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/

Photo by Jason Tipton

We live in a strange, volatile place that, at current state, doesn’t seem to be getting any friendlier any time soon. On top of that is you have people who are trying to find a place to belong where they feel safe and accepted, and then there are those on the other side who belittle those individuals and taunt them to get tough or suck it up. What a load of horse shit.

Seeking and finding acceptance is something many of us need, and often we find that in music. Michigan grind beasts Cloud Rat have been one of those bands that have fought for the oppressed and those who need a scene with which to align, and over the past decade, they’ve backed that up with some of the most volcanic creations in heavy music. Now comes their explosive new full-length “Pollinator,” a 14-track barrage that isn’t just brutality for the sake of it. Their music never is that way. Hidden beneath all the trauma are messages of hope in a world full of hell. The band states that the lyrics address trauma and memories, relationship and communication issues, and trying to navigate all of that in modern society. Vocalist Madison Marshall, guitarist/keyboard player/sampler Rorik Brooks, and drummer Brandon Hill hope what you hear on “Pollinator” can wash over you and help you find a connection in a place where there is so much negativity. Not that they don’t also delve into some of the darkness and blackness, because they definitely do. But out of that comes power and hopefully the inspiration for others to push their own minds and try to change their worlds for the better.

“Losing Weight” starts the record as a blast that lasts less than 2 minutes and is a volcanic burst as Marshall’s vocals strip away at muscle, with the song grinding you down into “Delayed Grief // Farmhouse Red” that utterly goes off. Murky synth gives off clouds while the vocals snarl and crush, the band hits a thrashy fury, and shrapnel piles up at a sludgy end. “Seven Heads” has strong riffs, Marshall dicing the senses, and everything smothering before a strange fog sickens. The guitars then round back and destroy, leading into “Night Song” that echoes out front before yells bleed in, later turning to desperate cries. The track then gets heavier and uglier as the band wrecks shit, ending in total panic. “Wonder” has guitars flush with color and mangling vocals as Marshall admits, “My brain never shuts off!” That continues to pile into fury, rushing into “The Mad”  that opens into slowly mauling anguish and emotional leads before the song opens up. The drums decimate along with the rest of the assault, leading toward “Al Di La” that sits in a melodic haze. The song then starts trucking as everything in front of it is destroyed, Marshall’s growls slash, and the aftermath is swallowed into a mist.

“Last Leaf” has guitars trickling in before everything explodes. Massive riffs and animalistic growls deface, ending in a pile of filthy mashing. “Zula” is a quick, blinding attack with sickening screams and a tornadic pace, ramming into “Biome” that has vicious growls and a tempo that sucks you under forever. The playing begins to spin out, making the room catapult, ending in a massive rain. “Webspinner” is a piledriver, bending your neck, smearing soot in your face as Marshall accuses, “You would do anything,” as the music swims into hell. “Luminescent Cellar” slows things down, allowing reflection, slowly buzzing into your brain. The dreamy sequence is then torn to shreds as guitars gurgle, with everything ending in guttural wails. “Marionettes” has a melodic open before Armageddon lands and blackens the earth. The storm rips through, sending mud and trees flying before things drip into dreams. “Perla” finishes the record with melody again shining through, with Marshall’s vocals there to lacerate the night, and thrashy, mashing verses that’ll leave you bruised. The mood changes about halfway through, adding even more emotion to the song and ending everything with your heart bleeding out.

Cloud Rat are a force with which to be reckoned both on record and live, and the music they deliver on “Pollinator” is vital, devastating, and perhaps just what so many of us need to hear right now. The band never has been shy about spreading their messages, and they’ve been a strong voice standing up for positive social and political efforts in which they believe. Along with that, they’re also one of the most inventive and calamitous bands in heavy music, and this record only goes to further solidify that point.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://cloudrat.bandcamp.com/

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

Photo by Marie Lin

It’s always weird when you hear a song in a commercial that totally isn’t representative of the product being moved nor the mood they’re trying to strike in the piece. That’s either because the makers didn’t understand the song or they didn’t give a shit and figure you won’t either. But it’s one of the ways people misunderstand music’s intent despite how it sounds on the surface.

If you dig into Philly rockers Sheer Mag’s new record “A Distant Call” and don’t immerse yourself in the lyrics and story that connects these 10 songs, you might get the wrong idea. With its killer riffs, rock n roll attitude, and Tina Halladay’s impossibly infectious singing, this record might sound like a great album in which to toss back beers and get sunburnt this summer, or at least what’s left of it. Not that you can’t do that, but you’d be missing a pretty deep, painful tale that’s being told here, one based on a period in Halladay’s life that might help connect the band with listeners going through similar struggles. Through her singing, she tells a story about a women who lost her job and also is dealing with the death of her father, with whom she’s had a difficult relationship. The record also touches on modern politics that feel a lot like old politics as well as workers standing up for their rights. It’s also, all of this aside, a punchy, ultra-catchy album that’ll definitely catch you off guard as the band—Halladay is joined by guitarist/lyricist Matt Palmer, guitarist Kyle Seely, bassist Hart Seely—pays homage to the arena rock era, as these songs are huge and will overwhelm you.

“Steel Sharpens Steel” opens the record with a wild howl from Halladay and the riffs getting going, with a killer bridge with her calling, “It’s a chain reaction when you turn the other cheek, remember if you’re looking for action, and you’re feeling dull and weak.” The simple chorus is easy to call back and is a defiant call that the hard times make you tougher. “Blood From a Stone” has a great riff and is a little breezier, as Halladay insists, “But I won’t cry, cuz I should have known, that to get some comfort from your aching heart, is blood from a stone.” A cool solo rips out, which is par for the course on this record, and Halladay blasts back about the struggles of living check to check before the track rings out. “Unfound Manifest” has a steely guitar line driving through before a twin assault is launched. “Sinking in dark waters, fighting back against the tide, can’t hold on much longer when the salt begins to rise,” Halladay notes, while the strong chorus gets the blood going, and the track comes to a fiery end. “Silver Line” changes things up as it has a shimmery psychedelic feel, making it easily stick out in a good way. “I’m making it day by day,” Halladay insists while a warm solo sinks in, and the track comes to a dreamy finish. “Hardly to Blame” has a nighttime vibe and a bruising chorus, as the guitars light up in neon. “I tried to love you, I tried to tell you,” Halladay sings at the end of the chorus, while the song itself fades.

“Cold Sword” has riffs powering through, though the song comes with tragedy and sadness, as Halladay sings, “Today I got the news that his heart gave out, I know I’ll never have another, but what father darkens his own house?” Her voice is a highlight of this song, which is no surprise, as amid hardship, she manages to stand her ground despite an unsteady future. “Chopping Block” has guitars that remind of Priest’s synth-based days in the 1980s, as the singing pushes hard, the chorus crunches, and the call of, “The final hour strikes the clock, they need to pay, they owe us our back wage,” drives everything home. “The Right Stuff” has Halladay tackling body image and her defiance when adhering to what society determines is beauty, which she says right here in the song. Along the way, the band creates a psyche vibe, as she strikes back with, “If you’re worried about my health, shut your mouth and keep it to yourself,” as a killer solo strikes the final nails. “The Killer” is an awesome cut that delves back into politics continuing in a ruinous cycle that only serves to beat us down. “He’s got you right between the eyes,” Halladay warns, as the band puts together a super infectious chorus that sounds cheery but is anything but. The record ends with “Keen on Running” that has the bass slinking with the drums, the guitars mangling, and Halladay’s singing sounding softer in spots, where she pokes, “On our backs, they want to see us fall.” The band drums up a huge classic rock-style finish that ends the record in a barrage of fireworks both musically and emotionally.

Sheer Mag’s power and exuberance are impossible to ignore and a super refreshing breath of fresh air in our current musical climate that very often forgets to have fun. At the same time, “A Distant Call” has sobering subject matter that can cut right to the bone, especially for those who have experienced these same struggles. This is a hell of a statement, a really strong record, and the further push to the future for one of this era’s most energetic rock bands.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://wilsunsrc.bigcartel.com

Not too long ago, I watched two people argue about black metal on Twitter. One person claimed the only true works of the genre were the records that came from the Norwegian second wave, while the other person posited that while those are great albums and bands, so much progress has been made since then. I agreed with her wholeheartedly. Things have refreshingly evolved.

I say that as German black metal duo Imperium Dekadenz delivered their sixth record “When We Are Forgotten,” an album that finds the band operating at their same base but branching out far more than ever before. I’ve been a huge fan of this band for a long time now and always reveled in their atmospheric black metal, but hearing what they display here on these 11 cuts (plus two bonus songs depending on what version you have), makes their art even more enthralling than before. Longtime creators Horaz (vocals, guitars, keys) and Vespasian (guitar, bass, drums, keys) expand their worldview, bringing in more melody and emotion, dripping in all kinds of musical influences, and making a more full-bodied expression that declares the limits are boundless for them.

“When We Are Forgotten” starts with guitars stinging, and then things ease in before erupting. Melodic playing and grisly growls combine, with things driving into a black metal atmosphere. The chorus is rousing but simple, deep bellows spill in later, and the track ends in rousing spirits. “Bis Ich Bin” has an ominous start, and then the track rips into you, devastating and sending a huge surge. The track sits while the power boils, as guitars swim through the madness, catapulting toward a rushing end. “My Solace I (Choirs of Solitude)” slowly awakens as the melodies untangle, and then the music ramps up. Speaking pushes over the top while the vocals wrench bones, with a chorus that pushes waves and the song beaming into the sky. “Trauma” is a quick interlude with spacey keys and scraping guitars that pushes into “A Cave Called Wisdom” where the riffs drive into rock. The guitars sweep, and the shrieks crush as Horaz yells, “The eye is opening up,” as the earth crashes over an abrupt end. “Transcendence” has an airy open before the music trickles, feeling a little more accessible than what we’ve come to expect from the band. The growls then destroy as the playing crescendos, swirling through chaos before rushing toward its finish.

“Séance” is another quick interlude that’s chilling and haunting, floating into “Abszenz Elysium” that gets things going aggressively. Melody and emotion combine and rumble, with creaking growls creating giant holes and then clean calling sweeping over. Things settle in a cloudy gaze before the hammers are dropped again, the assault continues, and then clean singing gives the song a serene finish. “My Solace II (Paths of Perception)” is picturesque at the start with Horaz calling, “Standing in the forest so cold,” before later wondering, “Will I ever find my solace?” The track crushes with the heaviness of sadness and loss, as Horaz continues to ask the same question repeatedly, as the song bleeds to its end. “Reverie” is a final interlude, built by echoes, plucked guitars, and weird dripping, going into finale (well, depending on which version you have) “Frozen in Time” that begins with a post-metal-style gushing. The verses are fairly approachable before the harshness returns over the chorus, with the pace picking up and later dropping, and the band delving deeply into highs and lows. Horaz repeatedly calls, “Frozen in time!” over and over. The music goes cold as whispers poke, and then the track catches fire again and brings the track to a devastating finish. If you’re opting for the digital version, you get two more tracks in instrumental “Behold the Flame of Time” that’s strange and cosmic, as well as “Owl of the Black Forest” that’s hypnotic and harsh and is worth going to digital route, because it’s really powerful.

Imperium Dekadenz’s refusal to give in to any one path makes the future limitless for them and infused even more ingenuity into “When We Are Forgotten.” This band has proved its strengths and flexibility, and that’s made for an adventure that’ll surprise but likely excite people who have been along for the long haul. ID have been one of black metal’s more intriguing bands all along, and now they figured out a way to make their work even more interesting.

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

To buy the album (North America), go here: https://www.napalmrecordsamerica.com/store/?SID=1263bbb845ff2eb214c80f13cd19a3ac

Or here (Europe): https://napalmrecords.com/deutsch/imperiumdekadenz/

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

So, other than this site being a quasi-pro wrestling page disguised as a metal blog, there’s also some major dorking out over sci-fi stories over here. Currently, I’m ensconced in James S.A. Corey’s “Expanse” series that has taken up almost all of my reading time this year. When I can find music that sits alongside that, it makes it an even more rewarding experience all around.

Metallic chameleons Kayo Dot once again stepped up to the plate to bring that ideal companion piece with their new record “Blasphemy.” Like all Kayo Dot experiences, this one takes a while to wrap your head around what’s going on both lyrically and especially musically, but once it sinks in, it does so hard. Once again, the band sinks into a story and lyrics written by Jason Byron (formerly of Maudlin of the Well along with multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Toby Driver) about three people going on a quest for treasure, only to be destroyed by the very thing they seek, a mysterious sleeping girl named Blasphemy, hence the title. The tale of politics and greed is as classic as any tale from that perspective, but as you delve into the world itself, it gets more immersive. I pulled out some lyrics below, but really, they won’t provide proper perspective. I just happen to like them. Anyway, along with Driver are guitarist Ron Varod, drummers Leonardo Didkovsky and Phillip Price, as well as Tim Byrnes on trumpet and Timm Mason on addition synth design.

“Ocean Cumulonimbus” opens the record with gentle waves before Driver’s singing unfurls, flowing along and letting intensity build. Suddenly, his singing turns to unnerving shrieks, and then a proggy fog settles in and buries the song in murk. “The wheels of progress grind and spin, crushing bones,” Driver observes, “Our loss their win, breaking backs and pressing onward, the spirit of progress pushing downward,” as the track comes to an alien-like end. “The Something Opal” enters into a mist as keys zap, whispery vocals lead the way, and then things suddenly pick up, and the singing ups its intensity as well. Guitars lap, shouts gnaw, and a sludgy atmosphere is beaten down by the drumming. “An Eye for a Lie” is mind-melting, with the vocals autotuned for effect and a spacey ambiance sending chills. The singing then turns in rap-like delivery before getting higher, as the track slips into a dreamy haze. Sounds pushes back into the clouds before floating out with otherworldly strangeness. “Lost Souls on Lonesome’s Way” drives in with strong singing from Driver and a forceful slip into another world taking hold. Weird tones and vivid storytelling shine a light, as Driver sings, “Drew up like madness, ghoul in its coat, he spoke with a smile that went crooked and broken, but he swallowed his bait to seek out the Lapis.” That chills flesh before everything slips out into bubbling.

“Vanishing Act in Blinding Gray” delves further into worlds beyond our own, and it’s the longest cut here, running 8:09. Softer vocals and sound flushes combine, as Driver utters surreal passages such as, “Pilot daydream wasting hours, no port of call to cast his flowers, with lust he wandered far from shore, adventure to the Lands of Whore.” Things get grittier later, as guitars trudge, and a bizarre fog shrouds all sights, as Driver sings, “The spying warden watches from his tower in secret using an esoteric magnifying glass,” before things come to a muddy end. “Turbine, Hook, and Haul” has impenetrable murk, vocals in higher register, and a frosty sci-fi feel that gets into your blood cells. Sax rings out as the vocals swim through the air, and a chilling night feel passes over, giving your body psychological chills. “Midnight Mystic Rise and Fall” starts with Driver calling, “Curse the girl, the girl is cursed, she dreams in jet, her soul is as black as her body,” as vibrant sounds pump through, giving almost an urban feel to the playing. Later on, he declares, “She needs to die,” as the song revels in its oddness, and the keys give off mesmerizing winds.” Closer “Blasphemy: A Prophecy” brings the story to a close, and the characters are tasting demise. Keys sneak through, the vocals punish, and things surge through the ether. “See the fools and see their lies, the bargaining of lives,” Driver calls, “Remove their hands, put out their eyes, walk away as airship dies,” as the song and story crumble, and the track bleeds out into eternity.

Kayo Dot’s musical imagination, along with Byron’s riveting storytelling and lyrics, power “Blasphemy,” yet another intense step forward for a band that gushes progression. This band always has had a unique trajectory and sound, and none of their records are remotely close to repeats of anything that preceded it. That’s part of what keeps Kayo Dot creating some of heavy music’s most enthralling records, that and their incredible dexterous musicianship.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://prophecy.lnk.to/kayo-dot-blasphemy

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

Not to be outright agitating from the start, but it should be clear by now that this site stands in defiance of the current person called the president and his administration’s legacy of horrors that has done and potentially will do irreparable damage to everyone here who isn’t white, male, and in the very upper crust. Everyone else is flesh to be consumed by the gears of the machine.

Sections of metal and hardcore have risen up specifically against these terrible times, one of those being Oregon-based mashers Cliterati. The band is steamrolling back with “Ugly Truths/Beautiful Lies” that encompasses all of their anger and frustration and spreads it thick and mightily over 15 tracks that rage through 32 minutes. The band has professed they are comprised of a mix of queer, straight, white, and people of color, making them a diverse set of individuals and perfect folks to express their level of discontent. The band—vocalist Ami Lawless, guitarist Melissa White, bassist Maika Brummett, drummer Coleman Hamilton—storms the gate and delivers a sound that mixes hardcore, punk, death metal, and grind that absolutely destroys everything in sight and sends a vicious message to anyone who would see that their rights, and those of their people, are trampled. If you dare stand in front of them, you deserve whatever comes your way.

“Slow Burn” is an opening instrumental that’s grounded in metallic hardcore and does a great job getting the heart started, then it’s into “Tribal Politics,” bursting from the gates practically on fire. Lawless’ vocals smother while the band backs them with a slaying that hammers home their points. “Trans Is Beautiful” is an explosive anthem of support for transgender folks, and its speedy, thrashy crunch should have blood surging in veins while fists are pumped. “Unfuck the System” has thick bass and a trudging pace that urges trying to fix a social and political structure that has been dealing unfair blows for too long. Lawless torches the “injustice waged against us all” as the band lands hammer shots. “Silence = Death” rips apart the notion of staying in your lane instead of questioning what everyone knows is wrong. “Nothing said, nothing done,” Lawless wails as the track storms ahead, and hardcore thunder rips a hole in everything. “Breakup Song” has a bit of a rock n roll feel before Lawless throws barbs against shitty partners screaming, “I don’t want you anymore,” as the band tosses buckets of acid. “Scars Are What Hold Me Together” has a volcanic approach, a fast blast of power that has Lawless howling, “My name is nothing, and that is fine.”

“Latinx Taken” is a show of defiance and support for all of the Latino people who have been treated like animals under the current, uh, administration. “They take our hearts, they take our talent, our best ideas,” Lawless stabs, “Break up our families, call us illegals.” The track is just devastating both musically and in the pain in the words. “Footprints on the Moon” has a stunning punk burst with leads scorching, a hardcore assault sprinting toward madness, and a blazing big finish. “GPCL” is fast as fuck, lashing out against those who prevent equality in the workplace and fair wages, with Lawless belting that the system is “lining the pockets of the 1 percent, creating desperation for the rest.” The title track has the bass crushing and the band firing on all cylinders, as Lawless sings angrily about race relations and shitty dudes holding tiki torches, pounding away forcefully and never giving an inch. “Remnants of War” is a fast one with gnarly growls and the band showing its massive might. “Redneck White and Blue” has one of the best lyrics of the year as Lawless shreds, “Fox News, self-abuse,” which should be that channel’s slogan. The scathing punk assault leaves deep brush burns and some personal gashes as well, as Lawless jabs, “Let these colors run.” “In Crust We Trust” is fast and massive as riffs destroy and things boil in total hell. “Shapeshift Away” ends the album with raucous energy and devastating thrash as the track is off to the races, Lawless’ words carve away, and everything is absorbed into a cloud of noise.

This country has a lot for which to atone, which I’m not holding my breath for by any means, so until we sober up, we need forces such as Cliterati to call out the bullshit. “Ugly Truths/Beautiful Lies” is a fire-breathing, directly-in-your-face assault that declares they see the transgressions, and they’re not afraid to call them out at the top of their lungs. As long as we have forces such as these to hammer sense into people, our system of checks and balances that withers away at least has this music to make it know that we fucking see you.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://tankcrimes.merchtable.com

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

We’re watching the world burn. Oh, quite literally. The goddamn jungle is on fire. But that charring also is running through our societal systems, our political structure, and our miasmal lives. There’s a stench from the black smoke billowing from this Earth that might be telling the story of how we choked ourselves out with absolute reckless abandon.

Swedish occult soothsayers Year of the Goat are watching on with practical glee on their faces. Not that they’re cheering on the destruction of the world. But the evil the see in others, the diabolical forces that get waved off and blamed on other things creates the rot they’ve written about for many years now. Their latest opus is “Novis Orbis Terrarum Ordinis,” which translates to new world order, and it’s a nine-track drama that builds form piece to piece and might as well be showing us portraits of our deaths to our faces while they mock us. This dark troops—Thomas Sabbathi (vocals, guitar), Jonas Mattsson (guitar), Linus Lundgren (guitar), Joona Hassinen  (bass), Daniel Melo (drums), Pope (mellotron, vocals—spin webs you cannot escape, and even while you’re enraptured by melody and catchiness, you’re always brought back to the hard truth, that things are, essentially, fucked.

“Subortus” starts the record with guitars ringing to life before twin leads join up and add crunch, and Sabbathi’s powerful, emotive vocals lead the way. The track rushes with fire, as Sabbathi wails, “My name shall be adversary, earth’s powers are mine,” while sinister voices add to the chaos, and the track comes to a spirited end. “Acedia” has a psychedelic feel while the tempo gallops, guitars rise, and the chorus again is a killer. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, don’t waste your time making plans,” Sabbathi warns, while the song comes to a huge finish. “Luxuria” has dual guitars calling out and the pace of the song charging up and going over the top. “My eyes lusted for what I saw, my heart drew me in, a bitter taste on my tongue, left by the sweets I was served,” Sabbathi sings, as the track delves deep in golden-toned 1970s-style rock. Strong soloing flexes its muscles before the track comes to an atmospheric end. “Ira” runs 9:40 and has a bluesy, Pink Floyd-flavored start. The vocals are softer, as the track takes on ballad qualities, as Sabbathi pushes, “For those fallen short of the glory, I’ll be the tempest, I’ll be the storm.” Naturally, the song builds with fury as it goes, as the vocals turn raspier, the emotion threatens, and fiery soloing and a heavy prog feel unite and drive the song over the edge.

“Superbia” has guitars charging from the gates as the band bursts with speed and power, giving off a sort of revival feel, as the blood washes over, choral callbacks quake, and the track comes to a tumultuous end. “Gula” also begins in flames as the band charges the gates, and your insides are left to quiver. “A body to honor god  by making it a holy shrine, and put a knife to your throat if you’re ever given to Gula,” Sabbathi commands as the track bristles with life and then ends in a calming pool. “Artiria” has keys settling in before meeting up with punchy guitars, as the bulk of the track deals heavy body blows to you, unsuspecting of the attack, as you’re left prone and gushing. “Invidia” is metallic when it starts and again gets the heart racing. “All your pain, all your tears, leave them by the cross,” Sabbathi urges, as the track rouses the spirit of rebellion, and the final calls of, “It’s all about me,” punctuate the guitars that leaves the walls crumbling and burning. “Subicio” is the 14-minute closer that starts with psyche wash, vocals at a much higher register, and the tidal wave of anguish and sorrow. This is a tremendous ballad, where Sabbathi wonders, “Is this my kingdom, where the sin outshines the lordly grace?” as the track moves on and paints the surface red. Lucifer’s fall is outlined in gory detail, as the track takes on many faces, later on with Sabbathi painfully wondering, “How can I live if they have to die to live again?” The track promises retribution and dark justice, as group chants emerge, Sabbathi calls, “I can still hear the children cry, though they’ve been blessed by the water,” as the tumult levels, and everything fades into a noise spiral.

Year of the Goat, somehow, haven’t gotten swept up in the recent wave of occult rock bands that have inundated our senses, but underneath all of that, they’ve done nothing but put out strong records that haunt you. “Novis Orbis Terrarum Ordinis” is another penetrating chapter in their creative history, another triumphant work of foreboding shadows you don’t see coming. One day people will wake up to their brilliance, but when that happens, it might be too late for us all.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://napalmrecords.com/deutsch/yearofthegoat/

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

It’s easy to struggle with everyday existence, even without in light of political and societal trauma that never, ever seems to slow down. Also consider what we deal with personally, the struggles we face constantly, the striving for meaning in our lives, and the desire to connect with something higher than ourselves that we can use as a guide to live our lives (not to oppress and harm others, as so many do).

Mizmor’s sole creator A.L.N. has confronted and wrestled with these things for years, and the personal toll has come out in his incredible output under this banner including the 2010 self-titled record, and 2016’s heavily lauded “Yodh.” All of that, great as it is, takes a backseat to “Cairn,” the brand-new Mizmor record that feels like it topples the world and brings the heavens down with it. On this four-track, hourlong opus, A.L.N. examines humankind’s futile effort for meaning in life, as well as his own dissolved relationship with God, pounding the listener with challenging, tough-to-face messages that could carve a hole right in your heart. Musically, it’s the most intense, harrowing Mizmor music yet, a titanic display that will overwhelm you on first listen and dig itself into your being on every visit.

“Desert of Absurdity” starts with acoustic waves before the track tears open, and the waves begin to lap violently. A.L.N.’s growls penetrate the surface as melody swims, and elegant doom crashes to the ground in drops of acid. The screams lurch and the sounds echo and sting, meanwhile the surface of the Earth is scorched, guitars well, and then coldness reigns, with the final moments feeling utterly sorrowful. “Cairn to God” runs a mammoth 18:03, the longest track on here, and things unfurl with noise flooding, all elements rising up, and shrieks tearing the walls apart. Doomy stomping is mixed with mystical sounds, while raw growls scrape at open wounds, and the track moves into slow-boiling hell. The track hulks along before blistering madness arrives, overwhelming doom strikes, and the track burns and gives off suffocating smoke. The track moves deliberately and heavily while the growls smear soot, the leads strike an emotional hypnosis, and cries and clean playing make up the emotional end.

“Cairn to Suicide” goes right for the throat with devastating playing and vicious growls bruising bodies. A heavy cloud cover threatens with darkness, and a low rumble makes it feel like you’re being dragged through a dank basement toward whatever that dripping sound is. As the song moves on, acoustics mix into the fray and spread before another explosion that spits ore and bones, causing pain and confusion before the final moments bring crashes and acoustic blur. “The Narrowing Way” closes the record, pushing over 16:40 and opening with an air rush and quiet tricking. The playing builds into a deluge complete with slithering pacing and growls crushing and slowly working to cut off air supplies. The playing pounds away and fills your head with noise, while drone rolls through, and jarring shrieks rob you of any sense of solace. Strange chants pass through ghoulishly, the vocals turn to death growls, and the leads glimmer and scream. All of those elements pile up, echo shatters all illusions, and the track extends itself until it finally stops moving.

No matter what we do and no matter how senseless it seems sometimes, we’re always going to push to figure out what everything means and what our place in the universe is. Through Mizmor, A.L.N. has been examining these ideas, as well as whether spirituality is worth anything, and that comes to a cataclysmic level on “Cairn,” this project’s mightiest, most provoking yet. This isn’t meant to be music that’s easy to make or absorb, and every drop of this album is challenging and rewarding no matter how much physical and emotional pain you’re in when it’s over.

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

To buy the album or for more on the label, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/