Photo by Sam Gehrke

I don’t know what the end of the world is going to look and/or sound like? I honestly hope I never find out. But if there was a way to soundtrack that event, I’m pretty sure it would be unnerving and like no horror we’ve ever experienced before.

I say this because my own vision of the end would be created by crazed doom duo The Body, one of the most bizarre and challenging bands on the entire planet. They have a sound, but they don’t. They are entrenched into a certain mindset, but they have no problem veering away from that. The past few years, they’ve worked to completely undo what most people think of the band, and that continues on their new record “I Have Fought Against It, But I Can’t Any Longer,” a line taken from Virginia Woolf’s suicide letter. That should indicate what you’re up against, which is sadness, despair, loneliness, and an emotional black hole that’s impossible to fill. The duo of guitarist/vocalist Chip King and drummer Lee Buford bring along contributors such as longtime collaborator Chrissy Wolpert (Assembly of Light Choir), Ben Eberle (Sandworm), Kristin Hayter (Lingua Ignota), and Michael Berdan (Uniform), and they build these songs with their collection of samples, rather than go the traditional route of composition. It makes for the most jagged, haze inducing effort of their entire run, and it’s one that might take a few visits to fully absorb.

“The Last Form of Loving” starts the record with weirdness and synth floating, as Wolpert’s ethereal voice mixes into the dreamscape and puts your mind into an altered state. “Can Carry No Weight” is eerie, with strange beats pounding, and King’s unmistakable shriek ripping away at you. Hayter’s singing snakes through that chaos, making the whole thing feel like a nightmare fever dream before fading out. “Party Alive” has a rush of sound that meets up with drums encircling and King’s shrieks mauling. Everything swirls like a tornado, weird doom horns cut through, guitars choke the air, and voices twist and strangle on their way out. The track goes into psyche panic, as sounds rush and pulsate. “The West Has Failed” works in samples of Eek-a-Mouse while King’s howls rub your face in gravel, and weird singing cuts through that and brings back harsh reality. “Nothing Stirs” has static-driven beats, guitars pushing into the murk, as Hayter calls, “When your love is gone, what is left?” Her voice soars before it devolves into corroded hell, with her wailing, “March on,” as if her capacity for hope is dissolving right in front of you.

“Off Script” has beats bouncing, echoes reverberating, and wild growls and cries mixing together. A weird, demonic stretch haunts your core, while the dramatic vision bleeds away. “An Urn” has heavy noise interference, trudging playing, and a hip-hop feel to the drum work. Hayter’s growls of, “You have left, never to return,” register a death blow to the heart, while the intensity builds, and the pain becomes too much to behold. “Blessed Alone” has a thick wall of sound, Wolpert’s haunting singing spreading, and piano dripping blood. The dreamy singing and King’s vicious shrieks mix, adding beauty to ugliness, while the track burns away. “Sickly Heart of Sand” shimmers, with strange guitars and Hayter’s wrenching shrieks plastering. Berdan delivers hardcore-style, blunt shouts, as the noise stings, and the tidal wave of electricity bubbles away. Closer “Ten Times a Day, Every Day, a Stranger” is a heart-stopper, a track that initially floats in noise before all fades, and mere piano accompanies a reading of Bohumil Hrabal’s work from “Total Fears: Selected Letters to Dubenka,” a passage that reeks of love lost and emotional scars that turns a person in a living ghost. “I’ve reached the peak of emptiness, and everything hurts,” the narrator warbles, as he sees people pass him with purpose, where he has none. It’s a gutting, devastating end to a record that already did ample damage before this piece.

The heartbreak and emotional gutting The Body put you through on “I Have Fought Against It, But I Can’t Any Longer” is overwhelming and savage, and this is one of the most emotional things the duo ever has created, which is saying something. This isn’t straight-up doom the way most listeners expect, but it’s black, dark, and desperate as anything that sub-genre can offer. Everything here feels like the end of everything, and the result is an impenetrable black hole.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://thrilljockey.com/products

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

Immersing oneself in weirdness can be a captivating, worthy experience, as long as your mind is flexible enough to take the ride. Conventional is fine, and sometimes the comfort that brings can be warm, but taking chances and unearthing new sounds tend to, for me, be a better journey when hearing music.

That said, we’ve arrived at “Bones in the Fire,” the debut full-length effort from Baltimore-based instrumental trio Thought Eater, and holy shit, is this a strange one. It’s not like you won’t understand what’s going on or wonder what the musical content is supposed to mean, but you will have your head tilted from time to time as these guys take you around some strange bends and twists. The six tracks here are mostly lengthy and have immersive stories to tell (even if no words are included), and each trip back to this album will reveal new mysteries you didn’t notice the first time. The band—12-string bassist Darin Tambascio (who also played in other mind-altering bands such as National Sunday Law and Graviton), guitarist Douglas Griffith, and drummer Bobby Murray—formed a couple years ago and delivered their first music on a split effort with Iron Jawed Guru. In that time since, they’ve continued to cultivate their sound and style, which is all over this killer effort.

Part 1 of the title track opens the record with ominous riffs rolling and then soaring, travelling similar terrain as Pelican before them. The track starts to sludge a little slower, grinding your face in the mud, before it lights up anew. Burly clobbering claims your flesh from there, with the song bleeding out at the end. “Pantomimic Dances” has a smudging, mauling pace before the leads light up and charge hard. Serenity emerges out of that before a quick power burst until acoustics take over. That rustic feel lasts until the heaviness comes back to life, hulking along and punishing before the power bleeds away. “Speak Through Dreams” is serene and intoxicating, leading to the riffs hypnotizing, and a dangerous fire being set. Charges register, and jagged riffs comes to life, and then the band clogs your veins with mud and stomps with a prog-fueled fury. Emotional melodies loop through, feeling like you’re soaring into the heart of the sun.

“Covenant” is the longest song, clocking in at 9:34, and it has a dark, foreboding start. The guitars pick up, jangle, and bleed, while the pace smothers, and cleaner lines swim through the chaos, adding color to the murk. Things hit the dirt again, with a blood-caked fury that grinds away at your bones. Melodies then soar and launch different hues, while the song slowly tucks itself into the earth and cools away. Part 2 of the title track follows and instantly puts you into a trance. Spindly guitar work powers through, while the riffs create smoke, and then we head into the cosmos unexpectedly. Cataclysm follows, before the final punches leave ringing in your ears. Closer “Unwelt” mixes acoustics and psychedelic organs that twist your imagination, and then you’re headfirst into a drug dream. Proggy fog spreads, putting you into a haze similar to Yes/ELP decades before them, and finally the track breaks into stardust, flying away forever.

Thought Eater might be right up your alley if you like to be challenged and kept guessing during your music-listening experiences. “Bones in the Fire” is a propulsive, bruising record that hints that these guys could be the next flag bearer for standard-destroying instrumental metal bands. This is an album that demands undivided attention and repeated listens, and the reward for your energy is connecting with a record that feels like a living, breathing being.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://grimoirerecords.bandcamp.com/album/bones-in-the-fire

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

Comebacks are a weird thing. Expectations are elevated to an impossibly high level, and when every little bit of one’s hopes are not met, it can feel like a real letdown. Sometimes it’s better to let the past be the past, though for every handful of failures, there’s a reunion that makes sense and works.

Legendary Swedish melodic death metal crew At the Gates fall in the category of restarts that were worth it for sure. Their second half started with live shows to give their fans, some of whom were very young or not even born during the band’s heyday, a chance to hear the classic again. Then came 2014’s “At War With Reality,” an album that came a mere 19 years after their genre-defining classic “Slaughter of the Soul,” and to be honest, I didn’t really feel it. It wasn’t a bad record at all, but there are so many bands that have imitated their formula, that it didn’t feel urgent enough to rise above their millions of followers. Now, four years later, the band hits back with “To Drink From the Night Itself,” a record that feels like the proper follow-up to the classic days, a rager that will turn your eyes black. The band had a major shift with guitarist/primary songwriter Anders Björler leaving the fold, dropping his duties into his bassist brother Jonas’ hands. He and vocalist Tomas Lindberg were the main directors of this killer record, and along with new guitarist Jonas Stålhammar (Bombs of Hades, Crippled Black Phoenix, The Lurking Fear), guitarist Martin Larsson, and drummer Adrian Erlandsson, the group created a classic-sounding AtG record focusing on art as a primary motivator behind change and expression of emotions, especially within out currently fractured societies. This record is a fucking battle cry.

“Der Widerstand” is an instrumental opening directly drawn from Peter Weiss’ novel “The Aesthetics of Resistance,” the text that inspired the entire album, and it’s built with stirring strings and a female voice calling out, leading its way to the thunderous title track, a song that could do down as a live classic for years to come. It’s bludgeoning and devastating, with a simple chorus of Lindberg rapid fire howling the song’s title, and this one will sound great on a summer night, live, with strong brew in hand. “A Stare Bound in Stone” has a cool riff with punishing verses that reek of classic death. A quick cooldown is followed by the track lightning up again, throwing jabs, and going out on the chime of a doom bell. “Palace of Lepers” again brings the heavy riffs, with Lindberg howling about “inescapable death,” and from there the guitars march, and a gazey solo leaves you hypnotized. “Daggers of Black Haze” has keys dripping ice pellets and riffs spiraling before the band dishes out a beating. Later on, acoustics bring a rustic feel, but out of that the soloing ignites, and Lindberg’s scarred screams penetrate the soul. “The Chasm” has stunning guitar work and a gnarly pace that pulls no punches. The soloing has a classic metal flavor, as the song barrels toward its grave.

“In Nameless Sleep” grinds away while the leads catch fire, and the speedy verses cause heads to spin. A quick clean sequence leads to the band returning with a chugging intensity, giving the song a death-defying end. “The Colours of the Beast” is even darker, with an ominous riff entering your bloodstream and the chorus surging. The track is sinister yet melodic, and later some strange effects on Lindberg’s voices adds alien weirdness to a track that drips blackness. “A Labyrinth of Tombs” punches open with guitars shredding, savage vocals, and an essence that feels like heyday AtG. The track stays on this volcanic pace, crushing you to the very end. “Seas of Starvation” smudges, with filthy growls leading the way and the guitars gushing emotion amid sparks flying. “In Death They Shall Burn” quivers and delivers fury, also falling in line with tried-and-true At the Gates sound. The riffs bleed melody, while the vocals send echoes, and the higher gear at the end of the song leaves a pile of cinders behind. Closer “The Mirror Black” is an interesting change of pace, as colder guitars bring rain, and the pulled-back chorus pays off the darkness afoot. Strings sweep in later, as eerie noises, classical-style composition, and strange whispering bring this record to a somber end.

At the Gates’ story would have felt complete to most people had they never recorded another note after “Slaughter” and just done tours here and there, but no way that would have been satisfying to this band. Instead, we get fireball hurlers such as “To Drink From the Night Itself” to keep the band alive, vital, and killing. It’s amazing to have these legends among us producing killer content at a high level, and they don’t sound anywhere near running out of motivation.

For more on the band, go here: http://atthegates.se/

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

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

Came up with a cool shower idea. We’re using Spotify (THEY HAVE NO IDEA!) to bring you a monthly list we are going to curate. This month, it’s what we liked most from April. It was a good month. Lots of screaming, though.

Photo by Joshua Coleman

Everyone’s journey through life is completely different from that of others, and I always find it irritating when people can’t comprehend how someone could be in a situation of struggle. Just because your life is going well or you have not faced hardships doesn’t mean the person next to you hasn’t. And it’s that other person’s right to deal with hardships and darkness or celebrate whatever triumphs that come their way.

That whole idea of people’s lives being different and being oblivious of, and even callous toward, another’s struggles sunk in while listening to “Light Will Consume Us All,” the gargantuan new record from Sacramento-based doom band CHRCH that’s about to drop like an anvil. The record’s thematic elements examine one’s journey through life, the losses and hardships we face, and the hopeful emergence into light and positivity once the hurdles are cleared. But not everyone finds that bright light. Some people’s suffering becomes too much that a positive outcome just isn’t possible. Hope can be hard to find, and staying attuned to other people who might not be on the same path as we perhaps can help another in darkness find their way out. Anyway, that’s a little heady, so let’s turn to the music (which is a follow-up to their amazing 2015 debut “Unanswered Hymns). The band—vocalist Eva Rose, guitarist/backing vocalists Chris Lemos and Karl Cordtz, bassist Ben Carthcart, and drummer Adam Jennings—craft long, enduring epics that largely are slower, more calculated in approach, but make no mistake, there are explosions here as well. Rose’s vocals are powerful and mesmerizing, an ideal mouthpiece for this band that takes you out of the darkness into the light and sometimes back again.

Opener “Infinite” is the longest song of the three, a 20:41 bruiser that takes its time setting up the ambiance. Guitars drip in, as Rose whispers over the impending doom, and things stay that way until around the 5:30 mark when the bottom drops out. Riffs rush, the drums quake, and Rose’s singing stretches over the din, eventually turning into a corroded growl. Darker melodies arrive, while Rose’s shrieks shatter any sense of calm, and the guitars begin to buzz and overwhelm. Out of that, the pace pulls back and lets the lights dim, with softer singing floating, and that solemnity taking over a nice chunk of the last half of the song. But with four minutes remaining, the hammer drops again, as Rose’s haunting singing rips over the fires, gazey guitars flood and swell, and the track comes to a burning, punishing conclusion.

“Portal” runs 14:49, and it begins in pure devastation, with understated, breathy singing, and then the heaviness delivered in heaping servings. Rose’s shrieks mix with guttural growls, as the tempo of the song goes from volcanic to gently storming, all the while, the singing complements the moods ideally. Rose unleashes some of her strongest vocals, as emotional, melodic guitars create a foaming wave, the soloing belts out fire balls, and a calm emerges, where drums roll through the dusk, bringing the song to its nighttime finish. Closer “Aether” is the shortest song but still runs a generous 9:29, and it begins mournfully, with a pall over everything. Slow-moving melodies and soulful singing push through before feral growls emerge to turn things to ash. The band slips into an extended period of pulled-back playing, making you think they’re ready to submerge, but then an assault strikes you won’t see coming. The pace speeds up in a way foreign to most doom, going for the jugular, while Rose pours even more of herself into the terrifying growls and cries. The band storms like never before, saturating and damaging the shore, creating an impenetrable cloud, and bringing the ritual to an end in a foreboding fog.

CHRCH are building one hell of a resume that continues with “Light Will Consume Us All,” one of the more immersive and captivating doom records so far this year That title is a reminder that, no matter how great or low once may be, we all end up the same way, as souls drifting off into the unknown. CHRCH have a startling grasp on what they do, and their music can devastate, infect, and intoxicate you all at the same time.

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

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

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

Apparently, there is a deluge of chaos coming our way, a storm we didn’t previously predict to be happening but that is now too dangerously close to fight back against. Weirdly, this will be a collection of eruptions that will be a godsend to anyone who dines at the sludgier end of doom metal’s comprehensive serving table.

All that verbiage is a messy way of saying Thou are back, and we’re going to be getting a lot of content from the Baton Rogue-based band this year. First up is “The House Primordial,” released as a surprise earlier this week on Robotic Empire and that is a 10-track, 37-miniute piece that is one of the most corrosive and least digestible in the band’s catalog. Yes, some of the band’s muddy, driving doom is here within these cuts, but if you’re expecting anything conventional, even from Thou, you’re going to be shocked. This release, which the band describes as more of an EP in spirit, is absolutely coated in noise, so much so you can practically imagine these songs breaking into rusty shards are hitting the ground. Much of this collection is woven together, and the composition style is far different from what we’ve come to expect from Thou. That’s why this band—vocalist Bryan Funck, guitarists Andy Gibb and Matthew Thudium, bassist Mitch Wells, and drummer Josh Nee—always has been a menacing treasure to anyone who likes challenging heavy music. Each time out, they throw some different curves at you, but never as much as they do on “The House Primordial.” By the way, while this is a digital release right now, expect physical versions of this and their other 2018 material later this year.

“Wisdom” starts this grimy display with molten noise wafting, drone hanging over like a swarm of wasps, and guitars scraping and drawing sparks, pushing into “Premonition,” where Funck’s growls sound basement black metal filthy and terrifying, though the music simmers with fury. Sharp edges poke under the surface, creating a corrosive ball of hell that leads into “The Sword Without a Hilt” that lets cold guitars drizzle and cool off the surface. Noise picks up intensely like an agitated furnace, and that starts to melt the guitar work that flows dangerously into “Diaphanous Shift” and its nasty vocals and riffs quivering in doom. The track is cavernous and just about as close to “classic Thou” as you’re going to get on this EP, as growls devastate, and the guitars twist into panicked static. “Corruption and Moral” is an eerie, space fuzz-filled, electronic fit of madness over 1:23 that’ll split your mind in two.

“Psychic Dominance” emerges out of that, with burly, slow-driving riffs doing ample damage, and terrifying growls reminding of Fortress Crookedjaw at his most unhinged. The path hits the mud, as chaos smothers and burns out everything. “Prideful Dementia and Impulsive Mayhem” is a fucking noise bath, with paint practically being peeled from your walls, drone liquifying, and the instrumental cut boiling in hell. “Occulting Light” has drums striking forcefully, as noise boils, and the pace takes its lumbering time. The vocals scorch while the guitars chug and brutalize, and the massive wall of feedback finally succumbs to a haze of angelic keys. “Birthright” is bled into, as alien interference sends jolts, the drums crack veins, and a fog of chaos spreads over the scene. Toward the end, the guitars wake, and signals blast into closer “Malignant Horror” that blisters and maims. Funck’s growls spit fire as a mournful tone overwhelms, and pure anguish causes bloody scarring. The band drubs slowly, yet relentlessly, making its final charge a blunt one, and it ends in a sizzling puddle of noise.

Who knows how much Thou have in store for us this year (the “Magus” full-length is in the pipeline, as well as other EP releases), but starting that assault off with “The House Primordial” has to keep their listeners off balance. It’s not an easy listen, it does demand you expand your expectations, and it soaks you in battery acid. This definitely isn’t for everyone, but those who embrace it are bound to lather themselves in the metallic lava.

For more on the band, go here: http://noladiy.org/thou/

To buy the album, go here: https://roboticempire.bandcamp.com/album/thou-the-house-primordial

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

We can’t hope to understand everyone’s problems. We certainly can (and should) try, but we do not live in others’ skin. There are myriad struggles and problems within our modern society, so trying to have an open mind and heart toward those who live different lives than we do is paramount. Cutting off hatred at the pass also becomes something for which we need to be vigilant and active. Even if that means ridicule from people who think that’s “not metal.” Which is ridiculous.

That’s an issue that’s all over “I Live Inside a Burning House,” the monumental second record from sludgy doom machine Body Void, based in San Francisco. This five-track, 68-minute mauler and follow-up to 2016 debut “Ruins,” examines queer identity, issues with mental illness, and the chasm between material and immaterial worlds, giving you plenty of heady content in which to sink your teeth. Guitarist/vocalist Will Ryan came out as queer, non-binary a couple years ago, and the band became a heavy supporter and representative to the LQBTQI* community. Oddly, as far as we’ve come with this issue publicly (and we still have ways to go), metal’s voice hasn’t been quite as loud until pretty recently. So, having Body Void out there—the band is rounded out by bassist Parker Ryan and drummer Edward Holgerson—gives a heavier, more explosive presence to these issues. I can imagine anyone out there who identifies the same way will find much to grasp with this monster of a record, as they may see a lot of what they face spread out here. Even if you don’t, there’s a lot of absorb to give better understanding, as well as a serving of doom that will blow down your doors.

“Intro/A Burning House” gets us started with synth stabs, the doom waves unfurling, and an atmospheric touch that spills into 18:18-long “Haunted” that rings out and takes its time setting up a blistering setting. Ryan’s harsh shrieks, one of the strongest elements of the band’s sound, begins making its mark, as the track delivers slow anguish and morbidity. “The pain is a sign of the world inside,” Ryan wails, as feedback sparks and spits, and the suffering becomes almost too much to take. The track calms for a spell before things ignite, the pace picks up steam, and everything falls into utter chaos. “Trauma Creature” is a 16:17 mammoth that is calculated and massive. Feedback and feral calls mix, while the doom quivers and makes the room shake. Ryan’s strangled cries lay waste, as the pace simmers and sends off steam. Suddenly, we gain speed, as the song takes on a hardcore-like vibe, as Ryan’s tortured screams spray blood. Guitars cascade as souls are crushed, while this all builds to a cathartic finish that ends in devastation.

“Phantom Limb” is one of the “shorter” songs at 8:55, and we start with riffs blistering and nasty vocals. Gritty guitars make their way through the soot, while the savage destruction takes its toll on everything. The guitars moan in agony, while mournful, fiery expressions scorch, and the playing keeps spilling its guts. “My voice will carry you!” Ryan cries, as the drums explode with power, and the whole things fades into the embers. Closer “Given” is the longest cut, a 21:30 challenger that lightly chugs at first before noise and Ryan’s tumultuous shrieks enter the fray. The playing is ultra-slow, as it smears itself over everything, with the drums bashing, and the song bathing in hell. Start-stop riffing lands punches, while the band goes thrashy while rolling in grime. The vocals scrape, and Ryan’s shrieks send reverberations, though some clean calls also make their way into the chemistry. As the song reaches its back end, the pace changes, the band mashes violently, and the noise bleeds away, leaving a heavy red trail behind it.

Body Void’s music is powerful both musically and philosophically, and “I Live Inside a Burning House” is an eye-opening and ear-destroying release that’s one of the better records to rip out of doom’s circles this year. The album is sudden, punishing, even terrifying, and it likely will take a few visits to truly grasp everything. Luckily, it’s such a devastating effort, you won’t mind returning over and over again.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: http://crownandthroneltd.bigcartel.com/

Or here (UK): http://www.drycoughrecords.com/

Or here (CD): https://seeingredrecords.bandcamp.com/album/body-void-i-live-inside-a-burning-house

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

And here: http://www.drycoughrecords.com/products

And here: http://seeingredrecords.com/

The rapid expansion of death metal’s fields has meant that the original nastiness and morbidity have been diluted over time. That’s to be expected with artists adding their own touches to the sub-genre, and many of those groups have veered away from the bloodshed to explore other territories.

Yet, New Mexico-based death trio Superstition are not interested in planetary exploration, societal politics, or anything of that ilk. They’re here for evil, intensity, and violence, just like so many of the early pioneers looked to spread. Their demo effort “Surging Throng of Evil’s Might” is their first burst from hell’s gates, and it so impressed 20 Buck Spin that they’re releasing the music to a much wider audience. If we’ve learned anything from 20 Buck Spin over the years, it’s they know what they’re talking about, so if you want to simply take their word and indulge in this fiery five-track effort, you won’t be disappointed. If you need more than that, then you’re about to encounter primal, raw death metal that’s inherently evil and will put a bad feeling in your blood. The band—vocalist/guitarist LS (also of Predatory Light), guitarist/bassist/keyboard player K.M., and drummer D.M.—poke at the same wounds created by bands such as Morbid Angel, Possessed, and Sadistic Intent, and each drip of this thing feels outwardly hostile and dangerous.

“Death’s Fuming Passage” starts off with a weird gust of synth before the riffs fire up, and feral growls start leaving welts. The pace stomps, as the old-style, filthy death feel is everywhere, and the riffs continue to pile on top of each other. As the end nears, the pace speeds up, and the soloing spirals out into the night. “-” is a quick instrumental with strange keyboard circles and odd interference, spilling right into “Outer Mutation,” where the guitars charge, and a doomy cloud forms over everything. The growls are raw, and the pace mashes, as speed again plays a factor, and we’re off to guttural hell. The guitars shred hard, the growls gurgle, and the track echoes away.

The title cut has eerie organs lacing your sanity, as an extended introduction sprawls and sends chills, and then everything is blown to bits. The tempo stomps guts while the guitar assault surges, and speedy stabs work to bring more blood to the surface. The track later barrels out of control, leaving you dizzy, punished, and disoriented. “Grave Portals” is the final assault, and it wastes no time bringing you to the slaughter, with riffs blistering and the growls leaving corrosion. Riffs rain down like a heavy storm, with the keys giving off a haunted vibe that spills the pain of a million souls, and everything disappears into the fog, leaving its sadistic spree behind.

Superstition’s reign of terror has just begun, and if “Surging Throng of Evil’s Might” is any indication, these guys are about to set fire to the underground death metal fields. These are five savage blasts to your psyche that are enthralling, spooky, and devastating. This is death metal that simmers in blood and shredded bone, and it won’t go down easily if you need your stuff polished and pristine.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.20buckspin.com/products/superstition-surging-throng-of-evils-might-mlp

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

Photo by Margaret Lord

While trying to prepare for this summer’s Migration Fest in my lovely hometown of Pittsburgh, it made me realize just how much has taken place in metal in the past four years since my last sojourn to a previous incarnation of that event. Metal has come such a long way in that period, and the underground scene is about as active as you can imagine, as it feels like there are killer shows locally all the time.

Another callback to that summer of 2014, which feels like 100 years ago, is it was the last time we heard from Wolvhammer on the strength of their third full-length “Clawing Into Black Sun.” That long break caused a lot of things to grow up and around where Wolvhammer initially set their foundation, yet they sound vital and refreshed on their killer new album “The Monuments of Ash and Bone,” their first release for Blood Music, a label that’s become a major force in those same past few years. The lineup has changed some, but their ferocity certainly hasn’t. Along with their blunt force black metal assault that remains as volatile as ever, the band also leans into different shades and tempos, and there are some truly different angles the guys take on these seven songs. It has the band—vocalist Adam Clemans (Skeletonwitch), guitarist/synth player Jeff Wilson (Abigail Williams), guitarist/bassist John Porada (Negative Mantra), bassist Andrew Garrity, and drummer Garry Naples (Novembers Doom)—spouting deadly new blood and keeps their teeth as sharp as they’ve ever been.

“Eternal Rotting Misery” starts in a synth haze before the ground erupts, and Clemans’ devastating growls make their way to the front. Fiery chugging and a punishing pace set the song into gear, while searing black metal melodies melt the surface. The track picks up an even faster clip toward the end, with the song coming to a swirling, nasty finish. “Call Me Death” demolishes right away, with growls bubbling under the surface, and the riffs bringing ominous tones. The soloing is volcanic, and Clemans’ dark singing enters the fray, adding different textures to this mauler. Things remain murky, as the song heads out on a cosmic synth cloud. “Law of the Rope” is a monster, as tar-thick riffs and nasty growls pummel, and a brief halt in the action paves the way for a series of piledrivers. The band hits a thrashy groove while the soloing bursts, and the song decimates your mind and soul.

“Bathed in Moonblood and Wolflight” is charging and dizzying out of the gates, with an animalistic pace that brings danger, and the screams scraping at the earth. Burly basslines pop in and bruise eyeballs, while the riffs cut through the muscle and stomp in your guts. “The Failure King” is one of the catchier songs on here, with muddy riffs adding grit. “I have become the failure king!” Clemans howls, as the band hammers away, and the guitars enter tornado alley. All the madness gets sucked up into the starts, and that leads into “Dead Rat Rotting Raven” that begins with a hovering noise storm. The track kicks in and feels punk driven and full of attitude, as Clemans wails, “Fuck your insignificant life!” The riffs speed up from there and blast toward the abrupt finish. Closer “Solar Eclipsed” is the biggest curveball, as it’s a slower-paced 8:22-long wanderer that’s one of the most interesting things in their catalog. Again, Clemans sings, digging deep into his guts, while he’s surrounded by shadowy playing, foreboding keys, and the feeling that all is being washed away by black waters. Power does charge here and there, as growls and driving guitars incite violence, but all of it ends in a splash of synth and strings, letting you down on a somber note.

The metal world might be a more heavily populated, diverse world since Wolvhammer last stalked listeners, but “The Monuments of Bone and Ash” is this quintet firing back and reminding they remain a force with which to contend. The songs hit hard, expose you to morbid darkness, and even leave you swimming in dank, gothy waters. Now that these guys are reanimated, their reign of power is bound to leave trails of blood wherever they go.

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

To buy the album (U.S./Canada), go here: https://www.blood-music.com/store-us/

Or here (rest of the world): https://www.blood-music.com/store-eu/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.blood-music.com/

There’s not a lot of surprise packed into the annual 4/20 high holiday. People are going to smoke a lot of pot. Social media is going to be bombarded with pot leaves and various imagery from that culture. People are probably going to drop out of life and watch “Pineapple Express” and other movies of that ilk as they zone away. But, weirdly, last Friday did come with a colossal surprise.

Granted, word leaked a day early that April 20 would bring with it—finally!—“The Sciences,” a new full-length record from marijuana enthusiasts Sleep, the three-headed beast best known for their massive single-track epic “Dopesmoker,” the last complete effort from the band since 2003. And considering “Dopesmoker” was a reworking of 1998’s “Jerusalem,” it had been even longer since we got a fresh new full-length from this legendary band. Luckily, “The Sciences” is well worth the wait, a pummeling six-track, 53-minute serving of stoner-style doom metal that is packed to the top with riffs. Another surprise is that the band is now on Third Man Records, Jack White’s label that has an eclectic roster, with this being one of their rare forays into metal. So, that’s pretty weird. But everything about this record fits perfectly, from the bizarre, cosmic adventures into pot immersion, to the fiery guitar work, to the total demolition you’ll experience. These guys—vocalist/bassist Al Cisneros (also of OM), guitarist Matt Pike (High on Fire), and drummer Jason Roeder (Neurosis)—deliver over and over on a record that’s destructively heavy but also a shitload of fun.

The title track opens the proceedings, a piece that acts as the first of an instrumental bookend. It lets feedback swirl, guitars jab and begin aggravation, and it puts your mind among the stars before that big, bubbling bong hit rips you from that scene and right into “Marijuanat’s Theme.” Burly riffs and Cisneros’ purposely monotone singing drive you into the song, giving you an instant and prolonged intergalactic high. Smoking soloing releases psychedelic fire, while the back end of the track pummels before ending abruptly. “Sonic Titan” is a 12:26 brawler that opens with a killer riff before pulling back the pace and delivering the pounding in a calculated manner. The track continues to build monoliths to the sky before tearing them down again, as the lead guitars scorch, and the beefy basslines buzz in your ears. “Look onto Zion, though it can’t be seen,” Cisneros wails. “Man on the moon cannot help me see.” What does that mean? Who the fuck knows? What we can say is the music blisters, sending fire-breathing guitar work into the heavens and back and leaving you a pummeled mess.

“Antarcticans Thawed” is the longest cut at 14:23, and immediately a haze situates itself over everything. The riffs hypnotize, while the grimy singing scrapes tracks across the frozen tundra. The track is slowly beastly, with the guitars feeling druggy and woozy, but also heavy as hell. In the track’s final quarter, Pike just explodes to life, as his guitar work raises your hairs and mows down what’s in its path. That intensity eventually dissipates into a slow burn, where the drumming taps way, a fog blanket emerges, and the song bleeds out in noise. “Giza Butler” is, obviously, complete homage to Black Sabbath, the original weedians, and is named after their legendary bassist Geezer Butler. The track is packed with Sabbath references, from signaling the Iommic Pentecost to heralding the Sabbath Day. There are goddamn “Dune” references, as well as the greatest lyric of this year to date: “The pterodactyl flies again.” The track itself starts slowly and ominously, adding layers of intensity, and eventually we are at full Sabbath worship, as riffs clobber the senses in full tribute to metal’s godfathers. The record ends with “The Botanist,” the back part of the instrumental bookend that simmers in brighter lights, some somber moments, and eventually blinding green glory as the song ends in a smoky cloud.

Sleep’s return to releasing new music is a blaze of infectious power with “The Sciences,” a record that powerfully checks every box one would hope from this band. Get ready for plenty of strange marijuana references and the feeling that you’re ensconced in the middle of a battle in space. There’s a reason this band is held in such high regard—and not just because they’re perpetually high—as they deliver music that leaves you with bruises despite all the magic your brain experienced for the previous hour.

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

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

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