Things are so bleak and seemingly hopeless that you kind of have to laugh at it sometimes. What a shit pile. What goddamn parasites we have as our leaders. What a sickening society those bottom feeders have developed. If you can’t make a joke about it or be morbidly sarcastic, then it’s just horrors through and through. That can’t be good for you.

Irish death metal power Malthusian stared into the same dark abyss as we have, and they’ve used that disgust to conjure “The Summoning Bell,” a goddamn great record in a time of endless tumult. Draped over this record is death metal that feels warped and stretched into psychosis, and while the content here is pitch black, there also is dark humor wrapped into this, something you might miss if you don’t have the words. The band—guitarist/vocalist MB, guitarist TMK, bassist FB, drummer JK—builds on their already molten foundation they set on their 2018 debut “Across Deaths” and ensures that everything they create is encased in concrete and is ready to handle any oncoming attack.

“Isolation” is an instrumental opener awash in eeriness and strange auras, giving off a bit of a fantasy feel, but in an apocalyptic sense. Then we’re toward “Red, Waiting” that delivers instant fury, beastly playing driving your face into the earth, growls corroding alongside gutting power. Guitars stir as the pits of lava bubble, crumbling as roars send punches under your ribs, doomy fires spreading. The last moments are torn apart, folding on each other before disappearing into the earth. “Between Dens and Ruins” unloads, guitars storming as the roars mash, a relentless attack laying waste to your body and mind. Vile howls tear into sanity as the universe feels like it’s being torn apart, everything zapping into endlessness. The title track pours more doom thunder, the growls aching as the density multiplies, soot building up in your lungs. The leads destroy as hellish pressure causes dizzying conditions, monstrous howls buckle your knees, and a spiraling fury ends in a pool of horrors.

“The Onset of the Death of Man” is a quick instrumental, a chance to regain your footing as guitars trace in the dark, and the fog builds to troubling levels. “Eroded Into Superstition” attacks right away, the growls smothering, clubbing with viciousness and guitars that lather before going mystical. The pace reignites as the growls strangle, wild yells fold into psychosis, and the finish swallows you into hell. “Amongst the Swarms of Vermin” is a mammoth at 15:31, and it’s dark, trudging, and heated coming out of the gates, thrashing as guitars choke, and the shrieks rain fire. Meaty chaos arrives as guitars jar and melt, the pace then grinding a little slower but just as oppressively. Growls corrode as the guitars continue to fray, bruising as the tempo feels a little off kilter, increasing your body temperature. Guitars dart as growls mangle and choke, delivering a final gasp of infernal chaos that blackens eyes. Closer “In Chaos, Exult” is a strange one, a mostly instrumental piece (you can hear detached cries in the mix) that forms like an alien being, surrounding your mind with blackness. The back end feels like a fever dream, disturbing visions clouding your mind, keys layering and making your comfort levels plummet, slowly melting into time.

Malthusian’s death metal feels like it takes over every cell in your body, weighing down on you, making breathing a chore. “The Summoning Bell” is quite the force to behold as it’s a record that pours generous amounts of darkness and embodies the harshest elements of death metal when inspired by ashes. This is as heavy as it comes, and if you let it consume you fully, it’ll take forever to dig yourself out of your own grave.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.relapse.com/pages/malthusian-the-summoning-bell

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

Couple of weekends ago, I was having a beer that wasn’t quite doing it for me. My fridge isn’t normally decked out with beers as I only chill a few each weekend  because portion size even counts when you’re drinking. So, I went back to see if I had anything else cold, and all I had was an 8-ounce Belgian. Fuck, if it wasn’t exactly right.

Same could be said for Crypt Sermon’s new EP “Saturnian Appendices,” a four-track affair that still clocks in at nearly a half hour. The band—vocalist Brooks Wilson, guitarists Steve Jansson and Frank Chin, bassist/backing vocalist Matthew Knox, synth player Tanner Anderson, drummer Enrique Sagarnaga—had some material left over from the sessions that produced their excellent third album “The Stygian Rose,” and that is presented here as three new songs and a very intriguing cover of a black metal classic. Anyone subscriber to the Decibel flexi series has heard two of these cuts already, and for everyone else, this is fresh new material that hits just right. The serving size doesn’t matter; the quality does.

“Only Ash and Dust” fittingly has a fantasy vibe, the track trickling in before bursting in full. The playing is driving and dark, the chorus soars, guitars charge up as the pace blisters, “oh-oh” calls power, and a galvanizing spirit brings everything to a raucous end. “A Fool to Believe” is powerful, classic-style riffs taking off, the playing chugging and bruising bones. Guitars burn as the pace fires up harder, the chorus making blood jet through veins, Wilson’s tortured wails taking you down as he calls, “We’re here alone.” “Lachrymose” has keys dripping and the riffs blazing, gothy moments bubbling to the surface on the chorus, and even some deeper singing reaching into the guts. The tempo storms as soloing cuts laser-like into metal, and as Wilson howls, “There’s no tomorrow, so I spit on hallowed ground,” you can feel the energy and power in your bones. We end with a very different take on the Mayhem classic “De Mysteriis Doom Sathanas,” one that takes the drama into a slower, more shadowy realm. Wilson’s bellows work into the cracks, the playing sometimes feels liturgical, pacing the ritual, and the performance both pays homage to the creators and ends with something more sinister.

Even an appetizer from Crypt Sermon is worth stopping what you’re doing and indulging in full, as “Saturnian Appendices” fully delivers. While it may be a stop gap between records, the material here thrives and continues to add to the band’s legend, feeling fuller than many other full-lengths from other artists. This is a strong display that is well worth your time, even if it doesn’t demand as much of it as usual.

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

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

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

Metal and heavy music have enough bands that stick to their formulas and never stray too far from what helped make them. There’s a lot of sense in that as it can help build an audience that always comes back for more. But the ones that challenge all of that and constantly shred expectations are a little more interesting.

Canadian trio Völur have been making long-form doom dressed in violin and many other different sounds for more than a decade now, and their latest creation “Breathless Spirit” teams them with producer and sound designer CARES (James Beardmore) on another sweeping drama. On this record, Völur—Laura C. Bates (violin, electric violin, viola, cymbals, vocals), Lucas Gadke (electric bass, double bass, harmonium, keyboards, tanbur, clarinet, bass clarinet, vocals), Justin Ruppel (drums, percussion)—inform their folk-dusted doom with an Icelandic tale from the 13^th century called The Saga of Grettir the Strong about an outlaw hunted to the edges of the world. Over six tracks (some versions have eight), the band spills into inspiration culled over the centuries and turned into a metallic adventure that keeps taking twists and turns.

“Hearth” opens with string aching and rain following, the playing breezing as it feels moody and gentle. Cymbals crash as the playing swells, static builds tension, and things finally subside in the same precipitation. “Windbourne Sorcery I” feels folkish, its Persian and Kurdish elements coming to the front, a dusty path beaten as wordless chants permeate. Electric violin activates as deep Western vibes arrive, even if not intended, and wild wails break the peace, stirring and squeezing into “Windbourne Sorcery II.” There, the violin carves as softer singing chills flesh, working into echoes and calm as woodwinds bask in the sun before things are electrified again. Strings mourn as shrieks gnaw, the playing spiraling and paying off the anguish. The title track blurs as growls sink in their teeth, bruising with doomy playing, the chaos forming a mound of ash. The playing suddenly feels drawn into a cyclone, the playing mauling anew, jazzy keys making nerve endings activate. Gadke’s deep singing bellows before he’s joined by Bates, and they take the reins for the next stretch before the tension breaks, the violin scars minds, and everything blends into the horizon.

“On Drangey” rings out, calming strings putting your mind at ease, a mesmerizing atmosphere multiplying and making it feel like you’re in a dream state. The haze thickens as sounds quiver, melting into a fantasy land. “Death in Solitude” feels frigid, cold wind whipping, things taking a doomy turn into blackness. Growls hulk as a castle vibe is achieved, the melodies feeling sinister and trancey, and then the heat becomes a bigger factor. Howls menace as a death-like push gets harrowing and dramatic, chorals feeling angelic before the final combustion. Some versions have two bonus tracks, the first of which is “Glamr” that whirs and sparks hypnosis, haunting speaking intoxicating, distorted playing pulling at your mind. The mauling fury surfaces and spews like lava through cracks, smearing and eventually dissipating. “Flutterby Numbers” has the violin tracing memories, a classical feel permeating as if it was three centuries ago, the pressure mounting and eventually settling, slipping into mystery.

Völur’s creativity remains astonishing as they pull elements from throughout the ages from all parts of the world and melt that into their dramatic doom cauldron. “Breathless Spirit” is another interesting turn in another direction, a record that fills your imagination with possibilities and new colors you perhaps didn’t expect to encounter. Each Völur release is an adventure and cannot be properly anticipated sonically, which makes each time they return another unpredictable sonic gift.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://blackthroneproductions.com/en-us/products/volur-cares-diehard-edition-bundle

For more on the label, go here: https://blackthroneproductions.com/en-us

Any time you can put on a death metal record and instantly think it’s a declaration of war, that’s an experience you don’t forget. The power coming at you with a ferocity that explodes from deep in the guts can make your blood boil and motivate you want to pick up arms yourself to fight the good fight.

Canadian death metal horde Hedonist land in death metal’s pantheon with “Scapulimancy,” their flesh-pounding first record that could have slid into place in the early 1990s and been right at home. This record is a destroyer, 10 tracks of raw, feral death metal that can stare down any force in its path and never blink. The band—vocalist/bassist AJ, guitarists JP and AA, drummer CB—wastes no time unleashing hell and pouring it in generous amounts as they scorch flesh and dump napalm in alarming portions. The album is punishing from the start, but subsequent visits unlock even more torment and animalistic fire, making this incredibly sticky as well. 

“Execution Wheel” absolutely obliterates the senses when it dawns, AJ’s howls strangling with a killer’s might, an element that is one of the band’s most arresting. Death ravages as the guitars spill into beastly tones, and everything barrels forward the reckless abandon. “Heresy” is blinding, growls decimating, sounding nearly inhuman, the guitars standing up as a battering force with no mercy. The leads explode as the pace chugs, a hypnotic gaze conjures might, and everything burns into a cloud of dust. “Barbarian” is sickening and ferocious, trudging over bone and blood, growls sinking teeth deep into veins. The leads boil over as melody makes the path more hypnotic, the final moments breathing fire. “Abominated Void” is doomy as hell, the growls frying in the sun, the gutting power rising to the surface and blackening eyes. Guitars hang as the heat spreads, the bass chugs with deadly force, and everything bleeds away. “Parasitic Realm” starts with trickier guitars that mesmerize before the earth is scorched, deadly growls grasping throats. There’s a total Bolt Thrower worship spot that absolutely destroys, and that pushes into explosive and gutting tension that cuts open bellies.

The title track has riffs that spiral, a melodic haze that tricks the senses, and sooty growls that feel delivered from the gut. The playing tears open as the growls choke, the guitars sprawl and smother, and the final moments create utter decimation. “Engines of War” unloads guitars burning, growls slithering, and primitive pounding caving in rib cages. The playing jars loose as melodies wash over, snaking through and injecting venom before fading to dark. “Cremator” spews chugging bass and a thrashy attack that sends dust flying. The growls maim, the leads navigate through the chaos, and the end gurgles and spits out poison. “Profanation” is fast and ugly from the start, throaty howls totally commanding, infernal fury making the temperature rise dangerously. The pace blisters and tortures, taking on a bit of a D-beat feel before finally choking you out. Closer “Hidden Corpse” is mashing, aggravating flames and delivering abject heaviness. The pace is vicious as hell, riffs immersing themselves into liquified steel and coming out a new machine, shrieks stabbing, and the end sinking into molten pools.

Hedonist’s brand of classic death metal is violent for sure, always challenging, twisting into a chasm that should make your brain and body ache afterward. “Scapulimancy” is a raucous, ravaging debut record that you might find yourself indulging in over and over again as I did. This might take a few visits to really sink in, but when it does, it’s fucking over for you, and Hedonist will be your new master.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://southernlord.com/store/hedonist-scapulimancy-pre-order/

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

People are easy targets when it comes to the darkness we force on other people. We’re not always the most honorable beings inhabiting this earth, and that fact long has poisoned politics and religion and, as a result, the population in general. It’s a sickness we never seem to be able to overcome, and we’re largely to blame.

Prog metal force Moths are fully aware of this, and on their new record “Septem,” they use their prowess and impressive range of sounds to look at something that’s long plagued humans. This seven-track album is based on the seven deadly sins, with each track taking the name of one of them, and it’s a whirlwind of an experience. The band—vocalist Mariel Viruet, guitarists Jonathan Miranda and Omar González, bassist Weslie Negrón, drummer Daniel Figueroa—could fit in regions outside of metal, and they aren’t here for brutality front to back and are flush with melody. But the barbs are there, and if you’re not paying attention, they’ll snag you. Like these dreaded sins. 

“Sloth” is the opening instrumental, acoustic and folkish, the guitars taking on a bluesy swagger, washing through to “Envy” where things get a little grittier. Drums slink as Viruet’s smoky singing sets the pace, the playing picking up and heading into progressive waters, the guitars feeling properly spacey. The pace numbs before penetrating beneath the surface, the vocals commanding, and everything coming to a raucous end. “Greed” opens with growls snarling and the pace mashing, the singing returning to make blood flow harder, bruising heat doing its damage. Fuzzy, burly melodies thicken as the howls wrench, the cosmic void deepens, and the final moments make nerve endings tingle.

“Pride” has synth waves swimming, screams pushing into madness, and the richness getting thicker and more reflective. The band swings back to prog fire again, feeling like they’re channeling Rush in the early 1980s, the keys blasting and all elements building to a huge crescendo. “Lust” has the bass chugging and keys whirring, howls showing steely resolve as the drumming bustles. The singing soars as the guitars snake though pools of silver, disappearing into glimmering keys. “Gluttony” starts with tricky guitars and growls scraping flesh, the singing settling in and growing more intense, harsh growls exploding from the corners. The guitars race and trample as speed becomes a factor as they dash by colonies of stars. Closer “Wrath” brings menacing wails, darkness that grows into your cells, and sweltering melodies that increase the temperature. Things get dirtier and faster, Viruet’s singing bellowing, the pressure building, rampaging as the drums smash through the final gates.

Moths not only continue to expand their sound on “Septem,” but they also dig deeper into humanity’s darkest inhibitions and behaviors that are a part of all of us. This is a hard band to categorize, as they fit into so many different areas but never completely. That likely means they can’t be pigeonholed somewhere, and it might be hard for them to find a natural place to exist, but it also means their possibilities are limitless. Their next record could sound like anything, and that’s pretty exciting.

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

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

When you think of the New England region of the United States, you likely think of people too rich to ever acknowledge you (even if you’re on their side politically), and when it comes to metal, it tends to be of the more atmospheric bend. You don’t think of mental torture and black metal destruction, but perhaps it’s time to change that.

Ancient Torment, hailing from Rhode Island, have been doing their thing in one form or another for almost the past decade, and now we finally have their debut full-length “Follow the Echo of Curses” to behold. Taking on their infernal, beastly version of black metal makes it feel like landscapes burning to the ground, torment subjected on your soul. The band—vocalist Stygal, guitarists Tormentum and Apparition, bassist Czarnobóg, drummer Zealot—applies all their might to these six tracks and 42 minutes that take you apart and forever blacken their home territory forever.

“Hanging from a Dead Star” rips open, melodies raining, shrieks crushing amid a drubbing fury. Black metal spirits rise and ravage, the playing splattering guts, spirited chaos peaking and coming to an unforgiving end. “Spectre at the Crossroads” opens the blast furnace, shrieks powering as the guitars flex, agony spilling at flood levels, blazing forces pulling you under the havoc. Screams crush as the pace strangles, the leads cascading into further audio violence that is swept into the sea. “Sorrow Verses” starts in abject darkness, the vocals destroying as emotionally blistering insanity strikes. Colorful guitars dash hellish colors, the energy exploding from all seams, the keys giving off a gothy undertone, lathering in flooding punishment.

“Dejected Dreams Molested in Purgatory” is surprisingly melodic yet still gut-wrenching, grim howls and sharp shrieks pairing up, the playing bludgeoning. The pace turns fluid as shrieks rampage, the fire aggravated to mountains of ash. “Under the Guise of Virtue” lets loose and comes out swinging, guitars boiling over as the drums attack, the tempo drilling into your chest. The leads light up the sky as warbled singing drags you under the surface, the vocals taking their turn to blacken eyes before fading. Closer “Rotting Temperament” runs 8:59 and opens with corroded screams, a speedy gush, and an attack that’s channeled and vicious. Melodies spill as the drums overpower, the pace firing up harder and even feeling catchy in spots, carnage accumulating. The leads torpedo as feral screams echo, flooding the senses with final storm blasts.

Ancient Torment apply the pressure fully and ruthlessly on “Under the Guise of Virtue,” a record that can be nasty and also infectious within a matter of seconds. The band has done their job honing their craft and carving out a sinister sound in what can be a flooded world of black metal, and this album proves it. This is mean, hellacious, and completely powered by the most sinister of forces.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://eternaldeath.storenvy.com/products/36936707-ancient-torment-follow-the-echo-of-curses-cd

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

Loss comes in many forms, not always in the death of an important person in your life. It could be the dissolution of a relationship, an artistic partnership ending, a personal defeat. The result can be devastating, especially if it does revolve around one’s demise, and the grief and tumult can be overwhelming.

Grayceon’s amazing sixth record “Then the Darkness” feels like you’re diving right into the middle of a sea of madness, trying to figure out a way to carry on in the midst of a life-changing event that shakes you to your core. Over 11 tracks and nearly 70 minutes, the band—vocalist/cellist Jackie Perez Gratz, guitarist Max Doyle, drummer Zack Farwell—pours its progressive darkness in generous amounts, leaving hearts exposed, blood flowing from ravaged veins. There also is time for reminiscing, wondering, hoping, and mourning over an album that feels half as long as its running time and finds Grayceon as explosive and richly expressive as ever before. It’s a gem.

“Thousand Year Storm” opens warbling and spacey before things detonate, Perez Gratz’s shrieks peeling back bone, her singing floating along with the carnage. The cello ices as the playing grows more progressive, Perez Gratz wailing, “Tell them I am not well at all,” as the final punches land. “One Third” crunches, the singing sweltering, piling up rugged corners as melodies work to smooth the jagged edges. The force is blistering, howls punishing, the struggle cresting and lapping. “Velvet ‘79” has the cello wrenching, fluid playing coating your mind, Perez Gratz calling, ” It’s like a hazy dream, it’s like a velvet touch,” over the alluring chorus. Things feel fuzzy and psychedelic, the electricity charring as old memories work through dreams, an emotional pull gripping before dissipating. “3 Points of Light” dawns with metallic riffs, the crunchiest so far, and things swamp and swagger, adding a true rock n roll sense to the concoction. The singing swells as the riffs charge up, the more upbeat tempo and tones giving off a sense of nostalgia. “Mahsa” is the 20:02 centerpiece, a track that starts sorrowfully, Perez Gratz repeating, “I … I will kill … whoever killed my sister.” The playing plods as darkness falls and the tempo bruises, cello bringing an elegance and a power surge, guitars tracing as Perez Gratz sings, “When you find me, you’ll know I am the sun.” The playing is wondrous and also digs deeply, the pace changing and toying, slipping into the shadows. The melodies sail before the playing jars again, the guitars glimmering and fading into time.

The title track is an instrumental piece with cello powering, dark and melodic strains getting into your bloodstream, and everything swimming into 12:29-long “Forever Teeth” that immediately pulls you to a new vision. ” I stand on this shaky ground, but I want to stand up for my beliefs, and it’s all oh so bittersweet,” Perez Gratz levels, continuing to add different hues. The tension builds and grows more fiery, Perez Gratz howling, “Love! Lies!” as the pathway turns doomier, angling through existential wounds, coming to a sweeping and dramatic end. “Song of the Snake” sneaks in, dusty pathways pummeled, the heaviness taking charge and squeezing hard. “Ceasefire!” Perez Gratz howls, surely unaware when she wrote those words how relevant they would be right now. The storms hit harder, the drums crumble, and the tension rises before disappearing. “Holding Lines” has the drums bruising and strings teasing, the playing chugging as Perez Gratz calls, “I’m here where you are.” The blows land harder as Perez Gratz asks, “Why can’t we hold the line?” which could be taken as why can’t we make an effort to keep people safe? It’s ominous and cosmic from there, washing into the distance. “Untitled” has gentle, hushes tones, cello rippling, the melodies gliding and easing into a rustic atmosphere. Things get heavier as the strings stitch everything together, the guitars finally liquifying. Closer “Come to the End” blasts in, immediately grabbing your attention, Perez Gratz wailing, “Do you really think I would ever walk away from you, my love?” There are easier moments and other where the force bustles anew, shrieks tearing, the elements giving off thick smoke, Perez Gratz declaring, “As above, so below,” as the tornadic elements cool and fade. 

“Then the Darkness” is one of the most ambitious and, at the same time, heartfelt records in Grayceon’s illustrious catalog, and this is for anyone lost, looking to pick up the pieces, and simply trying to survive. It might be tough to dedicate an entire listening session to this album, but you really should make time, put away everything else, and absorb this. The music is heavy and enchanting, the emotions are human and raw, and this is a journey we’re all going to take at some point, so it’s a gift to have music that so brutally relates.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://translationloss.com/collections/grayceon-collection

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

Death metal that feels particularly gruesome is a nice way to treat the brain after enduring countless real-life atrocities driven by having the gall to try to keep up with daily events. That feeling of horror and bloodshed that isn’t playing out on your phone or television can be weirdly comforting, taking your mind to somewhere morbid in a different way?

Seattle-based death metal destroyers Re-Buried provide the perfect diversion from daily chaos and instead import you into the world of blood-splattering horrors and gruesome skullduggery. “Flesh Mourning,” their second album, is pure, real death metal that makes your insides feel disgusting and that would make anyone new to this type of music recoil in horror. This isn’t Hot Topic shit. No offense. The kids need a gateway after all. Instead, the band—vocalist Chris Pinto (also of Fõrn), guitarists Paul Richards (who also add Wurlitzer, if you can believe it), Ed Bingaman, and Daniel Racines, bassist Clayton Wolff, drummer Alex Bytnar—rubs your face in the blood and guts and delivers an ugly battering that will warp your brain.

“Obitual Illusion” drills open with guitars scuffing and growls retching vomitously, smothering with ugly hammering. The dire mentality continues as the punishment grinds, the howls blur, and everything bleeds into a gutter. “Jagged Psyche” rushes with guitars blistering, guitars cutting into flesh, growls hissing in horror. The leads swelter as beastly carnage accrues, the growls belching into eerie keys and abject horror. “Rotted Back to Life” has the bass buzzing and a slow, doomy storm rumbling, eventually turning headlong into battering guitars work. Deep growls gut as the heaviness pierces organs, crushing with menace. “Chainsaw Ritual” starts with, obviously, a saw firing up, howls mauling, and an infernal, sooty attack choking. The brutality floods dangerously, torture peaking, crushing to the final gory moments.

The title track has guitars encircling, the growls sickening, and the pace decimating, the playing slowly picking up steam. The punishment crawls but mangles, the humidity grows to unmanageable levels, and growls spit stomach acid from the guts. “Pestilence Fog” starts with guitars carving through flesh, doomy waters lapping with blackness, death stirring and driving into madness. A calculated beating drags bodies over the earth, and growls snarl, the playing cutting down everything before it. “Putridity in Existence” slowly unfurls, the heat rising noticeably, growls boiling in blood as the muscular chaos flexes. Pained howls jar as the guitar work tangles brain wiring, the tempo swaggers, and the growing ash collects and heads into sinister instrumental closer “Cold Blood.” This is a fitting, unsettling end with visions of strange horror conjured by the guitars, the spirit getting blacker and uglier before being pulled from your imagination.

Reburied certainly make their best effort at claiming the mantle of one of death metal’s most disgusting, destructive bands on “Flesh Mourning.” Strains of their doom past make things icier and more nausea inducing, and they succeed with every inch of terror folded into this creation. This is not easily digestible death, it’s not polished, and it goes right for the jugular, which  should find favor with anyone looking for something gruesome and unforgiving.

For more on the band, go here: https://re-buried.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://translationloss.com/collections/re-buried-collection

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

A good thrash record should serve up a lot of different things to you while your brain is being ground into a paste. As noted too many times, having cut my teeth on thrash, I’m terribly particular about this style, and I don’t think the subgenre has grown well. But there still are a lot of bands doing it right, and Bloodletter is one of them.

As I said, thrash records often spray you with songs about various topics, most of them grim, many times horror based. “Leave the Light Behind,” the Chicago-based band’s fourth band, jumps out of the gates immediately lamenting the rotting state of the world and visiting fantasy elements, pestilence, mental issues, and nightmares among other things. The band—vocalist/guitarist Pete Carparelli, guitarist Pat Armamentos, bassist Tanner Hudson—delivers the goods over and over on 10 tracks and 35 minutes, reminding of the power and ferocity of thrash metal when it’s goddamn done right.

“A World Unmade” opens as a total assault, punchy and screamy, feeling a lot like Kreator, which it does throughout. Which certainly isn’t a bad thing. “The is the ruin of our making,” Carparelli howls, a lava-rich solo overflowing, mashing to the end. “On Blackened Wings” is urgent and furious, melodic leads ripping, an attack rising that threatens your well-being. Howls stretch as the colors burst, guitars adding more drama to the end. “Eternal Winter” has guitars flooding, the band leaning toward death, the drums blasting in areas. “The wind is its voice, the snow is its will,” Carparelli wails, adding a freezing menace to the song and the story, the guitars blurring and spreading out the madness. “Terminal” brings creaky howls, jarring melodies, and  Carparelli calling, “Trapped inside a prison of my mind.” The track gets more morbid, digging into mental wounds, burying bones in the dirt. “Unearthing Darkness” is speedy as hell, the vocals spat, warnings of violence plowing through the verses. The chorus flexes as the soloing unloads, guitars glimmering and making you shield your eyes from the pressure.

“Hunting Horror” trudges through the weeds, the guitars bubbling, Carparelli screaming, “Blood red eyes glow in the night,” the playing pressing against veins. The words vow revenge as their teeth sink in, the shouts of, “Devour! Destroy!” bruising. “The Black Death” is a little too uncomfortable for our own good considering where we are in 2025, and it’s a punisher, Carparelli wailing, “Life is the debt, suffering is the payment.” The playing is fast and mashing, strong soloing tearing through the void and into bone. “Call of the Deep One” has tricky riffs and darkness spreading, monstrous growls squeezing with all their might, moody soloing melting away thickening ice. The playing is a full force as the vocals terrify, the back end plowing into damnation. “Night Terrors” brings nightmares to life, the playing growing in strength, Carparelli howling, “Each breath grows heavier, I may not last.” The power rumbles through the ground, the guitars galloping and ending in ashes. Closer “The Burial” opens with eerie keys, and then everything tears open, screams mashing, the playing smashing pavement. “Wishing I could wake from this hell,” Carparelli shouts, the playing continuing to splatter (guest Nate Madden’s soloing adding more electricity), the keys that greeted you luring you into a mesmerizing fog.

Bloodletter’s classic sound, smearing brutality, and mix of real-life and fantastical horrors makes for a high point on “Leave the Light Behind.” This is a real step up for a band that already was operating at a high level, but this album should really open up a lot of eyes, especially for those who have fallen asleep on thrash. It’s a bruiser from start to finish, and it’s one that’s easy to revisit over and over.

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

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

Or here: https://wisebloodrecords.8merch.com/

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