Imagine how much better Earth likely would be without people. First, we’re awful stewards to this planet, you know, if science is to be believed, and we don’t even treat each other all that well, resulting in poor relations among so many people, especially if you happen not to be in a ruling class. Or at least look like you are.

Cleveland’s Axioma had some of those ideas rolling around in their heads when it came time to write their first record “Crown.” They looked at the ways humankind has tried to exert control over people over many systems (religion, you def can put your fucking hand down) and how that’s resulted in others being beaten down and essentially enslaved. Many of those systems also have led to the destruction we’re done/are doing/won’t stop doing to a planet that just might murder us in a few decades, and who could possibly blame it? Axioma bring a wealth of experience from other band such as Keelhaul, Brain Tentacles, Forged in Flame, Jesus Egg and plenty others as its members—bassist/vocalist Aaron Dallison, guitarists J. Meyers and Cyril Blandino, and drummer Jon Vinson—forge black metal, doom, some crust, and other destructive elements that make up this nine track, 45-minute record that also includes a really interesting cover track that we’ll get to later.

“Sacred Killing Machine” opens the record with filthy exchanges, raspy growls and screams mixing together, and the track going cold right as its hits molten levels. “Holy genocide, hell upon barren earth,” Dallison howls as savagery runs amok, and the track ends in a pile of molten ash. “Roots” bleeds in, coming in clean at first as the music streams, and guitars begin extending their reach. Vicious vocals push as the playing stymies before it opens its jaws and begins devouring earth whole. That leads to devastating menace as the riffs bring the track to a killer end. “Harvest of Tongues” is a quick instrumental piece that has guitars hovering in the air, bringing an atmospheric charge that shoves into “Cult of Moloch” and its fire-breathing opening. “Bring the child forth, giveth the seed as offering, the deity shall be appeased,” Dallison rages as guitars charge up, and corrosive playing chews away at flesh and muscle. The track charges hard, leaving a sooty residue, with everything melting into chaos.

“Ascending the Mountain of Divinities” folds in with quiet, reflective guitar work, giving off a sense of calm as cymbals lightly crash, and then the tranquility changes over to hell. “The chosen few, called from above, claw your way to the altar,” Dallison wails as riffs crush and meaty thrashing ensures those bruises won’t go away any time soon. The guitars truck later as the growls scrape, and everything ends in a fiery mess. “Vessels for Migration” is an instrumental piece that’s spacey and bubbly, making your brain feel weird, and that leads into that cover we spoke of, their take on Massive Attack’s “Angel.” I wasn’t paying attention to track listing first time I heard this, so their reading took me by surprise, but when Dallison shouts, “You are my angel, I love you love you love you love you,” it sets right in. It’s everything most covers are not, in that they don’t just puke back the song; they figure out a way to put their own mark on it. “Feral Deities” is strange, with synth blips and a bizarre ambiance that leads to the song crashing through the cloud cover and powdering bones. The storm swirls as the assault gets more vicious, the growls destroy wills, and everything comes to an apocalyptic end. “Auto Da Fe” ends the album as drums pace the movement, and a slow ride picks up, complete with gazey wonder. “Dogma unleashed, civility questioned, heretical plague, threatens the crown,” Dallison shouts as the song leaves scars and tortured wounds before everything is sucked into spacey weirdness and trickles away.

Axioma’s take and views of the state of mankind are sadly right on the nose, and the music on “Crown” is a sobering and violent wake-up call to heed before things get to be too late. Though, who are we kidding? Change is as likely to happen as this site making me wealthy. But we can’t say we haven’t been warned, as the slap in the face we need is delivered over the course of 45 minutes of raw power.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://translationlossrecords.bigcartel.com/

Or here (cassette): https://hibernationrelease.bigcartel.com/

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

And here: https://www.facebook.com/hibernationrelease/

Horror and devastation should be a given when digging into most death metal records. They are the initial ingredients that baked up this horrible stuff some three decades ago, and they remain vital components that keeps this creative havoc in the underground to this day.

Rumbling out of Santa Fe, NM, come Superstition, a band hellbent on keeping the basic tenets of death metal vital and killing, and the display they put on with debut record “The Anatomy of Unholy Transformation” is one that helps strengthen the line from Morbid Angel, Death, and Autopsy to the current and keeps that foundation as putrid and bloody as humanly possible. Bringing with them hellish experience in other bands including Predatory Light, Vanum, and Ash Borer, this unit—guitarist/vocalist L.S., guitarist/keyboard player K.M., bassist D.J., and drummer D.M.—grab handfuls of your brain matter and just twist and chew on them. Over nine tracks that run an ideal 34:20 in length, the band keeps traditional death violent and hammering, which should please any fan of the genre whether they caught on in the 1990s or just came along recently.

“Unholy Transformation Pt. 1” opens the record, a quick instrumental starter built by eerie synth, lurching growls, and monstrous weirdness that pulls right into “Highly Attuned Beasts of the Dark,” where things get off to a fiery beginning. The band lands multiple punches, with LS howling, “Under death’s standards march the rotten hordes, unrepentant.” Leads swim through the crazed pace with the sounds bending and the track spitting broken teeth. “Spiritual Sunderance” has leads fluttering before a nasty neck-jerking pace arrive, and the vocals are utterly savage as LS wails, “The banal pleasures of decay enraptured, pierced by manifold eyes, succor the afflicted with ample rot, like grief suspended in spheres of agony.” The pace gets slurry and disorienting in spots, but everything hits full throttle again, with the song ending in a power blast. “Unholy Transformation Pt. II” is a quick interlude that feels icy and strange, making your flesh crawl as it works its way into your mind.

“Passage of Nullification” has distorted leads, ample crunch, and the growls cutting through flesh and bone, leaving blood spatter. The playing is smothering in spots, with the leads exploding, the pace stomping, and the track fading out. “Torn in the Outer Lands” has riffs attacking and aggravate growls, as LS cries, “Fast in the fire, torn in the outer lands, glutted on gods, extinguished.” The playing causes disorientation and dizziness, while the soloing blares and switches off, letting its assault makes its way into and through your chest cavity. “Unreclaimed Blood (Phantom Swan)” bursts open with the guitars going for broke, mangling growls adding to the blood spill, and relentless chugging crushing you and leaving you gasping for air. Soloing screams out, the band fires up, and the track comes to a blistering end. “Unholy Transformation Pt. III” is the final interlude, a spooky synthscape that brings cosmic terror, setting the stage for closer “Charnel Pleasures” that’s the longest song of the bunch at 7:21. The track is a smasher from the start, an ideal album ender where the band goes for broke. Growls echo in the madness while the thrashing devastates, doomy gusts block out the sun, and insane soloing rips through sanity and time, as the band fires up for a big finish before a sound funeral washes over the end.

Superstition’s to-the-grindstone brand of death metal is traditional and exciting, a crushing experience from front to back when you take on “The Anatomy of Unholy Transformation.” Even though they remain true to the roots, this band also isn’t regurgitating anyone else’s vibe or sound. They have their very own that’s overwhelming and punishing, and each second of this record is here to bring annihilation and waves of panic.

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

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

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

Every time we visit some of the legends of our world, we try to remind that these people won’t be here forever, and one day, their incredible work will be in the past and removed from the present. People are going to see a goddamn Dio hologram, which just goes to show you how much fans miss the past once it’s relegated to history.

To be totally honest, I was worried the members of Memoriam might have met their match when they released their second record “The Silent Vigil” last year, an album that paled in comparison to their thunderous 2017 debut “For the Fallen.” Karl Willetts, longtime frontman for death metal stallions Bolt Thrower, sounded weathered for the first time in his career, and it was tough to give that album a lot of visits because it was tough to hear. His mates Scott Fairfax (guitars), Frank Healy (bass), and Andrew Whale (drums) also didn’t sound quite as inspired, and maybe they had just come back too soon after their first one. When the band’s third record “Requiem for Mankind” showed up in the inbox several weeks ago, mixed feelings washed over me, but I knew I’d dig in right away, hoping the disappointment from “Vigil” could be buried. Luckily, that’s just what happened, as Memoriam sound like a band revived, and Willetts is the goddamn force we’ve always know, barking with authority as his bandmates thrash away with hunger and savagery, like they have something to prove.

“Shell Shock” gets the record off to a savage start as the mashing begins and Willetts howls, “There is no escape, you scream, nobody hears!” Killer riffs whip into a storm with the band thrashing hard, as Willetts’ howls of awaiting execution crush, bringing things to a humid, punchy end. “Undefeated” is fiery and crunchy as the double-kick drums do their part, and over the chorus Willetts demands, “No retreat, no respite,” as the band shows utter defiance. “Never the Victim” has a sorrowful start amid abject heaviness, though the song is a reminder not to take time for granted, as one day it will pass you by. “Live for today, nothing lasts,” Willetts calls while the band backs him with melodic assaults and pummeling power. “Austerity Kills” is a blast back against authority trying to keep people down, and it surges hard with mean growls as Willetts smashes those who oppress the poor as well as greedy corporations, with the track seeking to mangle those very targets. “In the Midst of Desolation” blows in with a purpose, dealing heavy blows, with Willett’s crying, “With life now gone, there’s nothing left.” Guitars spiral as the heat builds, while the song imagines drifting off among the stars to float forever.

“Refuse to Be Led” is more atmospherically melodic than most Memoriam songs, with Willetts declaring, “Time has come to make a stand,” before the chains are torn off and the beatings begin. The song remains defiant but approachable, with the call of, “Refuse to obey, refuse to comply,” delivered as a battle cry. “The Veteran” has swaggering riffs and a slugier feel, feeling like it crawled out of New Orleans. “None can see the horror I’ve done,” Willetts admits, while the band delivers heavy metal fire that feels hot and sticky. The title track delivers a heaping dose of doom, pushing its way in and refusing to relent. The chorus is a simple call-back of the title, which is effective, while the rest is cement heavy and lethal. “Fixed Bayonets” has a chunky beginning with a tempo that crushes and Willetts relaying tales of fighting in close quarters, cheek to cheek, battling back to “destroy the enemy.” The band does a fine job conveying the panic and violence, as the song ends in pulverizing manner. “Interment” is an instrumental closer that’s moody and humid, casting a pall over the horrors and bloodshed of war, letting the heart and mind reflect on the price that has been paid.

It’s awesome to hear Memoriam crushing on all cylinders, making strong, relevant death metal that is plastered all over “Requiem for Mankind.” In fact, this record could tangle with their debut in the battlefield any day of the week, and it’s anyone’s guess which would come out on top. This is massive artillery fire from a group of savvy veterans who remain masters of their craft, small speed bump aside.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Memoriam2016/

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.nuclearblast.com/en/shop/index.html

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

The reasons for a band making new record can be a million-fold from a natural process the players have set out, to wanting to have a reason to go tour, to wanting to make some extra money. Totally kidding about that last part. Pretty sure no one’s doing it for that reason anymore. But other artists need very specific needs met before they unleash new music on the public.

Long-running classic heavy metal band The Lord Weird Slough Feg (they’re added the “Lord Weird” back to their name after many years) never have been your ordinary group, and their motivations are not the same as everyone else. So, when it came time to create the music that would make up their 10^th album “New Organon,” they didn’t just want to crank out two handfuls of songs and just go with it. Vocalist/guitarist Mike Scalzi, himself busy enough at his job as a professor of Philosophy at a California college, discusses in the bio materials accompanying the music the process of creating and working and destroying songs that they just didn’t feel and only choosing to present the songs that made them feel excited and want to commit the tracks to permanence. Add to that, Scalzi dug into his own class notes for lyrical inspiration, and the album title itself is a reference to English philosopher Francis Bacon’s 1620 book of the same name calling for a revolution in scientific method, as he felt work had grown stagnant. It’s heady stuff presented by the band—rounded out by guitarist Angelo Tringali, bassist Adrian Maestas, and new drummer Jeff Griffin (he shared studio duties with John Dust)—on this riff-driven, story-filled 10-track, 37-minute record that’s brimming with majesty and power.

“Headhunter” gets the record off to a big start with strong riffs and Scalzi’s gravelly vocals noting, “Sunken heads piled to the sky.” As the track moves on, he wails, “Whispered prayers forgotten as they fall,” as the chorus launches, and the track is off to a steady gallop that reprises the first verses before blistering out. “Discourse of Equality” has pummeling riffs as Scalzi scolds, singing about the “chains of misery” as the pace stomps along. The leads charge as wild howls enter the mix, all ending in fire. “The Apology” has a driving bassline and is the first of a few with a nice folkish backbone, even though its heavy as hell. Scalzi sings of imprisoned philosopher Socrates waiting as execution nears, with a strong chorus sending power. The Romans make Socrates drink hemlock, wailing, “Off with his head,” as the track comes to a wiry finish. “Being & Nothingness” is super charged out of the gates, with cool dual guitar melodies and Scalzi opining, “Existence is my crime.” The guitars band together, and killer soloing lights up and heads into the night. The title cut is a stomping fury from the start, digging into Bacon’s text, with Scalzi calling, “The sum of my knowledge will conquer the earth.” Soloing erupts and bleeds over the track, with things seemingly coming to an end, only to ramp up again for another charge.

“Sword of Machiavelli” has a start-stop beginning, weirder vocals, and a folkish punch right in the gut. “One victim of Mephistopheles, one victim to die by the sword,” Scalzi howls amid guitars sprawling, the low-end chewing, and a mad cackle to take things out. “Uncanny” lands punches with some nice double-kick drum action, and the singing is uncharacteristically higher than usual. There also are heavy waves of nostalgia simply from them stoking fires from the ’70s, soloing aggravated the senses, and the guitars rise and leave together. “Coming of Age in the Milky Way” has a warm, psychedelic haze washing over, a playful vibe, and Scalzi wailing, “Survival’s my only crime,” calling back to a similar line from “Being & Nothingness,” though I’m not sure that’s intended. Soloing slices in and glows, while the path is ground beneath them. “Exegesis – Tragic Hooligan” has a spirited opening, classic guitar work, and Scalzi poking, “You painted the scene when you were so green, now the colors you chose seem so obscene,” amid melodies that feel a little sad, even despite moments of glory. Closer “The Cynic” is a total curveball, as the band sinks into a 1960s-style melody, and a poppy one, that they work into their metallics. The track feels like a proper show ender, with Scalzi calling, “I tried to imitate myself causing pain,” as the emotion builds, and the track breezes away.

The Lord Weird Slough Feg have made some of the most honest, traditional heavy metal over their nearly 30 years together, and “New Organon” is another strong blast from a band that seemingly is immune to trends. Remaining true to their artistic senses paid off for them again, and this record is punchy and a blast to visit repeatedly as these stories work their way into your head. No one sounds quite like them, and that’s for the best as it would be foolish to try to top them at their game.

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

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

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

My first true pathway into extreme forms of metal was through thrash, a sub-genre on which I overly indulged when I was growing up. It was the form of music that made me see some of the glam stuff I was into as a little silly (I’ve opened my mind back up a little bit to that in recent years because Dokken is fucking fun) and made that slide into death and black metal that much easier. It also makes me hesitant to embrace newer bands that try their hands at the sound.

I’ve not been overwhelmed with the most recent waves of thrash metal because I’m old and tired and set in my ways and mostly miserable. That doesn’t mean I’m not willing to let myself be surprised now and again, and Unspeakable Axe has done a nice job finding these bands, their latest being Atlanta’s Sadistic Ritual, one of the gnarlier groups playing this sound. Their first full-length is “Visionaire of Death,” and it’s a nasty animal that slides a little bit into death metal and leaves you with a bloodied mouth (it’s being released in conjunction with Boris Records). The band—guitarist/vocalist Charlie Southern, guitarist Alex Parra, bassist Shawn Staszko, drummer Joe Sweat—has been together since 2009 and released a series of smaller things before they got here, and that time together sharpening their teeth results in a punchy, brutal 10 tracks in a trim, nicely paced 37:40 that doesn’t overstay its welcome and leaves you wanting more.

The title track opens things up with warbled backwards messaging before the track breaks open and fries faces. The pace is fiery as hell, while Southern’s screams shred, the guitars go off, and things end in a crazed haze. “…In Cold Blood” is speedy as hell with raspy howls riffs pummeling, and a simple, but effective chorus giving you more than you can handle. This song just crushes. “Double Crossed” has a fiery start as the riffs go for broke, the drums punch you open, and the bass hunts you like prey. The track delivers relentless shots, wailing you over and over before ending in madness. “Executioner” also brings the speed as gritty growls lead the way, and the pace chugs and chews. The track is vicious as hell, fast and violent, with cool fluid soloing working its way in before the song comes to a bludgeoning end. “Mutually Assured Destruction” charges out of the gates and, in almost no time at all, is in a vicious sprint. Throaty vocals add to the fury, while the track maintains dangerous intensity and ends abruptly.

“Civil Unrest” jars and crushes as the vocals are spat out, and Southern wails about being “anarchy obsessed.” The guitars churn while the chorus brings things to the ground, and a splattering soloing caps off this short but deadly track. “Malicious Misanthrope” has mangling vocals, a pace that destroys worlds, and a burst of speed that can darken a city. Strong soloing opens and swells, while the track is left to bleed out on its own. “Death Shriek” is over before you know it, a 1:15-long monster that mixes more punk into its thrash DNA, has clobbering shrieks, and even delves into proggy soloing before barreling its way toward “Merciless Retribution” and its ground-and-pound assault. Gang shouts erupt while meaty riffs add to the attack, the growls drip with menace, and everything comes to a smashing end. Closer “Cerebral Sacrifice” is the longest song here, running a healthy eight minutes, of which the band makes good use. The playing pounds away with relentless intensity, throat-mangling howls charge, and the intensity is turned up even higher as the band sharpens their teeth. Later on, the terror mixes into cold, chilled playing, and out of that the chaos rises again, muscle is torn from bone, and the final moments revel in a violent haze that ends your experience in hypnosis.

Sadistic Ritual restore hope that perhaps thrash can be something inventive, dangerous, and fun again, and it doesn’t have to be about repeating tropes. “Visionaire of Death” is meaty and bloody, a good beating that you don’t mind sustaining because you’re enjoying yourself along the way even as open wounds begin to scream with pain. This band is here to beat the hell out of you, and they never fail to carry out that deadly mission.

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

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

Or here: https://boris-records.com/

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

And here: https://borisrecords.bandcamp.com/

Photo by Crystal Seth

Not that there’s ever a good time for it, but the hot months are the worst time for decay. When I was a kid, we lived near the woods, and a deer bit it somehow, and the stench carried over the neighborhood for days until the source was discovered. That scent is, like, imprinted in my brain and never will go away. In fact, let me go puke.

Where was I going with this? Oh, right, “Steeping Corporeal Mess,” the debut LP from Pacific Northwest-based death crawlers Fetid, who created a record that’ll stink even worse now that it’s hot and unforgiving here in the U.S. Every trip I’ve had with this has taken me back to those days when the disgusting deer corpse was rotting away, and all we could smell was death. These five tracks are perfectly encapsulated simply in the title of the record, as that’s exactly what this thing sounds like. It’s putrid, disgusting, and practically bubbling in blood and guts not-so-freshly drawn from its victim. Perfectly dosed over 32 minutes, the band—guitarist/vocalist Clyle Lindstrom, bassist Chelsea Loh, drummer/vocalist Jullian Rhea—unleashes the worst of the worst, doom-smeared death metal that’s often delivered torturously slowly but that also hits the gas now and again to ensure your stomach gets jerked around, and you get really nauseous.

“Reeking Within” gets us started amid noise chewing at your nerve endings and then a trudging wave of death going for your neck. Grim growls slither through the dirt while the track lurches along, with the pace leaving bruising. The bass then fires up and the band batters your senses, picking up speed later on and splintering bone, the growls devastating, and the track crushing to its final resting place. “Cranial Liquescent” has thick bass lines providing a foundation while the playing causes dizziness, and the growls boil in bodily fluid. The leads go off, while the screams pierce your ear drums, and then things slow down into humid doom. The area gets smudgy and feral as things re-open, the sludge makes your footing almost impossible, and the track levies its final punishment.

“Consumed Periphery” is utterly brutal, picking up thickened blood and then opening the gates to complete terror. The song goes off into speed and dirt, blinding you and leaving you struggling for corners as the leads soar and everything ends in a mess of discarded tissue. “Dripping Sub-tepidity” will have your head spinning at first, as the song is fast and smothering as it tries to bash in your skull. The bass playing begins to pile on, and then an insane assault breaks out with the leads catching fire and the vocals sinking its teeth into your flesh. The guitars spiral out of control, the playing stymies, and everything turns black. “Draped in What Was” ends the album with an extended intro complete with B-movie-style synth, almost like the opening credits are rolling. Then the doomy chaos emerges, as the track takes its time laying waste, destroying wills and crumbling the earth. Soot is smeared in mouths and faces while infernal growls utter their last, and the track ends in putridity.

Fetid’s arrival into death metal’s filthy ranks is a very welcome one, albeit one that’ll have your guts churning for weeks on end once you finish tangling with “Steeping Corporeal Mess.” This record is mean and nasty, with very little regard for pristine performance or spit shine, as they just go for the jugular and remove any sense of hope. This is that rotting body in the midday summer sun, providing a disgusting experience for everyone around it and making you want to cover your eyes, even though you know you can’t look away.

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

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

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

The nighttime is the home of eeriness, the time when the strangest, most mysterious things happen as creatures lurk in the shadows. Storms are always equally comforting and frightening, as lightning dashes across darkened rooms, and thunder can yank you from your sleep. It’s always when we feel most vulnerable as well, fearing intruders or any spirits lurking in search of us.

No matter how long I’ve listened to Texas-based duo Pinkish Black, despite the amount of times I’ve visited to their records, I’m never able to shake the feeling that their music is a mysterious entity in the room waiting for me to let down my guard. Their chilling, alien keyboards and driving rhythms combine elements of doom, industrial, and synthwave, and immersing yourself in their music means leaving yourself prone to their flesh-crawling compositions that creep inside your bones and haunt you forever. The band’s darkly immersive fourth record “Concept Unification” reveals a more imaginative but also morbid version of the band that never lets you even touch comfort, much less know it intimately. The pairing of vocalist/keyboardist/synth player Daron Beck and drummer/synth player Jon Teague dig down for their darkest emotions and ideas and slowly weave them through these six tracks (eight if you buy it digitally) that chew on your nerve endings and leave you in a cold sweat.

The title cut opens the record by bleeding in under the door, synth sheets dropping, and sounds floating, as Beck’s voice feels detached from reality, like a lobotomized soul. The track turns sleepy and hypnotic as words warble, the keys glow, and the track ends in echo. “Until” has keys fluttering as the pace picks up, and the vocals are far more direct. Things feel apocalyptic, as keys zap, the plying gets burly, and Beck insists, “It was nothing that you thought it would be, and you will throw it all away in the end,” as the track corrodes and fades. “Dial Tone” is one of the best songs here, one that feels like you’re in the midst of an uneasy dream. The track unfurls, the singing splashes in echo, and the ambiance is surreal as Beck calls, “I call and talk to dial tones,” almost as if he’s not with it. Strange keys then blare as the final moments shimmer. “Petit Mal” is an instrumental piece that has keys dancing electronically, mixing into proggy movements, then feeling like the soundtrack to an early 1980s abduction film before it bleeds into a trance.

“Inanimatronic” follows, another instrumental piece, that emerges with noises striking as the sounds crawl around and numb the senses. Sounds vibrate while the music sifts through the clouds, floating ghostlike over everything before slipping into static. “Next Solution” is the 11:59-minute closer if you have the physical version, and it’s a classic Pinkish Black epic that has clean keys dripping, the singing quivering, and the drama striking on high. The song moves slowly before getting rougher with the low-end rumbling and Beck crooning with his smooth, dark singing. The pace spills as mystery picks up, with the synth flooding and zany sounds stinging. As we wind to a close, the music gets muddier in spots, the pace and singing slur, and everything drains into the stars. The digital version contains two more songs, the first being “Away Again” that’s a virtual sound scape with sleepy synth lines, ambient drone, and more deep singing, with all these elements helping melt away your inhibitions. “We Wait” is direct and built on industrial knocks, honey-rich singing, and keys smearing as Beck continually laments, “We sit back and sleep, they eat away, and we wait.”

Pinkish Black’s ghoulish tendencies and absolute commitment to discomfort are as rich as ever on “Concept Unification,” a record that’s a logical extension from where the band had traveled before. Your skin and innards are likely to crawl, as the waves of sound wash over you and make you see strange visions. The night isn’t always the safest place to be, and Pinkish Black’s music is a stark reminder that if you’re not wary of what’s around the corner, it easily could be your end.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://store.relapse.com/b/pinkish-black

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

There are plenty of horrors that go on in our own plane of existence, our own planet, that can you imagine what might be happening in planets and galaxies beyond our own? We can’t be the only people who are out to push our influences on others, who try to exert our own strengths, and find ways to be dominant. Good thing closer planets and stars near us aren’t inhabited. What might we do to them?

Chicago sci-f-powered death metal bruisers Nucleus have been imaging what might be transpiring in the universe, something at which they’ve been busy ever since forming in 2012. On their second LP “Entity,” the follow-up to 2016’s “Sentient” (though thematically this picks up from their split “Fragmented Self” alongside Macabra), they unleash eight more immersive, violently creative cuts ensconced in a story about a bizarre shape-shifting force that forms in deep space, looking to exert its terror across the universe. A group of beings from multiple worlds, many alien to each other, must fight back to resist and destroy its push. It’s a story maybe too relatable and a little scary if, say, all of Earth’s leaders had to get their collective shit together, which is another thread you can think about during this album. The band—guitarists/vocalists Dave Muntean and Dan Ozcanli, bassist Ryan Reynolds, drummer Pat O’Hara—put their own alien-like imprints on their brand of death metal and keep your imagination bubbling as you take this enthralling 38-minute journey.

Fittingly, the record kicks off with “Arrival,” as a weird bassline slithers in before the track bursts with force. Weird, spacey growls and a proggy fury combine to fuel the engine, while the guitars go off, smearing soot in your face. Soloing lights up at the end, as growls devour everything, leading the title track into the room that begins hammering right away. Guitars blind while the pace chugs, and the drums loosen weak parts of your skull. Later on, the guitars stab in a show of progressive violence before things hit orbit and collide with “Uplift” and its confounding guitar assault. The track blasts and lets your head swim in chaos, while the guttural growls eat into the ground, and tricky thrashing emerges. Fluid soloing whips, while the aggression is magnified before mashing into “Mobilization.” There, the tempo mars while landing heavy blows, with the pace tearing your senses. This mixes into a strange, hypnotic flow, a pocket of strange howls, and a slower delivery that still managed to pulverize.

“Approach” is clear and cosmic at the start before things get frightening, and the doom hammers fall. The track opens up while keys ooze over the body, and then the soloing erupts, with the pace hammering and this instrumental cut leaving you bloody. “Outpost” immediately follows and flattens everything, led by sickening growls, splattering leads, and overall madness. Some playful weirdness emerges before the pace applies ample pressure, bodies are shredded, and the remains hurtle toward “Dominion” that has a fluid, creative start. Eerie speaking sends chills before the growls mangle bones, and a massive assault hits from every direction. The playing starts to turn delirious as guitars tangle, growls deface, and everything flows into album finale “Timechasm” that trickles in like an intergalactic poison. The track has a weighty, meaty feel to it, as the drums lay waste to its surroundings, destruction is at every turn, and the track is swallowed into the cosmos to be imprisoned among the stars forever.

Space horrors and having to face down intergalactic forces that likely don’t have our best interests in mind might actually be the things that could unite this world and get people to stop acting so goddamn selfish already. Let me dream, OK? Maybe a trip with Nucleus’ punishing, horrific “Entity” is just the sobering situation to give us some perspective. And if not, at least we can have our brains mangled by top-notch sci-fi death metal while we’re devoured whole.

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

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

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

Photo by Pam Strohm

Change is inevitable in music as metal and its millions of bands know all too well. There’s no sense in trying to get comfortable because, before you know it, shit gets torn apart in an instant, and you’re left scrambling for what to do. Often, bands end over turmoil and misfortune, and the ones strong enough to make it through chaos may never be the same again.

Speaking of which, it’s kind of ridiculous that Baroness survive as a band to this day. Their horrifying 2012 bus crash near Bath, England, should not have just killed the band, it very well could have ended their lives. But they survived, albeit in a different form when they returned in 2015 with fourth album “Purple,” and since that time, there was more turnover, leaving John Baizley as the lone original member of one of the world’s most adaptive bands. Oddly, all that change, with guitarist Gina Gleason added to the fold along with bassist/keyboard player Nick Jost and drummer Sebastian Thomson, seems to have worked in the band’s favor again, as their 17-track, hour-long new album “Gold & Gray” is one of the strongest things they’ve ever put out. They’ve delved headlong into their progressive rock bend but haven’t abandoned their metal roots, and Gleason’s presence gives the music and their aura something completely different and special. It’s exciting working through each song, and everything flows nicely, with tons of highlights along the way. Oh, and don’t be worried they overstuffed this thing considering there are 17 songs. There are 11 full tracks and six mini instrumentals woven in, which act almost like mood changers throughout the record’s run. It all works quite well.

“Front Toward Enemy” kicks off the record with strange noises floating before the windows are punched out, with Baizley vowing, “We’re headed toward disaster, and I won’t open my eyes until it’s over.” Guitars charge up, melody cascades, and then we’re into “I’m Already Gone” that has reflective verses, with Baizley admitting, “All I made were big mistakes.” The chorus is rousing and memorable with everything burning out in psychedelic fuel. “Seasons” pulls in and jolts, with Baizley calling, “We burn, we run.” As the song goes on, it gets crunchier and meaner, with Thomson pulling off some goddamn blasts before the track ends in a rush. “Sevens” is the first interlude cut, sitting in dreamy soundwaves, leading to “Tourniquet” that gets off to a folkish beginning. Baizley and Gleason both sing, which is a nice dynamic, as a lot of the track feels like it’s hurtling through blue skies and into the stars, as Baizley calls, “It’s an artificial heart, and I can’t feel a thing,” leaving everything in the cosmos. “Anchor’s Lament” is another interlude, bleeding into the universe, introducing the refrain to “Throw Me an Anchor,” the cut that follows. Drums crack in static, fiery guitars take charge, and, as usual, the singing is just great, with a tremendous chorus to boot. The playing is aggressive and loud, with the song decaying in noise. “I’d Do Anything” is a really good one, simmering in keys and moodiness, with Baizley dropping the album’s title when singing, “Spitting on the ground, the words fall ever gold and grey.” The chorus is simple but powerful, as Baizley wails, “I’d do anything to feel like I’m alive again,” as the band unloads fluttering intensity as things wash away.

“Blankets of Ash” is an interlude with noise bubbling, voices harmonizing, and a scratchy transmission that sets the way for “Emmett – Radiating Light” that has crickets chirping and Gleason and Baizley singing together, calling, “If I go out, will you find me a place where I’m supposed to be?” Chimes and piano meet up,  things falls back to a chorus of insects and a singular guitar leading the way. “Cold-Blooded Angels” also features dual vocals as quiet guitars echo, with Baizley lamenting, “Wasted years on an empty road.” The track speeds up and trudges, with Baizley wondering, “How the hell did I survive?” as the song trickles away. “Crooked Mile” is the shortest of the interludes, clocking in at 41 seconds and bringing a trippy vibe that pulls into “Broken Halo” that kicks up mud and finds Baizley’s voice going a little deeper than usual. There are some 1970s-style fireworks later in the guitar work, as the track boils in static. “Can Oscura” flows all over, pounding the senses with spacey weirdness before giving out for “Borderlines,” a late-album gem that has strong melodies, meaty vocals, and a psychedelic buzz that sinks its teeth into the chorus. Soloing rips shit apart, creating a crater of smoking rock, which final interlude “Assault on East Falls” follows with alien craziness blips and noises that’ll throw your brain for a loop. “Pale Sun” is their final charge, and it’s really different from everything that preceded it. Gazey lights shine, while Baizley and Gleason sing together, harmonizing and creating symmetry before the noise cracks and spits fire. Strange interference confuses brain signals, the vocals pick up, and the track ends in a gush of lava.

There doesn’t appear to be a mountain Baroness can’t climb, an ocean too expansive for them to travel, as they continue to survive and change for the better. “Gold & Grey” is another portrait of a band that has become like a rock chameleon, always able to switch colors to blend into their headspace at the moment. This is a powerful, emotional, fun record that proves yet again that they produce their own antidote to anything that tries to poison their systems.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://baronessmerch.shop.musictoday.com/store/

There’s a new Darkthrone album, so what the hell, let’s get into this and not waste a bunch of time. “Old Star” is their 18^th full-length record overall, another that doesn’t feel the need to revel in black metal’s trenches and instead goes off in another homage to the sounds that were breaking out three decades ago when this genre still was young.

You know the boys by now—guitarist/bassist/vocalist Ted Skjellum and drummer/vocalist Gylve Fenriz Nagell—and with six songs here, we get three that came from each of them. It’s a nice democratic system they’ve got going and have for a long time, and this record rips, just as we expected it would. Funny thing about elder statesmen and women in metal is that age and years don’t seem to get to them like other genres. They barrel through and prove their meddle each time out, and Darkthrone have done that for years. Last time we heard from the Nordic duo was on 2016’s “Arctic Thunder,” and what you’ll find here isn’t too far removed from that one. Which is great. These guys have been pretty damn consistent for the past 32 years, and there’s still plenty of fuel in the tank.

The record starts with “I Muffle You Inner Choir,” a mid-year candidate for best song title, and it launches with deadly riffs, the drums decimating, and Skjellum howling away, with the vocals scraping at the back of his throat. “Click your shit boots together, we are not in hell anymore,” he wails, as the track then settles into doomy terrain, boiling and chugging while things comes to a raucous finish. “The Hardship of the Scots” has Skjellum calling out, “You buy your home and follow a dream, no politics here, just self-esteem,” as gruff meanness sets in, and the leads light themselves on fire. A tempered pace arrives and changes the complexion, while an outright killer riff sets up and spits bolts, pushing the track to its back half, where the guitars trudge, the vocals splatter, and the song blasts its way out. The title track follows with the guitars crashing through the walls, and a melodic underbelly making its presence known, as Skjellum howls, “The old star dies for us all.” The track hits a sludgy pace, while the veins bleed slowly, and Skjellum shouts, “Mankind dies … DIES!”

“Alp Man” arrives with cool guitar work, grimy vocals, and a mangling pace that later slows and mashes. There’s a doomy pull here that makes this more sinister, while the leads continue bleeding, and the drums bash in skulls. “Duke of Gloat” lays waste right away, with the tempo gaining speed, and the vocals gurgling along. “Hail the Satan, sinister duke of gloat,” Skjellum calls, as melodies roll downhill like a boulder, and an eerie sensation later moves in, feeling like a thousand years of haunting. Things then start back up as the song gets nastier, growls smother, and the intensity leaves bone dust behind. “The Key Is Inside the Wall” closes the album, getting things off to a calculated start before the vocals lurch, and the band hits on something that borders on crust punk. Later, a strange cartoonish voice narrates, feeling like a plot point in a videogame, as he says, “You create your own destiny,” before the riffs strike back up again. The guitars dizzy, Skjellum cries, “Fingers able, just stumps now, the key is inside the wall,” as everything burns out and leaves a thick coat of ash.

While it’s amazing Darkthrone remain active, relevant, and punishing, let’s also not take that for granted. The ride can’t last forever, and there’s going to come a day when this duo reaches its end. But that time isn’t now, probably isn’t going to be tomorrow, and the more records such as “Old Star” they put into the world, the better for heavy metal fans everywhere. Hail forever.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Darkthrone-101075189934422

To buy the album, go here: http://burningshed.com/store/peaceville/

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