrashing as the group joins up in rousing “ah-ah” calls, and deep crooning from Vitality Gavrilenko goes for the chest before the shrapnel is spewed all over again. “Surfaces and Depths” is very different but really rewarding, a true example of the band’s flexibility. Keys set the tone, as things head into jazzy waters again, and Renata Kazhan lends her smoky voice to the track, making it really stand out. “We are all doomed, so ease your prayers,” she urges, as the song pushes into the lonesome night. Sax swims through before a mighty deluge strikes at the end, taking the song into its resting place. Closer “Uncanny Delusions” also brings different winds, as clean guitars flow generously, and vocals from Ivan Kozakevych (with his thick Ukrainian accent) add a brassy, elegant feel to the song. Eventually things blow apart, and the metallic attack arrives, complete with Mai’s wrenching screams. The meaty mashing always melds back with shadowy playing, feeling like a fog is taking you to a haunted place. All of that disappears like a spirit into a strange stretch of old-timey music and disarming crying that leaves you chilled to the bone.

White Ward is a band like few others who combine savage blackness with smooth waters, mixing so many moods and emotions that you never can get too comfortable. “Love Exchange System” also is a record that, thematically, sets itself apart from so many other extreme music albums and the bands that play them. This is a human record centered on concern and compassion, and the music will stay with me into the colder months and the years beyond. It’s that impactful.

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

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

Or here (Europe): https://debemurmorti.aisamerch.com/

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

I’m not sure that this is the age of the epic. Media gets consumed and spit out so quickly that it’s hard to make an impact with a longer piece, unless we’re talking a movie, where you’re forced to sit there for as long as it takes. Musically, things are broken into little bits, and while there remain stars, there hardly is the lasting impact for artists that there used to be.

Swedish crushers Cult of Luna have been doing things for more than two decades now, and in an age of here today, gone later today, these guys have heavily thwarted the notion that they need to make things digestible. Their new record “A Dawn to Fear” is an absolute mammoth at eight tracks and 79 minutes. If you don’t have the patience and willingness to immerse yourself in something that demands that long, you’re going to miss one of the most fascinating and crushing records of the year, one that belongs next to Cult of Luna’s finest moments. The band—vocalist/guitarist Johannes Persson, guitarist/vocalist Fredrik Kihlberg, keyboardist/vocalist Kristian Karlsson, bassist Andreas Johansson, drummer/percussionist Thomas Hedlund, drummer/studio engineer Magnus Lindberg—didn’t set out to create a straight narrative and instead let things be looser when creating what you hear, and the result is fiery, fluid, and kinetic, an album that doesn’t feel as long as it is. That approach worked perfectly, and this album unravels itself and reveals more secrets with every listen.

“The Silent Man” opens the record with noise swelling before the music begins pounding, and Persson’s growls start to settle in. The keys leave a strange film as the journey whirs along, unloading chaos before things get equally mesmerizing and crunchy. Slide guitars give off a haunting vibe as moody organs spill in, the track gets a spacey texture, and everything bleeds away. “Lay Your Head to Rest” is the shortest track, running 6:24, and it begins with electric pulses and muddy punishment before Persson’s growls break up the ground. The track hulks along while sounds hover, crushing wills and landing heavy punches to the end. The title track sparks and lets dreams spill through, as numb singing takes over for the roars, and the darkness floods. The slide guitars again spark a mood, letting you settle into dusk before the track gets thornier, and the growls smash the senses. Things go back to reflective as dark notes drip, and the misty sadness spreads all over the earth. “Nightwalkers” trickles as the bass begins to plod, sprawling and mashing with growls scarring. Strange keys wash in and makes your mind feel strange with the growls returning, the pace boiling and steaming, and the organs acting like a slow-release drug. That all is swallowed whole as the band chugs heavily, fiery playing increases the heat, and the track dissolves into mystery.

“Lights on the Hill” is the longest track here, clocking in at 15:07, and each second is well spent. The front end has a psychedelic Pink Floyd feel, with the song slowly unfurling, bleeding and crawling into an extended instrumental section. The vocals finally rip in about six and a half minutes into the song, and from there the monstrous theatrics continue to pile on. The assault is calculated much of the time while the synth blazes, and fiery cries leave bruising before the final stretch fades into serenity that’s dragged off into the distance. “We Feel the End” is hazy and intoxicating with softer singing and a post-rock-style feel, not unlike Crippled Black Phoenix’s delicate moments.  The track remains pulled back, as rainy clouds thicken, the atmosphere is filled with gray, and the music ends in a somber shadow. “Inland Rain” has energy poking through, barked vocals, and a slurry ambiance that feels cosmic and welcoming. The keys blend and send off mist while the growls crush, the music crescendos, and the final moments smash things to bits. “The Fall” is the closer, opening slowly and letting the first section of its 13:13 get settled. Finally, the track bursts with the growls scraping, as the wrenching pace and the hammering music batters everything. Melody slides into fog, washing through the unknown, and then the song explodes dangerously again. Savage wails and the band unloading molten rock makes the world melt, but then the guitars get colder, the emotions settle, and the track flows into the universe.

So many bands have come along and tried to tread the same waters as Cult of Luna, but none of them have captured their penchant for adventure and desolate heaviness the way they can. “A Dawn to Fear” is another monstrous display from this band, one that fits right along their classic works but pushes them toward their future. This is another awesome display, one that uses every ounce of their imagination and energy and leaves you heaving with breath when it’s over.

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

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

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

Over the past decade and a half, there has been so much death and black metal clogging up extreme music’s veins, that it seemed many had forgotten there were either ways to play this stuff. Yet slowly, things swung back, and bands that employed more drama and clean singing worked their way back in to claim time, and that’s made the whole scene a more nuanced place in which to be.

I’m not sure a band such as Atlantean Kodex would have been as roundly accepted by a larger audience had they been in the meat of their career 15 years ago. It was a different time, and things had switched to tougher styles, and bands like these tended to fall by the wayside with extreme music audiences. Then again, it’s hard to deny a band as great as this, so maybe they’d have been the exception. Nonetheless, we have them now, and their magnificent third album “The Course of Empire” has arrived six years after their high-water mark “The White Goddess” aggressively grabbed people’s attention (it was our No. 1 record that year). This new one hardly pulls back on the ambition, the huge sounds, and the soaring vocals that help make this band as special as it is. With 10 tracks spread over nearly 63 minutes, everything here is epic and huge. This is another master class in epic heavy metal, making them the closest modern equivalent we have to an Iron Maiden or a Manilla Road. But they’re so much different than those bands, and so many others than came before them, that I don’t want to pigeonhole this German crew—vocalist Markus Becker, guitarists Manuel Trummer and Coralie Baier, bassist Florian Kreuzer, and drummer Mario Weiss. They’re a force of nature barely contained to wax.

“The Alpha and the Occident (Rising from Atlantean Tombs)” is a quick, yet vibrant opening where guitars begin to awaken, and Becker calls, “Empires, rise, empires fall,” a sentiment that returns later in the record. “People of the Moon (Dawn of Creation)” trudges open and is a perfection dictionary definition of an Atlantean Kodex song. The verses pump, and once the chorus arrives, all gears are shoved into overdrive, with Becker wailing, “And now our hearts still yearn, but the world, unheeding, turns.” The track pulls back a bit before a big return complete with guitars slathering, the pace charging, and Becker singing, “Ghost kings chanting of tragedy and mirth,” as the song ends. “Lion of Chaldea (The Heroes’ Journey)” keeps the momentum moving as winds blow in, horses trample, and a killer metallic riff cuts through steel. “We walk as giants among mankind,” Becker declares, as a tremendous chorus jams in yet another dagger. The soloing catches fire and burns out of control, the chorus resurges, and the track ends in flames. “Chariots (Descending from Zagros)” has a cinematic opening, as Becker calls, “Tremble all ye who have heard the call, for another kingdom falls.” The track then gets pretty savage, as the band pounds away, and a massive chorus strikes, as Becker sings of “devouring rage, brimstone, fire, and smoke.” The track continues to char while an emotional solo guts before the assault lessens, and the track ends in quiet guitars and softer vocals. “The Innermost Light (Sensus Fidei)” takes its time building, as Becker warns, “Where there is silence, there is thunder,” as the group harmonizes behind him. Ominous drumming rings out while organs swell, and Becker finishes with, “No more war in the palace of light.”

“A Secret Byzantium (Numbered as Sand and the Stars)” has a calculated open, taking its time to stretch its wings as cities burn. “In their tales, we became gods,” Becker notes, melding the idea of legends and tragedy. The chorus is pretty different, even understated, as the tale rambles on. “A path of wisdom we blazed through heathen darkness,” Becker calls as the track winds down, birds chirp, and doomed bells ring. “He Who Walks Behind the Years (Place of Sounding Drums)” is thunderous and immersed in European folk music, with a heavier edge setting sparks. “Will I ever walk this earth again?” Becker wonders, though later he reminds, “My kingdom is not of this world,” as a powerful solo tears down walls. The tempo and tone both are ignited, while the band bashes away, the singing soars, and the final moment return to the same, lush folk base that greeted us. “Spell of the Western Sea (Among Wolves and Thieves)” is a quick track with water crashing, singing floating, remembering a time when the narrator was king, and things flowing toward “The Course of Empire (All Thrones in Earth and Heaven)” that has a modern Maiden taste to it. “Empires rise, empires fall,” Becker reminds, coming full circle from the record’s start, as the track splashes like a tidal wave, sweeping you along with it. “Nothing sacred’s left alive,” Becker wails before the band goes into a full “woah-oh” chorus that should be a killer live, with the track suddenly fading away about seven minutes in. It rises again in the arms of folk before things explode again, and the track comes to a glorious finish. Closer  “Die welt von Gestern (Abendland)” closes the record with a voice speaking in German, waves crashing, and the feeling of being at sea. Fire crackle and the music heads off over the horizon.

The glory of heavy metal is alive and well with Atlantean Kodex, one of the great bands of our age. “The Course of Empire” is another rushing, historically slashing record that makes your heart soar while also directing you toward Google searches to learn more about the content that makes up these songs. There are few bands as special as this, so whenever we get to bask in their glory, we should remember to realize how memorable their presence really is.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Atlantean-Kodex-187524197964771

To buy the album, go here: https://www.van-records.de/advanced_search_result.php?keywords=atlantean+kodex&x=0&y=0

For more on the label, go here: https://www.van-records.de/

Taking a chance when it comes to making music either can be a rewarding surprise or an unmitigated disaster that probably should have remained on the shelf. Whatever the result, it’s still a worthwhile venture because even if things turn out really not good, there’s a chance to learn and get better. And when it goes well, you have something that jumpstarts your blood flow.

“False Confession,” the debut LP from Weeping Sores, definitely falls in the latter category. Mixing death, doom, and violin is a thing that either could go very right or depressingly wrong, but all the right buttons are hammered over and over again on this thing, making it one of the more interesting debuts to come along this year. Combining Doug Moore (guitars, bass, vocals) and Stephen Schweiger (drums) from death chameleons Pyrrhon with violinist Gina Eygenhuysen, who played live with Tchornobog, the band crafts a compelling, pulverizing amalgamation of the dark arts on this six-track, 56-minute collection. With that run time and that amount of songs, you already have figured out this band puts together lengthy compositions, and you’d be right. But they never overstay their welcome and, in fact, make great use out of every inch of sound that’s here, putting together nightmares, shadows, and ghostly beauty into a devastating package.

“Scars Whispering Secret Tongues” opens the record with equal parts crunch and delicacy as adventurous riffs swell, and grim growls destroy. There’s a sense of adventure as well as things shoot into space and the guitars slurp. Growls and shrieks trade places before an orchestral sweep comes in, the track lurches, and a strong solo leads into a hazy fog. Mournful playing then bleeds before the violin takes us into the dark. “Song of Embers” flows in feeling reflective at first before the strings thicken, and the emotion wells up. The ground rumbles as growls cut through, while the violin pounds and stuns, growls smear, and fire and melody intertwine. The track hammers, vicious growls smear, and things come to a savage end. “Transfiguration of Flesh Into Dream” is lurching hell from the start before ugly, smashing death arrives, and a ferocious pace dictates terms. Steamy leads stretch, making your head swim, while ugly vocals bubble to the surface, demolition lands, and the violin adds a sinister vibe that ends the song in terror.

“The Leech Called Shame” drubs from the start, feeling inventive as the violin flows. That goes into mammoth pounding as the strings blend in again and sting, a trudging fury mounts, and your mind can’t help dripping from your ears as the track ends in a bed of feedback. “Valediction Prayer” sludges slowly as the growls and shrieks again unite, and the tempo pounds heavily as the violin drizzles pain. Noise scrapes as the song blends into proggy territory, while things pick up and feel more dangerous. The song takes on a baroque horror feel while the music swims through the air, you can’t help but feel disoriented, and everything bleeds out in noise. “Sinking Beneath the Waves” ends the record with strings echoing and slurry riffs getting going. Mean roars slash as the track parades in muck, and snarling death smashes the senses. Growls gurgle blood before calm sets in, taking its time before going off again. When it does, the track mixes brutality and melody, your synapses split, and an angelic haze hangs over everything as the record melts into a time warp.

Weeping Sores is more than just an interesting project from three well-accomplished creators. It’s a smothering, inventive group responsible for a shape-shifting record in “False Confession” that seems to change before your eyes and ears with each listen. The album and band are more than a sum of their parts; this is a promising beast that I can only image how it will sound once record two comes along.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://i-voidhanger.com/shop/

Or here (cassette version): https://www.riffmerchant.com/product/weeping-sores

For more on the label, go here: http://i-voidhanger.com/