Bands lose members all the time, so it’s not really a massive deal when it happens. The conventional thought is you replace the musician who left and get on with things. After all, there are very few bands that maintain the exact same membership throughout the duration of their existence, so change should be second nature.

South Dakota-based death metal punishers Angerot found themselves down a drummer when Matt Johnson left the band, and going into recording their fourth album “Seofon,” they decided to defy convention. Instead of replacing Johnson, the three remaining members—vocalist/guitarist C.R. Petit, guitarist Jason Ellsworth, bassist Bill Zaugg—decided to use a different drummer for each of the seven tracks on this record. They recruited an impressive array of people behind the kit, each adding their own personality and style to the song to which they contribute, giving the album an unpredictable feel.

“Rapture Ov All That Is” kicks off and features Kevin Paradis of Aronious and formerly of Benighted, and this track takes little time getting boiling, battering rhythms, and mauling vocals lathering with devastation. Some cool leads tingle as the lumbering continues, turning uglier and squeezing blood from bone. “When Witches Dance” has Derek Roddy of Serpent’s Rise and formerly Hate Eternal, and things start atmospherically, but the drumming loosens guts, beastly growls plastering as the guitars smear. The vocals continue to scorch as the playing bends and warps, the drumming just hammering, the heat rising as everything churns out. “We Are the Serpents & the Saints” brings Dimmu Borgir’s Dariusz “Daray” Brzozowki into the fold, and things are tense right away, throaty hell and bludgeoning playing combining, a simple, but effective chorus flexing. Leads liquify as the vocals are a menacing yell, sludgy pounding choking, the pressure gurgling.

“Lying Tongues Removed” features Pierce Williams, formerly of Skeletal Remains, and he makes his presence felt as much as anyone here, channeling his violent playing as the band follows suit. Guitars light up as the growls snarl, strong leads take over, and the drumming gets a little looser, swinging as roars smash and speed blurs. “Her Song Ov Feathers & Ivory” welcomes Marco Pitruzzella of Six Feet Under and Sleep Terror, and this thigs is sinister and mean, militaristic drumming plastering, the vocals scraping flesh from bone. The nastiness combines with hazy guitars and a renewed effort at bloodying noses, the guitars soaring before burning out. “A Pact Made In Flesh & Wine” brings in Thomas Haywood of Grave Plague among many others, and the drumming splatters as fuzzier, more humid death metal results, growls choking as twin leads add pinpoints of light. Of course, the heat intensifies as everything turns into a savage beatdown, drums crushing as the guitars head deep into the skies. Closer “With No Eyes I See” has Zack Simmons of Goatwhore and Acid Bath, and the band smashes with reckless abandon, growls lurching, the guitars charging. Jolting angles jar your body as twin leads unite and glow, infernal howls incinerate your senses, and the pace decimates to the bloody finish.

“Seofon” obviously is noteworthy for Angerot’s drummer by committee approach here, but don’t let that distract from the ferocity and effectiveness of these songs. Yes, each track feels a little different based on who is behind the kit, but that’s never distracting, and the strength of the material is pretty apparent. Not sure which direction the band will go as far as finding a permanent drummer, but anyone here would suffice and make total sense. Plus, the record rips, which is the most important part.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://redefiningdarkness.8merch.us/product/angerot-seofon-cd/

Or here (Europe): https://redefiningdarkness.8merch.com/product/angerot-seofon-cd/

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

Has there ever been a time when an escape from reality has been more welcome than it is right now? I’m sure there probably has been, but I can only comment on our current existence, and trying to find something to pull our minds out of the mental fire is something we all could find refreshing as societal temperatures rise.

Boise, Idaho, crushers Weald & Woe have you set up perfectly on their thunderous third record “Far From the Light of Heaven,” an eight-track, 37-minute opus that spills you into a devastating fantasy land. Dubbed “castle metal,” a tag that also applies to other like-minded artists such as Obsequiae or even Morke, the music on here takes you away to swords clashing, horses galloping, chainmail shredding. The band—vocalist/guitarist Jeff Young, vocalist/guitarist Brent Ruddy, bassist Zak Darbin—goes full bore, plying melodic black metal and a twinge of power to make for a rousing devastating adventure.

“This Vale of Tears” opens warmly, strong melodies flowing, shrieks raining down and aggravating fires. The pace keeps you plugged in, wild wails punishing, drums blasting before the pace shifts, and the power wrenches its last drops. “Brought to Ruin” lights up, driving with force, screams maiming as the pace stirs. “I am the whispers that guide you,” emanates softly amid the force, glorious leads riding out of that, the leads igniting and coating everything in gold. “Warchild” gallops like early Maiden, blistering as the vocals go for broke, cooling down as castle-storming riffs gain strength. The playing bursts and bleeds colors, the drums gut, and shrieks peel back flesh as the final elements deliver majestic force. “Radiant One” opens humidly, your face coated with sweat, growls and shrieks intermingling, the mighty chorus rushing at you like a breakaway stream. 

“Breaking of the Sword” has howls ripping and speed splattering, an absolute onslaught heading toward you with little room for safety. Melodic guitars rocket as the spirit of battle races through your veins, surging with fiery energy. “The Skyless World” is a little moodier to start, guitars spreading out, numbing your senses before all hell breaks loose, and raucous fire and NWOBHM-flavored strikes jar your brain. Strange speaking emerges, taking on a timeless void, and then the murk clears into blistering fireworks, molten leads washing over. “Blood Upon the Blade” has humid guitars and the growls crushing wills, unhinged cries then taking control. The rhythm is drubbing and the guitars boil dangerously, charging toward a blaring end. Closer “Stars That Guide the Slain” is elegant and mighty, screams scraping, fluid melodies making your heart race. The bass tramples, and screams ravage, a beastly burst taking you over, howls snarling as the final moments scorch.

Weald & Woe again make your juices flow with manic death metal twisted with power metal on “Far From the Light of Heaven.” Three albums in, and it’s clear this band is focused and channeled, creating sounds that could topple castle walls, liberating people from iron fists. This is glorious and energetic, the perfect music for our times when we could use a few new battle anthems.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/album/far-from-the-light-of-heaven

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

We live in a reality of fantasy, fiction, and untruths. There is so much that confronts us in our daily lives that requires deep introspection that nothing can be lifted from the surface. It’s like living in a dream world where the rules of reality have been rewritten, and we need to try to wrap our minds around that. 

Swedish band Gaupa (which means lynx) always have been thought provoking in their sounds and words, and that bleeds over into their new mini-album “Fyr,” a five-track (4 new, one that blends two older songs in a live studio setting) offering that also resets their own reality. Down to a four piece with vocalist Emma Näslund, guitarist David Zol Rosberg, bassist Erik Jerka Sävström, drummer Jimmy Hurtig, the band hurtles into psychedelia and rupturing rhythms (that often remind me of Rage Against the Machine’s swagger) that takes control and makes your heart work overtime. Näslund has some Bjork-like qualities with her delivery and also has a commanding presence as her words also borrow from themes of Ursula K. Le Guin’s science fiction novel The Word for World Is Forest that, itself, is a harrowing, sobering adventure.

“Lion’s Thorn” starts in mesmerizing fashion, bagpipes courtesy of Adrian Dal Cero forming a fog, hushed singing hovering over everything. The playing builds to a burly fuzz, bubbling over before reaching a calm, pipes welling,  Näslund calling, “I’ve been told we’re all sinners, and that’s how you’d like us to stay.” The playing gets punchier and more fiery, waves lapping, bagpipes trailing. “Heavy Lord” has guitars chugging, the singing powering, a ’90s feel permeating the atmosphere. The singing swelters, going whispery in spots, and the riffs glisten as the tempo adds pressure, an ominous and catchy dash capturing you. “Ten of Twelve” has guitars running and snarling, the singing echoing as a strong chorus lands with force. “I move in slow motion,” Näslund calls, guitars snaking through dark waters, smoke rising, the notes blazing. “Elastic Sleep” pounds away, the singing gazing, rubbery, jangling guitars sending electricity through your veins. The playing heads into a dreamscape as sounds hang in the air, trudging energy pushes bones into mud, the edges leaving blisters. The battering continues, turning rock into ash, sounds slowly fading away. The last track is pulled from an EP recorded at 2023 Monkeymoon Studios, a combined piece with “Sömnen” from 2022’s “Myrid” and “Febersvan” from their 2018 self-titled debut. It gives you an immersive example of how they reinterpret their music live and sinks you into the center of it all.

Gaupa drag you into your subconscious state and allow you to contemplate dreams and realities on “Fyr,” an effectively realized smaller release that has the power of a full collection. The muscular flexibility and doses of doom metal are melded nicely, feeling like an effective attack. This also serves as a great stop gap to what’s coming next, which we heavily anticipate.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://us.merhq.net/us/Artists/gaupa/

For more on the label, go here: https://en.merhq.net/

We are humans, and as a result, we are going to suffer at some point in our lives. OK, at many points. For some of us, at most points. It’s something we cannot avoid, and to try to do so is pointless because it will get us, even when we least expect it. Hey, not the most uplifting way to start this, but the truth is the truth. 

Italian black metal power Noise Trail Immersion are on that same pathway on “Tutta la Morte in un Solo Punto,” their fifth record overall. The title translates to “all death in one point,” itself a rather dour sentiment, but there remains some potential for light to poke through if we’re bold enough to take on this misery. The band—vocalist Fabio Rapetti, guitarists Daniele Vergine and Nebil Jabnoun, bassist Lorenzo Sirotto, drummer Simone Crivello—twists the dark arts to their will, creating music that is punishing but also wildly intelligent, never letting you in on the answers before they are revealed, and even then they sometimes keep things in the shadows. It’s a record that took me a few visits to embrace, and now that it’s sunk in, each listen has given me something different.

“Divampa L’Ignoto” opens with a crazed burst, mind-bending playing immediately eating into your brain wiring, barks and shrieks blurring your vision. The vocals get throatier as the atmosphere grows more horrific, guitars sting, and the heat from the fires hang overheard. “Spire di Sangue” has growls rumbling and a bruising, hulking pace, growing more disorienting as things move along. Guitars stab into a burgeoning humidity, yells toughen, and the thick air is enough to make you lose consciousness. “Arde e Respira” explodes, wiry playing twisting muscles, brutal howls powering as the guitars add to your fraying mental state. The tempo mauls as screams shred flesh, lumbering and crushing, blasting away and leaving cinders. “Lo Spettacolo” is fierce and furious, shrieks and growls mixing, weirdness spreading and playing with your mental faculties. Hypnotic melodies infect while steam builds, and the guitar work leaves you’ve stymied and ravaged.

“Sogno a sé Stante” burns with guitars blazing before going clean, sitting in reflective pools that let your brain float in temporary serenity. Screams then wrench as the drums encircle, sounds bludgeoning, strangeness destroying senses. “Culla e Bara” has guitars attacking and barked vocals landing hard, a slow-burning, yet jarring path getting rowdier and hotter, screams rippling down spines. The pace then gets more immersive, pulling you under black waves that fully envelop. “Finzione” has growls choking, a mesmerizing pace that smears blood, and a slowly engorging thrust that tests your strength. The vocals get throatier as the burly attack continues to multiply, giving off uncomfortable heat. “Precipizio Consapevole” is hypnotic to start, the guitars melting into metallic streams, the screams mangling with full force. The thrashiness trucks as melodies turn inside out, completely infecting before double-kick drums rattle your skull. The closing title track immediately tangles your limbs as growls retch, and a vicious thrust turns warmer and mystifying. Drums erupt as the guitars scorch flesh, echoes and sounds interfere, and then the track unloads for a final burst, sending speed and trickery to administer one last beating. 

The mix of abject suffering and eventual catharsis makes  “Tutta la Morte in un Solo Punto” both a purposely confusing listen as well as one that should inject strange new life into your cells. Noise Trail Immersion do not set you off on a simplistic brutal journey, as their scope and capabilities would be wasted in such a scenario, so get ready to have your mind challenged. This is a record that might take some time to settle in, but once it does, its effects and the adventure you take cannot be shaken easily, if at all.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://metalodyssey.8merch.us/

Or here: https://metalodyssey.8merch.com/product/noise-trail-immersion-tutta-la-morte-in-un-solo-punto-cd-pre-order/

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

Imagine doing something aggressive and violent, quitting one day, and then picking up that activity again 30 years later. What are the chances you will be anywhere near where you were in your prime years? Not very likely, but music is kind of a different sort of physical. Most bands aren’t fucking Deadguy.

Three full decades after releasing their debut (and until recently only) full-length record “Fixation on a Co-Worker,” they have returned to doing what they do best with “Near-Death Travel Services,” an absolute beast of an album that is worth the lengthy wait. It’s seriously as savage as how they sounded in the ’90s before their dissolution, as the band—vocalist Tim Singer, guitarists Chris “Crispy” Corvino and Keith Huckins, bassist Jimmy Baglino, drummer Dave Rosenberg—delivers absolute punishment. The acerbic wit remains intact, only with these guys having three decades of real-world life experience and parenthood under their belts, giving their rage a different focus. It’s a triumph of an album, and it beats your ass from front to back with the power of a band half their age.

“Kill Fee” tears open, Singer howling, “We are the freaks, and we dare to believe there’s a place for us in this world.” Like 10 seconds in, and we’re already flattened. The playing chugs and smashes with a ferocity they apparently never lost, smoking and battering to the end. “Barn Burner” changes things up a bit, but it’s still nasty, thrashing as Singer commands, “I don’t hate you, I just feel better when you’re not around.” The verses blaze by, giving off humidity and steam, Singer later jabbing, “I’ve been thinking that I’ve been drinking too much of my own Kool Aid,” as noise scrapes out. “New Best Friend” has the drums driving, the guitars encircling, battering with a blinding force. Yelled vocals bruise as metallic riffs cut through steel, adding pressure to a mangling finish. “Cheap Trick” attacks, the verses mauling, a breakdown swelling and feeling like you’re about to be trampled alive. “Are we sober? Are we clean? Are we just stuck?” Singer posits as the final moments leave their marks. “The Forever People” is throaty and fast, Singer’s rants smashing with the chaos, the playing going uncorked. “We’re selling tickets to the end of time,” Singer wails, tongue deep in cheek, as the wrenching power goes to work, hammering artificial barriers. 

“War With Strangers” has the bass trucking, riffs rupturing, and a more slow-driving pace pushing your face into the dirt. Again, Singer is the unhinged narrator, yelling, “But this is not my war, feels like we’re being manipulated.” Guitars take off, injecting more ferocity into the mix, swaggering and powering off. “Knife Sharpener” waylays, howls smashing, guitars tangling, and a violent pace destroying as the thing goes by in a flash. “The Alarmist” has guitars strangling, Singer charging, “Don’t want to be this again, that’s my own blood I’ve been hiding, that’s my own blood that I’m denying.” The pace halts as guitars tease, eventually attacking again and sending everything spiraling and burning away into dust. “The Long Search for Perfect Timing” starts ominously, dark riffs crawling, a dizzying display that plays games with your psyche. The vocals hammer as the leads drip and snarl, choking you with the fumes from a tire fire. “All Stick & No Carrot” wastes little time getting going, the vocals pasting, sounds smearing and adding a level of purposeful confusion. “Do you think there’s a winner? Do you think it’s you?” Singer questions, the playing tangling and melting away. Closer “Wax Princess” is fast and sudden, Singer howling, “They build you a cage and they call it a kingdom, they step on your neck and call it freedom.” The pace blackens and contorts, wrestling you to the ground, punishing as a detached computer voice blurs its reality with ours, bleeding out, back in, and into the void forever.

Deadguy’s return is long overdue, and “Near-Death Travel Services” not only is a breath of fresh air in the middle of a hellacious 2025, but it also offers a metallic fist forward. Yes, these guys are returning to more bad societal and political times like they faced during their initial run, and while their perspectives as people may have changed, the enemy really hasn’t. This a fucking bulldozer of a record, an album that not only declares Deadguy has returned but torches every fiber of your being from first second to the last. 

For more on the band, go here: https://deadguy666.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://www.relapse.com/pages/deadguy-near-death-travel-services

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

Death chases and haunts us from the time we are made aware of its presence until the day it finally gets us, and it is the product of too many levels of anxiety to even count. It’s the dark phantom a step behind us in case we make a fatal mistake or our bodies give out. It can’t be escaped, and it can’t be denied.

Polish black metal duo Thanatorean (vocalist E, multi-instrumentalist KM) dive deeply into that fear and madness on their debut full-length “Ekstasis of Subterranean Currents,” a nine-track journey into the mysterious void. The band drapes majesty and darkness over nearly 38 minutes of chaos that feels like it is pulling you into the unknowable mystery of our demises and what may lie after, if anything at all. It’s a chilling experience that eats away at you, just like your own nightmares pulling you into the caverns of death. 

“The Descent” starts with sounds boiling and rippling, and then everything opens into ominous black metal, the sooty screams buried in the dirt, the leads going off and electrifying. The mood gets cavernous as power hangs like a storm cloud, stomping off into oblivion. “With Tongues of the Underworld” detonates with relentless energy and wild howls, melodic charges jolting your spine, smoke rising and choking. The pace charges into charred terrain, the growls pummel, and everything ends in dire fury. “Thrice-Hexed” has the vocals punishing, guitars sweltering, the ghoulish force in full command. The sounds slowly melt into a mind-altering syrup, singing bellowing before an infernal push, guitars tangling and vibrating. “Tranquil Trueness of End” opens with charging guitars, growls mashing, and the humidity rising, making breathing difficult. Haunting speaking echoes as they turn into menacing howls, the guitars mystifying and generating steam.

“De Profundis” is doomy and cloudy, blasts suddenly ripping through its midsection, the guitars creating a hallucinatory fog. That weirdness spills into a sudden eruption, dashing as the final fires gasp. “To Abyss Sacrosanct” dawns with bass layering, smashing as deeper growls lurch, clean warbling turning into a nightmarish void. Guitars glimmer and trick your mind, the pace hammering once more before disappearing. “In Reverent Throes” attacks, sooty growls slinking, the force penetrating your cells and changing their structure. The heat encircles, led by the guitars generating a force, the riffs the only thing surviving the icy end. “Bound Beneath and Beyond” brings a steady tempo, guitars defacing, blending into a bizarre chasm that melts your inhibitions. The force becomes overwhelming, stretching and repeating, the sweat coating your face. The closing title track pulls you into the center of hypnosis, the guitars bleeding colors, howls erupting and mangling your mental faculties. Growls retch as a spindly pace unloads like a savage weather front, ferocity spinning off into hell.

“Ekstasis of Subterranean Currents” is an unsettling experience both musically and thematically as we are forced to stare death in the eyes and accept our fates. The playing is immersive and chilling, and they capture the anxiety and terror surrounding the very idea of our demise. This is a black tunnel with no end, music here to defy comfort and head directly into the void.

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

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

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

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

Well, time to sound like an asshole again, so here goes: Very few bands manage to do thrash metal right, the way it sounded in its 1980s heyday, and a lot of that is because you can’t just pick up an old album and capture the essence. But it can be done on rare occasion, and it’s glorious when all the buttons are mashed just right.

Ready for Death are back with record no. 2, that being “Pay With Your Face,” and this 12-track beast really nails the punk-fueled, politically minded, smashing madness from an era that never can be repeated. The attitude is here as is the brutality and the sense of humor as the band—vocalist Artie White, guitarist Dallas Thomas (formerly of Pelican), bassist/synth player Luca Cimarusti, drummer Shawn Brewer—tears through these 34 minutes, wasting no time at all and maximizing every second. Yeah, it reflects on morbid times, but it’s also a blast to hear, and these guys would not be out of place on a bill sandwiched between Exodus and Anthrax. 

“Spacebreeders” rips open with drums echoing and guitars raining down, howls trudging over you like a reckless machine. Guitars spiral as the humidity ticks up, blistering with meaty pounding. The title track is a fast one, attacking with speed, hammering vocals, and a smeary assault that wrecks skeletons. “Cannibal Cops” is ridiculous on the surface, but pleasingly so, and digging into the track, they’re fucking going for it. Gang shouts of the simple chorus rampage as guitars rule, the vocals wrench, and the stirring chaos envelopes. “Motherfucker, it’s the cannibal cops,” White warns, torching to the end. “God Send the Asteroid”  is an understandable title considering where we are, and it’s a punk-fueled blast, complete with catchy guitars, hardcore-style brute force, and animalistic devastation. “Going to the afterlife!” sounds like a charge delivered tongue in cheek as the heat finally subsides, the guitars melting away. “Doomsday Everyday” is another quick blast, the group shouts of the title rampaging your spine, brutality leaking out of each crevice, a scalding soloing giving one more violent shove. “The Harvest” chugs as the temperatures rise, and then things fully fire up, metallic riffs pulling walls down. “You’re running for your life,” White howls repeatedly, the pressure building before a scorching end.

“Digital Witch” begins with weird noise chicanery and doomy riffs, and then it’s onto a full beating, guitars teasing and mashing before burning away. “Lawbreaker” has menacing guitars and screams curdling, a beating administered as the guitars begin to flex. The heat becomes insurmountable as the back end of the track stomps guts, the guitars blaze anew, and an explosive gust brings an abrupt end. “Project T.A.R.A.N.T.U.L.A.” lumbers, the drums thundering, the guitars picking up the pace and twisting muscle. The title is howled over and over (well, at least the  T.A.R.A.N.T.U.L.A. part is), lodging itself in your brain as the playing soars, and thrashy madness consumes. “Sewage of the Divine” destroys, guitars churning, sinewy playing leaving bruises. Guitars agitate melodically as the thrashiness multiplies dangerously, lighting up one more time before fading. “Utopia of War” has the bass driving and a more atmospheric aura backing the punishment. Slashing colors play tricks with your brain as relentless howls of, “You suffer!” run into ravaging drums and intense melody. Closer “Rat Chaser” begins with drums rupturing, savage power exploding, and a swarming, suffocating attack. “Chase rats!” is yelped over the chorus as the playing levels, guitars slink, and a strange cosmic vibe disintegrates.

Ready for Death bring a refreshing edge to a reality that is really not the best on “Pay With Your Face.” It also returns to a time when thrash metal often sounded fun and furious but also packed harrowing messages that strangely still resonate today. If it’s all over for us, there’s nothing we really can do than watch the ruling class burn everything to the ground, and this music will go a long way toward soundtracking that insanity.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://translationloss.com/collections/ready-for-death

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

Times are chaotic right now, as bad as they’ve probably been in my lifetime, or at least in my adulthood, and it seems silly to split hairs with art on the surface, but it’s actually pretty crucial. Do you want to put your money in the pocket of some fascist asshole who’s OK with all of this? If your answer is yes, please get the fuck out of here.

LA-based one-man black metal power Tumultuous Ruin has been one of the reliable ones the last few years as our world has grown more toxic, and his unflinching opposition to fascism and oppression is noteworthy and honorable. If you’re new to the band helmed by RH, his new EP “Never a Night So Dark” (the title is lifted from a John Brown quote) is the perfect entrance point. These four songs are culled from tracks he created for benefit releases so they all can live in a single home, and there’s an interesting cover thrown into the mix. The band’s style of black metal leans on the raw, untamed side, and this is a nice sampling to hopefully entice more folks to get into an artist whose heart is in the right place and can properly destroy.

“Undead Corpse of Empire” drills open, sooty growls clogging veins, screams by guest vocalist Stone Crow rippling down spines. The riffs lather as the battering ram gets meaner, the chorus rushing over bloody ground, melodies enrapturing, and some final shrieks jarring your senses. “Toward Their Chains” starts in clean eeriness, a slow-driving pace making you sustain every blow, mournful melodies dripping into a lapse of time. The playing goes cold as the sound surrounds your psyche, a quote from “Fellowship of the Ring” where Aragon laments, “It’s long since we had any hope,” making for a sobering message in these times. The playing continues to flood into time, blazing once more before coming to a rest. “Climate Chaos Manifest” ravages, a blistering force ripping at you, a brief gasp of calm lingering before incineration. A hammering force emerges and chews through rock, rushing and rampaging, a melodic black metal wave enveloping, leaving the carnage sizzling in gazey fervor. “Smothered Hope” is a cover of the Skinny Puppy track from 1984’s “Remission,” and it’s a properly blackened, even more sinister version of the bouncy, creaky original. It’s melodic and thornier, with RH doing a fine job translating Nivek Ogre’s strangulating voice but with his own dark flourish that makes it more sinister.

This compilation EP gives a nice glimpse of what Tumultuous Ruin do so well, and these four tracks pack enough punishment and righteous indignation to get a newcomer started on a really strong back catalog. The fact the band carries the banner for battling fascism and often has their work benefitting noble causes is another reason to toss some money their way as you know it won’t be funding assholes. This is a nice appetizer for whatever comes next for this band as well as a quick foray into Tumultuous Ruin, which always is worth your time and damage to your hearing.   

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

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

Or here: https://tumultuousruin.bandcamp.com/album/never-a-night-so-dark-ep

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

As you get older, the idea of your own demise comes a little closer in the front view than most might find comfortable. That’s if you live a long life into old age. But that shit can come for you at any time, any place, any situation, and dealing with a brush with death or someone else’s is enough to wreak havoc on your own mentality.

Canadian black metal force Witherer pack all of that trauma and catharsis into “Shadow Without a Horizon,” their debut full-length. The band itself—Tiamoath (vocals, guitars, bass, songwriting, keyboards, bells),  Øhrracle (vocals, guitars), Hex Visceræ (drums)—experienced health issues and too-close-for-comfort scrapes with death, and that’s packed into these five tracks and 53 minutes of torment. Black metal remains their base, but there is a lot of slow-burning doom cooked into this thing, and if you feel like the music is making you dizzy and disoriented, you’re not alone. This is punishing mentally and physically, an album that sees its horrors to the end.

“Fiat Umbra (Burial Beneath the Stalactites)” opens basking in darkness, a long introspection melting into warped heat, growls mauling as the guitars boil. Feral calls rip as the vibe grows weird and trudging, calls marring as doom elements grow thicker and stickier, whispers confounding before eeriness peaks, psychosis melting as spiraling playing stabs the senses. Guitars flex again, the growls corrode, and bizarre power blurs before fading. “Devourer of All Graveyards” attacks, howls snarling, guitars angling and cutting into your muscles. Smoke rises as the tempo slows, remaining just as heavy but slightly tricky. Guest vocalist M. Adem lends her pipes by adding wordless calls, and then clean singing bellows, growls smear, and an ugly, deranged assault spirals and stings before disappearing into dust. “The Wailing Hours (Plummeting Under the Tunnels)” is an instrumental with sounds hovering, dank guitars echoing, and the feeling of being stuck in a basement isolating you.

“Solar Collapse Mandala” has cries pulling at flesh and a hammering pace, guitars gripping as the growls crush, the playing veering toward hypnosis. It feels like a drug haze dream as the pressure turns into strange colors, the momentum mounts, and the delirious melodies pin you to the earth. Guitars bloody as a final gasp attacks, trucking and sprawling to the end. Closer “Praises (Gliding Through the Lightless Sea)” is the longest track, running 15:30, and the echoey slurriness permeates, howls doing damage, the bass slinking into the unknown. Growls sicken as the mesmerizing playing angles toward chaos, the heat rising as the band slowly batters, the bass again flexing hard. The vocals gurgle as the guitars melt, going off into sooty tension, mixing into a mystical soundscape. A last detonation arrives, bringing animalistic damage, sounds whirring, and the last strains of words mixing into echoes.

Brushes with one’s demise obviously can make a significant impact on you mentally, and that reality is all over “Shadow Without a Horizon,” one hell of a weighty debut record for Witherer. These are universal themes, and while it might not always (or ever) feel good to face these forces, they cannot be avoided, so confronting them can build strength. This album doesn’t exactly go down easily, nor was it intended to, and each experience with these five songs can leave anyone bruised, vulnerable, band, perhaps, enlightened. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://hypaethralrecords.com/collections/witherer

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

I have a real issue with downtime in that I have no idea what to do with myself when I have too much time on my hands. ADHD doesn’t help matters, and I can get restless in a hurry. I think if I played an instrument or had some kind of creative outlet other than this one, I could manage. Yet here I am, struggling.

Carl Skildum, who you know from projects such as Inexorum, Majesties, and Antiverse, luckily has his musical talent and a practical arsenal of riffs to keep him going, and his new project Skjolden is a product of him keeping himself engaged in between bands. Luckily for us, “Insouciant Metaphysical Grandeur” is a hell of a ride, one Skildum will painstakingly point out is not slick or polished, a result of his own true solo work, yet that layer of dirt and grime adds more charm to these black metal beasts. The project itself takes its name from the village in Norway from which his ancestors left to come to America. Immigration officials could not spell or pronounce the village, and they mistook it for their last name, so it got changed to Skildum. Pretty cool background for this thunderous work!

“In Resplendent Obscurity” unfurls with melodic riffs, the rhythm section rumbling, and howls rippling through the murky void. The vibe is catchy as hell as synth rises behind the chaos, guitars sprint, and a fiery force combines with speed and swelling keys to obscure your mind. “The Fever Swamp of Magickal Thought” has riffs tearing and exploring, furious howls belting flesh, and a chorus that sinks in and makes your blood flow. The energetic burst continues as a colorful assault dashes reds and oranges across the sky, lurching into a mystical haze. “Insouciant Metaphysical Grandeur” is punchy and melodic, growls doing damage, a guitar flurry picking you up and transporting you elsewhere. A brief respite is cut into by vibrant keys and a cosmic push that pushes your imagination into the stars.

“Keeper of the Silent Heart” has guitars fluttering, howls menacing, and a fluid attack mixing into a synth sprawl that feels majestic. The playing turns burly and furious, guitars tangling amid growls that bruise eye sockets, blazing to a massive finish. “While Dying” has guitars spilling and incinerating, the howls reaching into the clouds, keys zapping as the smoke keeps rising. Guitars set the horizon ablaze as total fury is meted out, feeling like its reach wraps around the world. “Can’t Kill My Love” is driving with ashen growls, the pace crumbling, melodies acting like laser beams through thick clouds. The pace sprints and meets up with cool keys, glazing as your wounds congeal, a delirious finish shaking your brain loose. Closer “Narthex Terminus” brings guitars lighting up from the start, howls smearing, a jarring, pummeling push compromising your balance. The vocals wrench as guitars lather, gushing and moving toward extinguishing a massive fire that’s been raging from the start, a final cascade of keys acting as a cooling agent.

“Insouciant Metaphysical Grandeur” may be raw and rough around the edges, but it’s a dynamic piece of work, something that should grab onto most devourers of black metal and give them something to get their juices flowing. Skjolden may be Skildum’s downtime project, but this record holds a lot more potential beyond that, proving again this dude never runs out of ideas. This is a really fun record, a nice nod to Skildum’s roots (both musical and familial), and a barnstormer that gets more infectious with each listen.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://skjolden.bandcamp.com/album/insouciant-metaphysical-grandeur