Photo by Ester Segarra

Black metal used to be an intimidating, terrifying force, a thing that made people shudder and listeners to less harsh forms of metal cower in a corner. It’s not so much like that anymore (and some of that is for the better), but there remain bands that when they approach you, it’s best you look away or else pay the consequences.

Long-running Swedish black metal force Craft maintain the reputation of being a monster you don’t want to look in the eyes. Their music hardly is there to make you feel warm and toasty inside (unless you considering burning alive your comfort zone), and any band with a record called “Fuck the Universe” to their credit probably would make the uninhibited shake in their shoes. We hadn’t heard from the band in seven long years since their Carnal Records-issued 2011 album “Void,” but they’ve finally answered the call for more with “White Noise and Black Metal,” their first for Season of Mist. This eight-track, 42-minute record actually is a little short on the white noise, but it makes up for that with hellacious servings of their brand of black metal. The band—vocalist Nox, guitarist/electronics wizard Joakim, guitarist John Doe, and bassist Alex, (Daniel Moilanen handled drums for the album)—spill more hatred and hellfire into the mix, striking fear and chaos in the hearts of anyone who dare go near them.

“The Cosmic Sphere Falls” has riffs swirling, drums crushing, and Nox’s gurgling growls bubbling over and smearing blood with piss. The track pulls back later, letting your head swim in the madness, before the black metal spills like rain, and the grimness spirals away. “Again” has mangling riffs and crunching fury, as the growls boil and give off noxious steam. The guitars have a filthy swagger to them, while the vocals are gurgled, and everything ends in a bed of noise. “Undone” has drums plastering, while the guitars charge and unleash speed, and a creaky space sound sends chills down your spine. Nox keeps warbling about “when I die” over and over, and the relentless punishment eventually drowns out in corrosion. “Tragedy of Pointless Games” has riffs charging the engine, while a grimy stomp, and fever-inducing wails make this hypnotic and terrifying. Later, the pace is torn apart, while the vocals crunch teeth on skin, and everything grinds away.

“Darkness Falls” has more of a black n roll feel to it, and it’s the one track here that still hasn’t grabbed me quite yet. Grimy growls and a punchy pace make this feel swollen, while more swagger emerges, and creepy synth murk settles behind the beast. “Crimson” has mesmerizing tones, as melodic fire emerges, and it feels like the entire land is set ablaze. The track calms and gets sleepy, as strange warbling can be heard behind the wall of horrors, and a trudging burst brings this instrumental cut to an end. “YHVH’s Shadow” wages war, as the guitars sear and glimmer, and then the pace speeds up dangerously. Nox’s vocals mangle, while the guitars send lapping waves that choke your lungs, and suddenly you’re sick to your stomach. Strangulating cries pelt with shrapnel, as the track thrashes out in a pool of blood. Closer “White Noise” unleashes threatening riffs, as the tempo bashes skulls together, and harsh growls force you to pay the price. The punishment continues with ill intent, while the growls gurgle, and the guitars send everything in a molten tunnel to hell.

Craft’s utter negativity and pure devotion to blackness is what makes them such a dangerous band with which to contend, and they prove that again on “White Noise and Black Metal.” This long-awaited return has some new twists and turns, but it’s no less deadly than anything else in their catalog. Craft remain a mean, evil force, and it’s hard to imagine accepting them any other way.

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

To buy the album (North America), go here: https://shopusa.season-of-mist.com/

Or here (International): https://shop.season-of-mist.com/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.season-of-mist.com/

Being a living, breathing human being isn’t easy, especially as you get older. Responsibilities, work difficulties, navigating relationships through all of this, and just trying to interact as a member of one’s community aren’t always all they’re cracked up to be. That’s not even considering political and societal woes we encounter every day which, piled on top, can make the world feel like utter blackness.

When it comes to black metal, those are not topics heavily gleaned for content, no matter how close to the human spirit they cut. Yet, NYC quartet Anicon never have been your typical band, and their amazing new record “Entropy Mantra” captures that brilliantly and explosively. On this, their second full-length and follow-up to 2016’s phenomenal “Exegeses,” the band spreads their personal affectations over seven tracks that certainly have the black metal spirit musically but also blast beyond those boundaries into so much more. Elements of prog, death metal, and classic heavy metal can be heard throughout this album, and the band—vocalist/guitarist Owen Rundquist, guitarist/vocalist Nolan Voss, bassist Alexander DeMaria, and drummer Lev Weinstein—seems content to present themselves in a fuller, more dynamic way mostly musically and philosophically on this record.

“Feeding Hand” begins the record punching its way into the room, with riffs and drums trembling, and wild yells and shouts mixing together. The heat dissipates for a spell before hot soloing rushes in, menacing growls provide quaking emotion, and the back end is thrashy, tricky, and hypnotic.  “Wither and Waste” has proggy bass swaggering before the leads unleash their rage and punishment. The vocals scrape like a rusty razor over agitated flesh, while all elements combine to form a tornadic pressure. The melody speeds up and hammers the senses, while harsh growls and fury bring the track to a punishing close. “Drowned in the Mirage” opens with rain pounding before the tempo explodes, and melodic storming continues. The tempo shakes the room, while feverish cries send splinters flying, and the playing gets delirious. The leads explode, sending the track into bone-powdering drums and a clean ending that trickles away.

“Names Written in Tar” has Weinstein’s drums tearing down the walls, riffs coming to life, and a classic metal feel emerging. The song begins to surge and pummel, with vocals bruising and the melodies soaring out of that. The track comes to a clobbering end, with the drums book-ending this demolition. “Tarnish on the Emblems of Ardor” has speedy riffs, a dangerous outlook, and guitar work that makes your head spin in dizzying chaos. The growls gurgle, while your senses are flooded with power, with the band setting a riveting, stirring backbone that drives hard. Tension stretches, with the hairs from your arms scorched. “Blood From a Road” runs nine minutes and chars right off the bat. Riffs push and dice, but eventually they let a fog envelop. The track is savage and disorienting, with the tempo poking and prodding, guttural grunts going for your veins, and a blazing finish. Closer “Paling Terrain” is the longest song by four seconds at 9:04, and a bed of static and squeaks leads into drums smashing boundaries and guitars feasting on your psyche. Melodies trickle heartily amid crazed growls, while the punchy playing opens into a sea of lightning-flash guitars. The song caterwauls, as if it’s reaching its apex, and it is, as the flood of sound overwhelms, and the track drills out into the lonely dark.

Anicon’s music always has been challenging and thought provoking, even at their most vicious, with “Entropy Mantra” being another huge step in the direction of being one of black metal’s most intelligent acts. They tackle topics here to which most people can relate, and to some (me included), the idea of panic and anxiety always is scarier than some make-believe devil. This album represents a dark, shadowy creature that’s real and can eat away at your very soul.

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

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

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

I listen to a lot of podcasts at the gym, because why not? It helps to pass the time. But usually when I finish my daily pro wrestling podcast I still have time left, and it’s onto something to get me through the rest of the grind. Oh, this isn’t going to be a macho dude gym shitfest. I hate that stuff. It’s just that now and again I need a way to power through, thus death metal being the answer.

I usually load my phone with stuff upcoming that I plan to write about, and a few weeks back, in a moment of needed push, I dug into “Blood Oracle,” the destructive new record from Texas-based death unit Morgengrau, and it didn’t take long for it to become something I listened to on repeat no matter where I was. There’s something about this thing, the follow-up to their 2013 debut “Extrinsic Pathway,”  that just hits all the right buttons. It’s brutal, heavy, and creative, and each visit has been a run of demolition on my puny body and brain. The band responsible for this horror—vocalist/guitarist Erika Morgengrau (she also previously played in Autumn Tears and Ignitor), guitarist Nick Norris, and bassist Jacob Holmes (a session drummer handled the kit work)—rips your world apart with every drop of this eight-track, 36-minute album that is perfectly portioned and always relentless. There’s no official band photo, by the way, so go ahead and enjoy the stunning Nick Keller artwork above. The record is totally devastating, bringing to mind the old guard of classic death metal, but there also is plenty of future movement that it’s not stuck in any realm. It’s its own thing.

The title track gets things started, pushing open and lighting the fires immediately, with Morgengrau wailing, “All hail the darkness that burns across the sky!” The track drives harder and harder, with the vocals getting grittier along the way, and after a strong solo, the chaos ends in a pile of cinders. “Wolves of Thirteen” is a total crusher, with Morgengrau growling, “Come to thee, my wolves,” and as we travel further, the band fucking kills you with a thrashy section that could shatter bones. Throaty, droning calls disorient, while the end smashes your face. “Progression” has more strong guitars surging, bone-powdering playing, and a thick bassline that leaves a trail of oil sludge. Atmosphere enters before it’s marred in muck, while razor-sharp soloing cuts into the guts, as we approach a war-torn finish. “Poised at the Precipice of Doom” starts with spacious guitars, and everything heats up about two minutes in, as the vocals burst to life and bring malice, calling every force to action as the music splatters plasma.

“Forced Exodus” starts with a killer riff, thick bass work, and the band pounding the detonation button, with Morgengrau howling, “Drive them out into the night!” The bass keeps throbbing, while the guitars work to agitate the fight even further, with the declaration of, “The day of battle is drawing nigh.” “Invert the Marker” chugs heavily, as more wounds are opened that flow into the dirt, leaving everything stained crimson. Once again, it appears like we’re headed back into the gears of the machine, with Morgengrau’s mean, gruff vocals, and a finish that feels like the earth being torn to shreds. “Incipit Bellum” is an interlude-style instrumental that conjures plucked strings and whirring noise, leading into closer “Evocation of the Wheel.” There, the band unloads more steady riffs, as the tempo swirls dangerously, threatening to swallow you whole. The vocals are grinding, the soloing fluid, and the track wraps up having left you ugly bruises and oozing wounds.

Morgengrau’s punishing energy and deathly violence make “Blood Oracle” a smothering, satisfying listen that likely will pull you back for repeat visits. Their playing is channeled and bloody, and the songs waste no time trying to finish you off in short order. This is a hell of a record, one of the finest underground slabs of death we’ve had the pleasure to tangle with this year.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.unspeakableaxerecords.com/purchase/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=66&products_id=443

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

Photo by Alvino Salcedo

Metal doesn’t really get big anymore. Decades past, metal bands still cold play big sheds and arenas without compromising their sound. They simply kept building an audience on top of strong release after landmark record, and as they strengthened their resume, the crowd swelled with that. You saw that very thing happen with legendary acts including Metallica, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Slayer, and so on.

It’s about time that Colorado-based metal band Khemmis move up in the world and be recognized by more than just a larger underground audience for how good they really are. Their new record “Desolation,” their third, follows the same path those classic bands did by creating one awesome album after another, with this being the best thing they’ve done so far. You’ve heard that before. Fucking listen to it and find out. As they’ve gone on, they’ve also expanded their sound, as they can’t just be pigeonholed as a melodic doom band anymore. These guys—vocalist/guitarist Phil Pendergast, guitarist/vocalist Ben Hutcherson, bassist Daniel Beiers, and drummer Zach Coleman—also delve into classic heavy metal, NWOBHM, power metal, you name it, to create a more full-bodied, dynamic album that’s one of the best of the year. I have so many great memories as a kid of indulging in my countless metal tapes every warm summer day, and “Desolation” would have fit right alongside those classics that I still listen to now.

“Bloodletting” begins the record with solid riffs and tremendous singing from Pendergast, who is at the top of his game on this record. “The noose is gripping at my neck with every breath,” he wails, as a growled yelp takes us into a different progression before things kick back up, increasing the atmosphere. More growls emerge at the end, as the track goes out in flames. “Isolation” kicks in with killer guitar work, as Pendergast calls, “The endless days bleed into nights,” giving off the feeling of never-ending monotony. Luckily that sentiment doesn’t bleed into the music, which has a classic power metal feel the way it punches. There’s some grittiness, as the band trudges through mud, but before long, they lean into steely harmonies and smoking guitar work. “Flesh to Nothing” has a killer dual guitar assault, feeling like it flashed out of the late 1970s, and the deeper singing on the chorus and blunt growls add some muscle. Searing soloing flashes before your eyes, while the storm meets up with an acoustic outro that ends the song on a calming note.

“The Sear” brings more twin guitars that cause an early burst, but then we’re into a slower pace, though one no less heavy. Melodies cut through, while shrieked lines induce panic, and the guitars chug and stomp into the mist. The final minute is moodier but also glorious, as we end having punches thrown at us. “Maw of Time” has speedier riffs greeting you at the gate, while the growled shouts of, “Cast out!” cut into your skin. Gnarly howls mix with driving singing over the chorus, with Pendergast howling, “The sky is burning red,” amid the accumulation of smoke and ash. The heaviness never relents, as the band kicks up mud and mangled vocals before the track fades away. “From Ruin” closes the record, a 9:27-long song that runs the gamut of emotion and sound. “So here I rest, I’ve come undone,” Pendergast notes early on, while the band unloads the heaviest test of doom so far before things get darker and solemn. “There’s a fire set ablaze in my heart!” Pendergast declares, as the band hits an old-school gallop that brings a rush of nostalgia and sharp leads. “I find the strength to carry on,” Pendergast calls, as the band fires up one last blaze of glory before the track burns away.

Khemmis’ sound, songwriting, and power never have been as strong as they are on “Desolation,” and as great as “Absolution” and “Hunted” were before, this record puts the band on the next level. There’s serious crossover potential with this record, which is ideal considering how bad the mainstream metal picture is, and they deserve to be playing larger rooms that could handle their might. Khemmis is one of the great hopes for metal’s future, and the further they travel down their path, the more impressive and infectious this band becomes.

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

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

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

As the resident germaphobe here at Meat Mead Metal, records about pestilence aren’t exactly the thing that makes me feel comfortable inside. But I guess that’s sort of the point. You’re not expected to feel safe and sound when disease is afoot, and being blistered with black metal while you’re dwelling on that topic only makes it more unsettling.

Another excellent entry from the Quebecois metal scene, Délétère return with their second record “De Horae Leprae,” a nine-track, 65-minute opus that focuses on a character named Teredinis, a leper who is bound to become a prophet and incarnation of the plague. That’s unsettling subject matter, though if you don’t speak their native tongue, you’re not likely to absorb much of the plot anyway. Musically, what they do here is huge, dramatic, incredibly melodic, and positively riff driven, as the music storms around you with no quit and varying frequencies of precipitation. The duo behind this band—vocalist/drummer/keyboard player Thorleif and guitarist/bassist Atheos—creates a punishing document that also bleeds with emotion and, even if you’re not able to catch up with the story, you’ll be overwhelmed by the snowstorm force of the music that, while it doesn’t have a ton of variation, makes up for that with sheer force and quaking energy. It’s one hell of a mammoth listen.

“Cantus I – Teredinis Lepra” starts the record with organs unloading before a storming assault takes place. Tons of melody are spilled into the picture, as it feels like an ice storm is building and heading dangerously toward you. The pace stomps and gallops, as riffs well up, and the first chapter ends in a blaze of glory. “Cantus II – Sagina Caedendis” has a dark, ominous beginning, complete with crazed wails, and the song being blow apart. Dramatic, creaked growls meet the delirious pace, while the playing sets inextinguishable blazes, the drums punish, and we come to a crash landing. “Cantus III – Ichthus Os Tremoris” unleashes a melodic burst, while the song gets secretly catchy, and the riffs bleed in to add extra colors. The music floods your heart with emotions, while the back-end torches comfort and goes out in a flash. “Cantus IV  – Inopia et Morbo” again brings a huge helping of melodic playing, while devastation is near, and the growls and manic shrieks blend together. Hearty wordless calls bellow, while the guitars ignite anew, the vocals quiver and screech, and it all ends in a gigantic eruption. “Cantus V – Figura Dysphila” rumbles while the vocals churn, and as the drums accelerate the tempo, keyboards glaze the surface with dew. A folk-heavy section acts as a backbone for a stretch, while wild yelps paint a picture of horror and sickness.

“Cantus VI – Barathra I” starts with nauseous keyboards, as the growls begin to thrash, and more folk-flavored melodies are worked into the machine. From there the song gets bloody and war torn, with a fire-breathing finish charring your flesh. “Cantus VII – Barathra II” has guitars building and keys welling up to the surface. The pace stomps heavily, with the vocals bringing more anguish before things come to a section of serenity. Wordless chants haunt the senses before the track comes to life again, grabbing at your throat with mangling melodies that trigger delirium, and the finish disappears into the fog. “Cantus VIII – Atrum Lilium” blasts back again, with strangeness flowing and infecting the waters, while things gets catchy and light up your senses. Another helping of blood-curdling growls tear forth, while rousing melody envelopes chaos, and both disappear into the void. Closer “Cantus IX – Oratio Magna” returns to the spooky organs that started the record, and then things toughen from there and become ghostly. The vocals again teeter on unhinged, while the song gets even weirder, and in the best possible way, finally dissolving into static, horrific keys, and a pit of somberness.

While I tangle with the great terror of a worldwide pandemic, I gain some solace in that Délétère’s awesome second record “De Horae Leprae” is but a fictional tale, albeit a splattering one. This band continues to deliver top-notch, destructive black metal that not only does good by their rich home’s run of powerful, like-minded creators, but also for the sub-genre as a whole. This is scary, riveting stuff, and it will dig its way into your bones and psyche if you’re not careful.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.sepulchralproductions.com/collections/preorders

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

You know sometimes when you put on a record for the first time and are blown through the walls by what’s coming into your ears and brain? It doesn’t happen all that often to me anymore just because of the deluge of music I deal with on a daily basis, but when it occurs, it’s profound and powerful.

I had really been looking forward to taking on the self-titled debut record from Iowa grind unit Closet Witch ever since Halo of Flies started talking about its imminent arrival. I had known the band from their scorching “Cokburner” single, and they have a few other EPs to their credit, but this full platter was what I really wanted to hear. And holy shit if it isn’t a molten dose of cathartic anger, fire-breathing emotion, and outright heaviness that hit all the right buttons. Themes of anger, despair, equality, healthcare trauma, gender, race, and other burning issues make up much of the thematic material, making these songs even more galvanizing and bloody important both personally and socially. The band—vocalist Mollie Piatetsky, guitarist Alex Crist, bassist Cory Peak, and drummer Royce Kurth—destroys your body and soul on these 13 songs, splattering their own blood, grabbing attention by force, and unleashing venom that many of us have in our own bodies, only we don’t have the ability to spit it back like this group. It also should be noted this record is one of the final releases by Halo of Flies, long an important outlet for underground metal and hardcore bands who found a wider audience and the chance to release their music. They’ll be sorely missed. There also are a bazillion other labels releasing this globally, so stay tuned for the perversely long list of links at the end.

“Blood Orange” opens in a total frenzy with wrenching shrieks from Piatetsky, as the cut mangles the senses, leading into “Moonstomp” and its relentless power. This one is absolute speed and chaos, spilling right into “Eyelids of Horus” that keeps the machine rolling violently. Vicious shrieks and drubbing playing destroy, while the band bashes bones and burns out. “Brother” reeks of danger by someone peeking around corners and into windows, while the band goes on a mathy storm, sending blinding terror into your face. Piatetsky’s raspy shouts maul, as the track goes into grinding hell and rips right into anguish. “It Doesn’t Feel Free” spits in the face of the idea that people aren’t judged by minority, gender, and societal status, as shocking blasts tear through guts, and Piatetsky’s yells are drowned in a noise bath. “Rule By Bacon” has Piatetsky wailing, “How can a gender make one lesser, and you’ve already got your cabinets filled with money,” as she blasts against pay inequality, as atmosphere mixes into the assault, and slow, pained howls pay the emotional toll.

“Spell of Giddiness” is a 37-second outburst, with images of blood and spilling intestines, as feedback and corrosive shouts punch the guts. “Wind Whispers” has crazed shouts, killer riffs chewing the flesh, and an absolute attack of punishment before a shocking, abrupt end. “Your Grace” kills you in 32 seconds, and it has Piatetsky defying the odds against her, vowing to overcome and be a difference maker. “Daylilies” is fast and blistering, as it feels like the floor is caving in as the band delivers the heavy goods and refuses to give you a chance to breathe. “Personal Machu Pichu” is emotional and personal, with cries to allow for a life one longs for despite the troubles it may cause others, screaming, “Please don’t condemn me for existing how I need.” The drums mash fingers, as the pace bludgeons and draws blood, while the song delivers outright violence. “Great River Medical Center” is a 40-second fireball that has a punk feel and smashes without mercy, leading to the 5:32 closer “Lost and Unidentified” that starts fast and eventually embraces melody you don’t expect. The track slows for somber moments amid the fire, as Piatetsky’s pain bleeds from her pores, and the music becomes an emotional caterwaul. Noise wells up, a thick haze spreads, and the riffs combine to create a machine-like attack that opens some sores and cauterizes others.

You’re not physically or mentally prepared to tangle with Closet Witch, but certainly give it a shot by diving headfirst into their ferocious debut self-titled full-length. This dangerous, panic-induced grind fury assaults from second one and doesn’t let up once for the next 13 songs. The record is a wake-up call to watch your ass, and if you contribute to any of the numerous problems the band steamrolls on this record, maybe look the fuck out. You could be next.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.halooffliesrecords.com/label-releases/halo109-closet-witch-st-lp/

Or here: http://sassbologna.org/shop.htm

Or here: http://circusofthemacabre.blogspot.com/

Or here: https://dontcarerecords.bandcamp.com/

Or here: http://www.reactwithprotest.org/store.php

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

And here: http://sassbologna.org/

And here: https://www.facebook.com/Circus-Of-The-Macabre-Records-253232234713762/

And here: http://dontcarerecords.com/

And here: http://www.reactwithprotest.org/

It’s hard to argue against the statement that there is a whole ton of shit going on with most heavy music. Metal isn’t really known for pulling back on the presentation. Instead, it’s typically full speed ahead, a total sensory assault that leaves your brain wiring fried and smoking, which usually is exactly what we want.

Yet, there is a special pocket in the doom sub-genre that lashes back against that idea. Groups such as Sunn 0))), Earth, Om, and Godspeed You! Black Emperor rely on making things happen in swollen spaces, leaning back and making the atmosphere come to you, often over as long a period of time as they deem relevant. Pittsburgh’s own The Long Hunt fall into that same line of thinking, and you get more of the good stuff on their excellent second full-length “All Paths Lead to Here,” the follow-up to last year’s debut “Wilderness Tales.” With this band, minimalism is the name of the game, and they do a fine job on these six songs carving paths down dusty roads, letting the sun burn your skin, and leading you into a transformative musical experience that puts some of the responsibility on the listener to commit to the journey. The three-headed beast—guitarist Trevor Richards, bassist Allison Kacmar Richards, and drummer Mark Lyons—lets you rise and fall with their dynamics, and these songs are perfect for contemplation, relaxation, or simply winding down after you’ve been put to the test all day.

“Ground of Being” starts us off with the guitars easing into the scene, the pace slowly burning, and a steely, desert-like sense to the music. The track feels Earth-ish as it rumbles, with the leads cutting in, the pace gaining momentum, and everything getting louder and more abrasive before cooling off and fading away. “Negative Teeth” crunches right away, landing quick jabs and mixing that with a dose of cool breeze from the guitars. The band digs into a swagger, as the track takes on sunburn with the leads scorching flesh. The band chills out a bit and eases into a sequence that feels like modern-era Rush (which is a good thing because they still rule) before heading into an echo chamber. The track crunches all over, with a fuzzy jam running to the end. “Closing the Circle” begins with drums bustling, the bass riveting, and us heading back into the desert with dry throats. Guitars head through and pull us into a driving rain before speed takes over and races to a psyched-out end.

Things remain dry and sandy as “The Winnowing Hand” picks up, gasping for air at the surface as the heat beats down. The track starts to chug and punch its way out, as the leads burn a path, and things continue to get heavier and more aggressive. Finally calm emerges, as things come floating back to earth. “Smoke Offering” starts with birds chirping, fire crackling, and hearth-style guitars bringing the picture into focus. The song is spacey and frosty, a cosmic trip into the unknown that takes us into a strange, blinding alien fire and psychedelic clouds. The guitars melt and flow into a tributary, spilling into the mouth of the sea. Closer “Cantiga 166 (Tower of Set)” (um, fuck yeah, “Conan the Barbarian” reference)  ends the record with a Middle Eastern spirit, as sitars spill into the mix and things get trancey in a hurry. The track blends into earthy synth, as the drama builds and hurtles toward the sun, ending things on a hypnotic note.

If you’re local to Pittsburgh, you can check out The Long Hunt on the second Descendants of Crom festival this September, if you don’t run into them sooner. It’ll be a meeting well worth your time, as these songs promise to expand the room in a live setting and give you a new understanding of their power. “All Paths Lead to Here” is a fine piece of work that unravels more with each listen, so by all means, go back and indulge.

For more on the band and to stream the album, go here: https://listentothelonghunt.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://thelonghunt.bandcamp.com/album/all-paths-lead-to-here

Welp, it’s been another month. May had a lot of good stuff. June has been insane as well. Anyway, here’s our Best of May mix, and if you like what you hear, please send some money their way. Spotify pays them like a baked bean per play, so fuck that. Give the bands what they deserve!

Photo by James Rexroad

This is a rare day around here, because we’re going to bask in positivity. With all of the vile and grotesque metal records we gleefully cover, combined with the cataclysmic state of the country and the world, it’s often a real downer in these parts. But not today, when we have so much to celebrate.

We almost never got a new YOB record, much less one as massive, cathartic, and healing as their eighth platter “Our Raw Heart.” Hell, we almost didn’t have Mike Scheidt, period. Likely most people know of his battle with diverticulitis and infections that nearly cost him his life last year, as it’s been a story widely told. The pain and near descent into the void would be enough to devastate most people for good, but not Scheidt, who often has stood as a beacon in a sea of murk with his messages that espouse love and inner strength and spirituality, along with ones that also navigate through darkness. The band and the man both survived, and taking on their new seven-track, 74-minute mammoth of an album is enough to fill one’s heart with goodness and happiness because one of metal’s finest institutions is alive, well, and rejuvenated. Along with bassist Aaron Rieseberg and drummer Travis Foster, guitarist/vocalist Scheidt crafted these new epics and added more grit, heart, and emotion than ever before, and while it’s quite the demanding listen, it’s one that’ll call you back over and over to hear the messages and continue to walk its path until you gain greater understanding.

“Ablaze” is the 10:28 opener, and right away you can feel the emotion that permeates this entire record. Scheidt’s raspy singing comes in pretty shortly, feeling different and evolved, though later some growls bleed in. Later, the pace ruptures and sludges, as Scheidt’s growls rumble, and even after a brief period of calm, the music explodes again, ending in a heartfelt pyre. “The Screen” couldn’t be more different, as it’s one of the gnarliest, grimiest songs in their catalog. The guitars chew at muscle, with riffs that send gut punches, and Scheidt’s singing is blunt and coarse, wailing, “Ancestral rusted blade, broken hilt, deep thrust,” as it he’s experiencing that pain as he sings, which isn’t far off. The thick bass slithers like a black snake, while the band grinds away, with Scheidt demanding, “Rise! In this moment!” The track ends machine-like, with the guitars feeling like massive, oppressive gears. “In Reverie” begins quietly before ripping open and releasing summer heat. The track is slow driving and bludgeoning, with riffs burning, the singing smearing filth, and everything coming to a smothering conclusion.

“Lungs Reach” is the shortest cut at 5:39, and its eerie noise stretches and infects before the song tears open and reveals its monstrous side, eventually dissolving into a mud pit. “Beauty in Falling Leaves” is the longest track, weighing in at 16:49, and it’s the indisputable core of the record. It’s a wrenching doom ballad that ultimately has a positive, life-affirming theme, as the music slowly unfurls but builds into the crescendo of a chorus, where Scheidt belts, “Been this way throughout my life, your heart brings me home.” That sentiment keeps repeating, and every time it does, you can feel the blood rushing from the band’s collective heart, as they snake their way throughout this song. Later, the tempo switches, as they pour new colors into the mix, but they always return to the meat of the song, getting spacey and psychedelic before the track melts away. “Original Face” is the most traditionally YOB-like song on the entire record, with molten riffs, gruff vocals, and a heavy sentiment compounded by harsh shrieks. “There is nothing else, this is all there is,” Scheidt insists, as the punishing pace pushes on, the soloing scorches, and things come to a hellishly mauling finish. The title cut ends the album, a 14:41 epic that battles “Falling Leaves” for the emotional center point and does a hell of a job capturing your soul. The start is trippy and makes you see vibrant colors, and from there, the song takes you on a long journey that, weirdly, doesn’t feel like it lasts half as long as it does. There is emotional space, cosmic hurtling, and Scheidt calling, “Beckoning my restless ghost, leaving, nothing left behind.” The song feels like a total triumph, a statement from a band that started death in the face, survived, and lived to spread their positivity on an entirely new level.

YOB’s mission always has included a great dose of survival instinct, and that is partially what helped “Our Raw Heart” see the light of day to start with. It’s great to have Scheidt on the mend, sounding as vibrant and husky as ever, and the rest of the band pounding away like only they can. We can’t feel miserable all the time. This is a record that should put a smile on your face, light embers within your soul, and hammer home the point that even while we’re immersed in negativity elsewhere, it’s OK to stop and feel good every now and again.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://relapse.com/yob-our-raw-heart/

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

Stargazing at night is not something I do all the time. Weirdly, I always make a point to look into the stars every Wednesday evening, a long tradition about which I won’t bore you with details, but it’s always the time I try to reconnect with the universe and continue to wonder what lies beyond our realm. What stories are out there we’ll never know?

“Continuum,” the second record from long-running English instrumental band Sons of Alpha Centauri, made me think a lot more about the universe during the time I’ve spent with these eight songs. This effort, their first full-length since their 2007 self-titled debut, pulls back from the stoner rock vibes much of the other music centers on (they do claims bands such as Yawning Man and Karma to Burn as close allies) as expands further into the beyond. The music they create is fascinating and can open your mind to dreaming and wondering. It’s not always the heaviest thing on earth, which it doesn’t need to be, but the music definitely packs some gritty punches while they’re taking you on a mental and spiritual journey. The band—guitarist Marlon King, bassist Nick Hannon, drummer Stevie B., and noise/texture guru Blake—worked with former ISIS/current Palms member Aaron Harris on these tracks, and I’m not sure if it’s his influence, but the music should find favor among those who choose to dine on the flesh of post-rock and post-metal. Think something between Pelican and Clouds Taste Satanic, and any newcomer will have a pretty good idea what’s in store.

“Into the Abyss” starts the record on a spacey, strange note, as the music slowly opens and begins to spill into the atmosphere, leading to “Jupiter” that gets punchy right off the bat. Synth becomes a murky cloud, while gentle guitars liquify and stream through your consciousness, feeling almost like a Rush song. The track gets jazzy leading to charging riffs, grime, and a blistering end. “Solar Storm” is both buzzing and catchy, as the guitars drive hard, and the synth swallows you in its mysterious pocket. There even are elements of dripping deathrock here, with leads soaring out of that, and the tempo getting faster, barreling to a bruising finish. “Io” is based in fog and swampiness, with moody guitars striking out to the cosmos, and the melodies feeling like early morning, as you stamp the dew and gaze at the outline of the fading moon. The riffs tougher up later, jolting you out of your comfort.

“Surfacing for Air” is built on ’80s synth, guitars trickling like runoff from a drizzle, and everything heading toward the drain. “Interstellar” has intergalactic keys zapping and cold guitars sending a chill, before we head into serenity for a quick breather. New riffs climb out of the ground, with the band hitting the gas pedal before things slow down, and then we head into a hypnotic outro. “Orbiting Jupiter” has pianos dripping and the drama sweeping, feeling like the entrance to the record’s big crescendo, the 10:52 closer “Return Voyage.” The beginning is a reflective pool, with keys again emerging from space, and guitars swimming before getting jagged. The pace chugs ahead for a bit before serenity sets back in, as eerie synth blankets the area, and an infusion of atmosphere brings a charge. Finally, the tempo returns to its more aggressive patterns, with the leads churning, smoke rising, and the song bleeding out in an alien haze.

I could use more time remembering the incredible blackness in which we’re all enveloped, and a record such as “Continuum” might be the right avenue to get there. Sons of Alpha Centauri have packed a lot of music into their run, despite only two full-lengths, and it’s fun to hear them adding new influences and textures to what they do. This is an ideal album for a late evening outside, chair titled toward the stars, while you imagine what you might find if you got to explore the great beyond.

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

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