It can be difficult to write these opening paragraphs when you don’t have a ton of information about the band you’re featuring nor the philosophical content behind the music that’s your focus. That doesn’t really matter all the time, especially if the music is engrossing, which today’s selection is.

Lithuanian post-black metal band Au-Dessus (that means “above”) is delivering their first full-length effort “End of Chapter,” which is an interesting title for a group’s initial outing. The record also starts with a track called “VI” and ends on “XII,” but that’s because the band’s musical story began with a self-titled mini record that was served up in 2015. That’s about all we have. This band is another shrouded bunch that operates in the shadows, and even their bio on their Facebook page is cloudy and confusing, leaving mostly everything to the imagination. Nonetheless, it’s not like we’re at a loss of content, because the music is meaty as fuck. The vocals are terrifying and the music is both pummeling and atmospheric. The band—vocalist/bassist Mantas, guitarists Simonas and Jokūbas, drummer Šarūnas—isn’t employing a new formula or anything, but their execution is strong, and this first record is one to pay your attention.

“V” starts the album, as noted, as vocals drone and the music cracks out from the sky. Harsh wails erupt as the music starts to crush, with a wrenching sense to the tempo and the music cascading. Clean singing joins the fray afterward, as it caps off this emotional onslaught. “VII” has guitars stinging as Mantas’ growls twist away at your guts. The storm then comes crashing to the ground, bringing with it a massive dose of power, strong black melodies, and wild screams that bring this track to an end. “VIII” is awash in murky chaos when it kicks off, as the vocals go from strangled growls to piercing shrieks. Guitars reign as the riffs charge heavily, and engorged growls then bleed toward a few moments of light. Guitars spiral as the shrieks peel the paint off the walls, with everything landing as ash after the fiery finish. “IX” is damaged and destructive as it starts, with the track ripped apart, and the chunky playing leaving bruises. Weird drone wails as the temp slows and mashes, with noise hanging like a cloud, and the final minutes wreaking havoc.

“X” is the longest cut at 9:39, as it trickles open to start before becoming completely engulfed. The vocals scrape while the band leans into soaring melodies, but later things get kind of gory. Muddy death chokes up the gears, delivering pain and misery, and then everything halts. Slowly the track reopens, with a long, spiraling section of guitars causing hypnosis and carrying all the way to the end. “XI” is weird and disorienting, with rubbery guitar work and gurgled growls. The band then launches a dizzying display, with the track getting thick and violent and then speeding up dangerously. The music keeps flooding, soaking the ground before turning into closer “XII.” There, Mantas’ cries agitate as the tempo throws stiff punches before things get tricky. Crazed howls and a pace that goes from frenzied chaos to clobbering trudging crushes, while the music boils and lets off steam. The final minutes are a combination of mauling and emotive, bringing the record to a scorching finish.

Au-Dessus have a mysterious essence and a strong approach to their art on “End of Chapter.” Their music is sweltering and full of different colors, and this is bound to be an album that reveals more of itself with each listen. Part of the tale might be ending with this first record, but as far as the band’s story, it’s really just begun.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.lesacteursdelombre.net/productions/v2/shop-3/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.lesacteursdelombre.net/productions/v2/

There are many aspects of human existence that so many of us cannot grasp. Those reasons can range anywhere from the unwillingness to stretch our thinking beyond what’s in front of us or the refusal to think that anything can exist beyond what’s in our immediate spaces. There are people on earth who don’t think there are life on any other planet but ours. Imagine thinking that rigidly.

“As We Were When We Were Not,” the debut full-length from Leeds-based band Mountains Crave, is one that forces you to think beyond your boundaries. After all, this band was inspired by the great Aldous Huxley and his lecture in 1962 based on visionary experiences, which allow one to use the imagination to great extents and perhaps see what’s ahead in our future. The band also leans into territories such as death, the afterlife, spiritual enlightenment, and humankind’s part in and sometimes disassociation with the universe as a whole. Just our world alone is a tiny speck, and often people can lose perspective of such a thing. But this band—vocalist Danny Heaton, guitarists Josh Danby and Mike Midgley (A Forest of Stars), bassist Ol Jessop (also of A Forest of Stars), drummer Rich Speakman—refuses to play to black metal’s standards and formulas, instead pushing their sound into spacier, stranger, sometime New Age-ish pockets in order to provide their own characteristics to the sound.

“Ynisvitrin” opens the record in a noise haze, with chants and calling seemingly coming out of a mist. The track then opens in earnest, with harsh cries that’ll make your blood turn, and playing that energizes your cells. Throat-mangling singing emerges as the band crushes heavily, with fluid playing flowing and carrying the song on its broad shoulders. Melodies lap over each other, as warm leads arrive and flow over the earth, and a final burst of savagery dissolves into a gazey flood. “Istigkeit (We Saw Them of Old)” has glorious melodies unfurling and welcoming you into the void, while harsh vocals and throat-buzzing singing take turns weaving the tales. Melodies gush from every corner, and even a brief reprise from the glowing fire is only temporary, as you’re pulled away to a charging, emotion-filled finish. “Clear Light of the Void” is the longest cut at 9:52, starting with a trickle of sound and a bit from Huxley’s speech before the storm really kicks into gear. The vocals rage over a daring, sometimes prog-fueled passage, while the track twists and turns through many personalities and chemical makeups. An angelic choral section sprays light before the song sparks up and trudges its way to the end.

“Arise O Magnificent Sun” has a huge opening, and then it starts to drive a little slower. The vocals scrape your sides, while the music spills downward, feeling mournful at times. The playing continues to let water into the room, rising dangerously, leading to guitars lighting up and the riffs showing the way out. The title cut is the shortest track on here, a mostly instrumental piece that flows gently, with a female-driven chorus adding beauty to the texture. The song has a spring-like feel to it (at least I think so), and it leads toward the 9:04 closer “Theophany.” The track has a destructive open, letting fire rage and shrapnel fly before melodies blast in and provide more color. The vocals push into the scene as the music swims in a gazey pool. Lurching growls bring you back to your senses, as the music swells and threatens overpour, clean singing rises, and the track has a gigantic emotional finish that should have you heaving for oxygen.

Mountains Crave provide many positives on “As We Were When We Were Not,” both of audio and philosophical nature. Their music is pounding but also expansive and daring, while their thematic content forces you to think and contemplate your very existence. This is an impressive, expressive serving of black metal, and its perfect state for absorption is with you staring into the chasm of stars, realizing you’re a microfiber in a much larger story.

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

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

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

Most music is really difficult to create. I’m pretty sure that’s true, anyway. Some bands toil away, create, destroy what results, and go back and do it again over and over. Some don’t make it out, and their lifespan is lost to time. Others refuse to call it quits, warping their creations and finding ways to emit darkness in a way that satisfies them, even if it estranges others.

“Dysangelium,” the debut record from Swedish death troops Ensnared, wasn’t exactly an overnight thing. The band went through myriad changes (they were called Gravehammer for the first five years of their existence), putting their music and psyches to the test and not giving up until they had an abomination of an album (in a good way!) worthy of their own hideous ways. And here we are, finally, with this vicious, 11-cut first offering that proves hard work and attention to detail can pay off in bloody spades. From the first bursts of this album, you can feel the true death metal spirit travelling through its sickened veins and into your mind. The band—guitarist/vocalist H.K., drummer J.K. (who both are original members), guitarist A.J., bassist A.E. (who both also play with Trial)—plays with vicious, reckless abandon, sounding like they’re coming for you with burning torches and red-splattered swords. The record, in fact, is so crushing that it has to be handled by two labels—the mighty Dark Descent here in the States and equally reliable Invictus Productions elsewhere. Also, there’s a guy dabbing on the cover. But that shouldn’t take away from your enjoyment of this beast.

The record has an interesting makeup as it is six full songs, broken up by five interludes in order to add to the environment. “Crushing the Meek of Heart” gets things grinding and bloody, as guitars bleed heavily, grim growls lead the song into the storm, and later when the pace slows, the playing remains utterly heavy and tornadic. The first interlude is punchy and thorny, with melodies rising, fading, and then charging anew and into “Gale of Maskim.” The track has a fiery start, with guitars assaulting and the vocals scraping at open wounds. The riffs are powerful and snake through the song, while the soloing goes off, and the band hits a black metal-style groove to make things even nastier. The second interlude has echoing drums and an eerie feel, leading toward “Antiprophet” that charges hard from the start. Growls splatter, while the pace exacts revenge for whatever transgression it turns its focus. Strange shouts that sound coated in reverb and the blistering pace kick up dust and chug massively through to the end. The third interlude then injects a spooky, psychedelic ambiance into the record’s DNA, cooling things off ever so briefly.

“Apostles of Dismay” brings a thunderous start complete with thumping bass and a surfy feel to the guitar work. The mission of the song is to tear open and destroy, which it does quite effectively, even taking time to mix in some cosmic madness and wiry punishment, as “Apostles of dismay!” is shouted repeatedly. The fourth interlude is the coldest of them all, sliding through muck and toward “Impious Immance” and its punchy death burst. Speedy riffs and an old-school death feel dominate, while shouts of, “Prepare the sacrifice!” remind that danger lurks and won’t stop until its needs are satisfied. The soloing blazes, while the song comes to a smashing end. The final interlude has noise echoing off the walls and guitars trickling, opening the door for the title track that causes heads to spin right from the start. The drums create demolition, while the guitars whip up a cyclone of pain that blows down anything in its way. The song has its melodic runs and catchy breaks, but for the most part, we’re treated mesmerizing, painful hammering that doesn’t let up until the song does.

Ensnared’s debut may have taken a while to see the disgusting light of day, but now that “Dysangelium” is here, their momentum cannot be stopped by any force but their own. This is a violent, sudden demonstration of death metal that should satisfy those of us who have a tough time finding genuine bands who don’t give a fuck about sounding pristine. These guys only care about taking out as many useless souls as they can as fast as they can do it.

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

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

Or here: https://invictusproductions.net/shop/

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

And here: https://invictusproductions.net/

Most bands make records. Others seem to make movies or major productions that go above and beyond putting on an album and digesting music. Alexander von Meilenwald is one of those artists who use his records as a means to go beyond mere black metal and into the scariest reaches of the past and his own mind as a creator.

His project The Ruins of Beverast long has stretched past being an ordinary band. Each time out, von Meilenwald puts you through an experience you can’t get with other bands. Last time he delivered a full-length opus, it was 2013’s “Blood Vaults – The Blazing Gospel of Heinrich Kramer,” a piece about the German inquisitor who spearheaded the extermination of witches and witchcraft in the 1400s. Now, he’s back with another head-pushing piece “Exuvia,” a 67-minute record that takes its name from the shed exoskeleton left behind by many earthly creatures after moulting. But the record also takes this concept a little further, imagining the music as a lethal bacteria designed to infiltrate mindless beings and call forth a cleansing spirit from nature itself. It’s a little less of a story or exposé and more of a cry to have the pestilent nature in which we’re ensconced be cured. The music itself sounds darkly spiritual at times, with the tribal-style chants and the machine-like droning stretches, but it also delivers absolute demolition. We’re come to expect that from Ruins, and this album delivers.

The title track starts things, a 15:27 mauler that starts with strange chants and cold guitars before wild growls join the fray, and a stormy assault spirals into the void. Weird calling goes on behind the wall of sound, while hypnotic playing captures your mind and drives you toward a cleaner portion. Warm soloing arrives, while operatic calls and the track’s ever-flowing spine stretch and haunt until the end. “Surtur Barbaar Maritime” is scary and leans toward goth melodies before pushing open and making way for creaky growls. Weirdness dominates, as usual, as wild howls and complete chaos do battle before the track goes colder. Things fire up again later, while fiery growls and a mesmerizing outro increase the hypnosis. “Maere (On a Stillbirth’s Tomb)” sounds like a horror show from the start, as clean guitars snake their way through, and slow, grinding death chews at the flesh. There are some strange progressions here, as well as a deep dip into psychedelics, before the ferocity makes a return, and the track feels like it’s pushing through a mist. Gothy guitars re-emerge, as the song bleeds into its corrosive finish.

“The Pythia’s Pale Wolves” is another epic at 14:34, as dissonant sounds and cloudy bagpipes give things a post-Apocalyptic feel. Detached singing and odd melodies combine, while industrial-friendly noise strikes and coats the scene with soot. The track ramps up and adds blood and concrete to its assault, while a female voice calls over the din, making things seem a bit like early Celtic Frost. Animalistic shrieks then tear out of their corner, while gritty playing, beastly roars, and a static storm make up the terrifying final minutes. “Towards Malakia” is tribal and spiritual at first, as heavy trippiness becomes a main ingredient of the song. The track sprawls and hulks along, with mystical melodies and abrasive growls penetrating and punishing. Warbling singing folds into the piece, as trancey melodies and chants take the song to its end. Closer “Takitum Tootem! (Trance)” plays like the strange cousin from the “Takitum” EP released late last year. The guitars are hazy, while the growls dig deep into the earth and swim through the molten core. Scary-sounding synth, a wave of chants, and spacey strangeness hover over and disappear along with the song, leaving you enveloped in your dreams.

Von Meilenwald’s art continues to devastate and prod the soul and mind, which “Exuvia” nails completely. This band has stood out from most of black metal’s cesspool from the start, and nearly 15 years after this project started, it keeps challenging and digging up the darkest elements of life and society. This album is an experience in and of itself, and you’re going to need to devote time and thought to what you just witnessed when the music finally relents.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/The-Ruins-Of-Beverast-116265971848680

To buy the album, go here: http://www.van-records.de/pre-order/

For more on the label, go here: https://www.van-records.de/

It’s pretty rare these days to experience a band for the first time and come away wondering if you’ve ever heard anything like it before. Let’s face it, even the most extreme sounds have become fairly homogenized, so it’s hard for unique things to rise even from there. But it’s not impossible to find something new and exciting that actually stands out from everything else.

San Francisco’s Succumb falls into that category of bands that manage to do new things. While their love of death and war metal, and their processing of those elements, is something that has moved other bands, none have done in quite this manner. Having formed in 2014 under the name Cloak, the first seeds of what would become Succumb were planted, leading us to their tremendous self-titled debut record. If you haven’t already started to read things about this band, you should be inundated with stuff soon. Led by darkly charismatic and disarming vocalist Cheri Musrasik, the band charges through seven cuts here that are tough to fully describe. As noted, there are some familiar musical elements, but those are put through Succumb’s grinder and turned into a new form. The rest of the band—guitarist Derek Webster, bassist/vocalist Kirk Spaseff, drummer Harry Cantwell—also add their deranged personality to the songs, as Musrasik howls about topics including BDSM prostitution, autoerotic asphyxiation, dystopia, and every fucked up element of our modern society. It’s scary, unnerving stuff that jabs right at the heart of subject matters most are too afraid to broach within their own dark secrets, much less their art. Succumb smear it like blood across your mouth and face, with Musrasik leading the charge with her bizarre howls.

“The Initiate” begins the record, a quick instrumental track that opens and smothers, with guitars swirling, and the first taste of mucky death served. “Destroyer II” is the first real glimpse of the band at full power, as the tempo devastates and creates smoke so thick, you’ll choke. Musrasrik’s wild howl clashes with guttural growls, which could turn your guts, while the music has strains of hardcore laced into its death terrain. The pace sludges and drops heavy weights, while the back end has a nauseous, dizzying feel. “Bedchambers” has blunt force and voices spilling into tornadic winds. The madness is filled with aggravation and perversity, while the black thrashing grinds away at your swelling senses. “Survival” shows off the band’s hefty Voivod worship, as tricky, spacey guitars launch an assault, adding strange beams of light to their sprawling fury. There is a dark cartoonish quality to the melody, like you’re watching an animated smoke cloud twist into oblivion, and later, the reverb-rich howls and sci-fi-leaning guitars take you out of your mind and into a cosmic zone.

“Seeding” is the longest track at 7:23, blasting in with Musrasik’s fierce cries and the music boiling. Gravelly growls and sinewy riffs conjoin and form a wall of muscle, while the track keeps getting uglier and more unhinged. Growls rumble while the track thrashes away, and the whole thing ends in an ugly, dank basement where water drips and pools and noises scrape. “Coal Dark Earth” is a death assault from the start, with thick basslines roiling and Musrasik ripping out and heading toward your throat. The guitars form a wind-whipping storm, while the pace slams the gas pedal, and echo-laden shouts bring the song to a close. Closer “The Flood” starts with pianos trickling before a hole is torn into the body of the song, and pure devastation is launched. The pace slashes, while the guitars wander into darker corners at times, and the bloody growls and pained yells leave their final blistering, while the song comes to a monstrous climax.

Succumb are one of the most dangerous, yet exciting new bands in metal this year, and their self-titled debut is one that’s bound to stick in listeners’ sides as the year goes on. I’ve heard this album countless times now, and I can’t shake this thing no matter how familiar I get with the music. That makes my blood go cold and my insides shake, which is how I know I’ve come across a band that’s etched itself in my brain and won’t be leaving anytime soon.

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

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

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

Last weekend was the first-ever Decibel Metal and Beer Fest, a meeting of the most extreme in metal bands and beverages. The long-running magazine that’s the standard bearer of long-form metal journalism packed a bunch of killer bands and brewers into the Fillmore in Philadelphia for a weekend of hell and hangovers. Christopher Woodford, a fixture in the Pittsburgh metal scene, whose Winterforge Promotions puts on killers shows on a weekly basis, was there to take it all in. That he did. Maybe a little too much… The following is his account of the events:

Physically speaking, my hangover from the Decibel Metal and Beer Fest could be a lot worse.  Sure, the spots above my eyelids look as though I puked my guts out, but I’ve experienced worse hangovers.  Metaphorically speaking, however, the hangover still lingers.  There is an ache to be back in the Fillmore again with hundreds of metalheads consuming beer and listening to live music.  The thrills remain only in memory.  At least the fest ended with nobody going to the hospital or passing out in an alley.

When Decibel announced the Metal and Beer Fest, I was totally excited by the lineup.  Mostly because Panopticon would be performing.  While I knew or had seen the majority of the bands, I knew completely nothing about the breweries invited to the fest.  The experience of drinking new beers is as pleasing as seeing bands for the first time: pure bliss.

With friends in tow, Zakk and Adam, we pumped up the jams and headed out on the highway to Philadelphia.  Those of you who are curious, we listened to The Kinks, Weird Al Yankovic, Extremity, Ulver, Castle, Tanika Charles, and Thundercat on our trip.

Before the fest, we hit up the preshow at The Barbary with Artificial Brain, Pyrrhon, and Die Choking.  All three bands I’ve hosted for shows Pittsburgh, and all three groups are intense, so it made sense to start the weekend off with these stellar bands.  The Barbary was packed wall to wall, hardly much space to move around in.  Which is good because nobody seemed interested in moshing.  Philly’s grindcore trio Die Choking kicked off the show with a blazing inferno and ended their set with a cover from local hardcore punk band Turmoil.  Pyrrhon followed up with a string of teeth-gnashing, brutally upfront songs, the kind of set you would expect from Swans if they were death metal.  Closing out the preshow, Artificial Brain rallied up the crowd with new songs from their recent album release “Infrared Horizon.”  Fellow Replicants would be have been pleased by Artificial Brain’s sonic assault.  First time listener, Zakk, expressed great interest and approval of their set.

Immediately across the street from The Barbary is The Fillmore, where Decibel’s Metal and Beer Fest was held.  The venue is massive and can easily hold a thousand or more folks.  My friends and I had no issues checking in: ID check, security check, fest wristband, and off you go.  Those who purchased the beer tasting pass were given a small, easily breakable plastic cup.  Later on at the fest, attendees were given small shot-glass sized cups for beer tasting because that makes sense.  A few geniuses (like myself) overcame this issue by asking for a cup of water at the bar, which was roughly an 8-oz. mixed drink cup.  Perfect size to consume copious amounts of free craft beer.

Finding out where your favorite brewer was located involved looking for their table sign.  Some of the craft breweries had big, elaborate signs, while others had colorful folks slinging tasty brews.  I totally forgot which brewer I drank from first.  I do remember it being a saison, and I do remember it being tasty, as are most saisons.  Citrusy, sweet, orange saison.  I became more familiar with the brewers upstairs on the second floor: Hammerheart, Burial Brewing, and Mikkeller.  Hammerheart smoked the shit out of their beers, like some Vikings raided a village, set fire to everything but the brewery.  The Hammerheart Weltenwanderer lager was particularly smoky, which was weird at first, but totally enjoyable.  Burial Brewing turned out to be my favorite brewery at the fest with their Ritualknife Black Braggot.  What’s a braggot?  Sort of like a mead (so there’s honey involved), but more malts are used while being made.  So, the Ritualknife came out dark, inky, and smooth, like a knife in the dark.  Burial’s booth neighbors were Mikkeller Brewery from Denmark, who had Danny Lilker (Nuclear Assault, Brutal Truth) pouring the Danish brews.  I was surprised to see Lilker pouring beers, as much as I was surprised by Mikkeller’s Mastodon Mother Puncher Farmhouse IPA.  Both were awesome.

Noticeably, the venue was full, but not packed.  So, there wasn’t a whole lot of beer spillage and enough room to spread out, both downstairs and upstairs. Zakk enjoyed being able to stand wherever and not have someone be on top of you.

Out of all the bands that performed on Saturday, Panopticon stole the show.  There were some mic troubles for Austin Lunn, the main writer/composer of Panopticon, but were resolved midway through the second song.  The joy of finally seeing them live was overwhelming.  Panopticon was arguably the most passionate, powerful music on display at the festival.  Aside from them, other notable highlights were Crypt Sermon, Krieg, and Agoraphobic Nosebleed, who brought the night to a close with utter carnage.

Sunday rolled around with no notable hangovers for our group.  Brunch and urban expeditions in Philadelphia occupied us until the evening.  Dinner at Sidestreet Pho delayed our arrival to Sunday’s fest openers, Cemetery Piss.  If you would like to know, the pho was superb.

Sunday evening at the fest is when things started to get…interesting.  Personally, there was a strong correlation to how much beer I drank and how heavy the music progressed.  Falls of Rauros set the mood with their atmospheric black metal charm.  Kicking myself for not buying a shirt from FoR.  “Oh, I’ll get one later,” I said to myself.  Pro tip: Buy the shirt before you get wasted.  During Khemmis’ performance, I enjoyed myself some more Burial and Hammerheart beer.  Burial’s Garden of Earthly Delights saison is as good as it sounds, and Hammerheart’s Sköll Och Hati smoked chocolate stout was like two Vikings fucking on a burning ship.  At the time, I wasn’t digging Khemmis’ set entirely; perhaps it was too clean for me. But in hindsight, they are actually solid live and will probably grow on me.

At this point, the drink game was well within reason until Hoof Hearted Brewery was brought into the mix.  These party brew dudes and their beer were the catalyst of my demise, along with one, two, three punch from Withered, Pig Destroyer, and Sleep.  Let’s start with the beers first.  Hoof Hearted’s pair of Double IPAs were South of Eleven (10.2% ABV) and Cultrider (11.5% ABV).  I can assure you they were strong, bitter IPAs, but that’s as far as my memory goes.  Things did get hazy after the eighth or so pour of Hoof Hearted’s beer. At some point, I did mix things up and tried out Burnt Hickory’s Withered beer. Sweet and crisp, not at all like Withered, but still fantastic.  By the time Pig Destroyer hit the stage, more people began to noticeably fill the Fillmore than yesterday.  This is around the same time my buzz game was strong.  Side note: more grindcore bands, like Pig Destroyer, would benefit from a noise/hype man like Blake Harrison.  Enthusiasm goes a long way, folks.  Closing out the night for Decibel’s debaucherous extravaganza was Sleep.  In my previous experiences, I know better than to smoke green and drink beer together.  Usually it’s one or the other.  Tonight, I was fortunate to make the decision of drinking more Hoof Hearted Beer and keep on partying like Slurms MacKenzie during Sleep’s set.  I ended up bailing early because my buddy and I got drunk enough.  I don’t remember walking back home but I do remember waking up, noisily puking, and then going back to sleep.  In the morning, I was awakened by our host’s dog licking my face and then proceeding to hump my arm.  Thanks, Jeff the Bull Terrier, you’re a real peach.

Final thoughts on Decibel’s Metal and Beer Fest:
Decibel put together an utterly fantastic fest.  The mix of metal bands made for a well-paced festival.  All the beer I tried was great, except for one brewery who I won’t name here, but maybe other folks liked them.  The layout and sound at the Fillmore couldn’t have been any better:  Quality sound all through the venue, with comfortable seating upstairs for those with drink passes.  According to my straight-edge friend Adam, even if you didn’t drink, the fest was still fun to attend.  Depending on the lineup next time (hopefully there will be a next time [EDITOR’S NOTE: Sounds like there will be a next time]), I’d recommend on attending the fest.  Just make sure to eat and drink plenty of water.

For more on Decibel magazine, go here: http://decibelmagazine.com

To check out the latest from Winterforge Promotions, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Winterforge-Promotions-931628180198416/

I’ve been kind of bored with the majority of death metal for a long time, because so much of it feels like what I’ve already heard a million times before. Bands that don’t do the same thing over and over again are becoming the exception, not the rule, so when they come along, it’s a strange breath of dank air.

German crushers Ingurgitating Oblivion have loftier goals than most bands. Their music is not easy to digest, and while it certainly is progressive in nature, it keeps your brain going and processing. But most of all, their music is a sonic adventure, and you remain engaged with what’s going on almost by force. “Vision Wallows In Symphonies Of Light,” the band’s third record, is a force with which to be reckoned but also a collection that could have you wondering what you just witnessed. This is a true front-to-back document, a record you can’t sample or jump in and out of and absorb the music with any real sense. This is something you have to tackle from the start and see through. It’s an epic, and it’s tangled and pissed, so you’re bound to run through the gamut of emotion. The band—longtime backbone and guitarist/vocalist (starting with this record) Florian Engelke, bassist/synth player/vocalist Adrian Bojarowski, drummer Paul Wielan (though Lille Gruber of Defeated Sanity played on the record)—spread out before their listeners an adventure in technical and progressive death that keeps your brain tied in and punishes the senses.

Every track on this thing is a mouthful to say and takes 45 minutes to write, yet here we go. “Amid the Offal, Abide With Me” is the 10:42 opener that emerges along with a noise cloud. Once it tears apart, the band hits a death-rich groove that obliterates the senses, and even when short waves of calm arrive, we get pulled back into the choppy deep end. Gruff, harsh growls mix in with the volcanic tempo, while the guitars charge heavily and maintain that assault as the track goes on. Soloing soars and brings a new sense of adventure, while the final bursts scrape before tranquility arrives and swallows the thing whole. “A Mote Constitutes to Me What Is Not All, and Eternally All, Is Nothing” is a 22:49-long journey into space. The first few minutes set the stage and mood, allowing numbness to wash over your brain and encourage detachment from the physical world. About 6 minutes in, the torment arrives, and your guts turn. Harsh growls and twisting, turning playing not only bring a sense of audio terror but also keep your eyes pasted to the plot. The guitars swim and roar, as the playing lulls you into brief stretches of serenity, only to be met by a bloodthirsty beast on the other side. Weird, chilling guitars bring a freezing ambiance, as the song dissolves into odd speaking and an engulfing sound haze.

“Vision Wallows in Symphonies of Light” charges open and shows impressive prog-infested fire. The tempo is punchy and chaotic for the most part, with growls hulking and dragging behind it a path of blood and guts. A mystical section blows in and cools off the atmosphere, but that’s a temporary thing as the track bursts at the seams all over again. The band stomps and destroys harder than ever before, feeling like they’re about to take a city full of buildings down with them. Pianos then trickle like a mix of blood and rain, and that eventually overtakes the song and takes it to an elegant end. Closer “A Devourer of Fitting Shades Who Dwells in Rays of Light” is the shortest cut at 7:39, and its first half is like a fever dream as soundscapes spread and cause blurry eyes. Xylophones, warbled speaking, and strange guitars create a vortex of sound that is like walking through the fringes of a nightmare. At about the 5:30 mark, the beast rears its ugly head, and everything is dragged into hell. Throat-slaughtering growls, crushing playing, and an inferno of power whip into full strength before finally fading and disappearing into the universe.

Ingurgitating Oblivion’s rubbery, senses-obliterating death metal is in full force on “Vision Wallows In Symphonies Of Light,” their most ambitious record to date. They don’t tread death metal’s path with any sense of falling in line or desire to fit in with the pack. This band pushes all limits well past the boundaries, and their work should keep you guessing and panicking the whole way through this vicious record.

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

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

For more on the label, go here: http://www.willowtip.com/home.aspx

Life is chaos and infuriating more often than not. Anyone who denies that is living a lie or is so ensconced in dreamland to acknowledge what’s going on everywhere. Luckily, grind experimentalists Full of Hell seem well aware of this fact, and their volcanic records reflect that.

Their latest, “Trumpeting Ecstasy,” is an 11-track effort that, in true grind fashion, is over before you know it. I realized that I can listen to this record almost twice while doing my thrice weekly elliptical training, which is a fun time, right? The record, not the elliptical. That thing’s boring as fuck. Anyway, Full of Hell also are full of surprises, and one of the most surprising things about this record is it’s a fairly back-to-basics return to form for the band. They’re here to level you and leave no traces of DNA behind. The band—Spencer Hazard (guitars) Dylan Walker (vocals, electronics) David Bland (drums), Samuel DiGristine (bass)—holed up with the great Kurt Ballou at Godcity Studios to create this bastard, and they also got some great contributions from Aaron Turner (Sumac, Old Man Gloom), Nate Newton (Old Man Gloom, Converge, Doomriders), Andrew Nolan (Column of Heaven, the Endless Blockade), and singer-songwriter Nicole Dollanganger, who absolutely owns the song on which she participates. The result is another awesome Full of Hell document that tears holes in your equilibrium.

The record starts with a Warner Herzog quote warped to hell, with him talking about the environment being in misery, and then it’s off with a full-on assault, with fierce shrieks and gross growls entangling, and the band punishing fully. “Branches of Yew” blasts by in 51 seconds, as the vocals warp reality, and the band launches complete demolition. “Bound Sphinx” tears at your guts right away, as the chorus boasts a death metal-friendly barrage, leading into sludgy chaos and a noise-infested flood. “The Cosmic Vein,” as hinted, has strange space sounds spreading out before jerky crushing arrives and lands haymakers. The pace of the song blisters, while crazed shrieks get inside your head and dizzy you. “Digital Prison” is a 41-second blast that has the bass clobbering and death grunts going for the throat, and that’s followed by “Crawling Back to God,” an unnerving track that features strange robotic speaking, a groove-splattered grind assault, and riffy madness that leads to the song’s misery-inducing ending point.

“Fractured Quartz” is another 41-second smasher complete with virulent speed, growls and shrieks battling, and complete terror meted out. “Gnawed Flesh” has a thick bassline, more tangling vocals, and a nasty, guttural approach. “Man will always fail!” sounds like a battle cry, while the end of the track is muddy and clobbering. “Ashen Mesh” is off to the races right away, as the death growls sicken, and there even are a few moments where the song’s kind of catchy. The vocals get ugly again, while noise is smooshed over the finish. “At the Cauldron’s Bottom” is a really surprising one, featuring Dollanganger singing over what sounds like a dumpster fire of noise looking to take lives. Her presence transforms this song into something eerie and mystical, before the final minutes bruise anew and remind you that you’re not, in fact, living in a detached dream world. The closing title cut is the longest at 6:23, as the song tears apart and dumps heavy riffs into its chemical makeup. The title is growled and howled repeatedly, before the cries of, “We’re lost, we’re losing!” delivers a reality check before everything corrodes into a file of ash and filth.

Full of Hell keep their wheels grinding and their artillery firing on full with “Trumpeting Ecstasy,” a 24-minute record that’s going to be really hard to top from the entire contingent of grindcore bands combined. This record is vicious and sudden, a perfect example for why this band is held in such high regard. This is violent, aggravated shit that perfectly aligns with the goddamn miserable world in which we live.

For more on the band, go here: http://fullofhell.com/

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

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

It’s been a long week, and a lot of negativity has been going on in the world and, as a result, on this site. But it’s the end of the week, it’s a big weekend for metal here on the East Coast, and it won’t kill us to be excited about something for once in our awful lives.

We have a new record from Swedish death crew Sarcasm, and if you need another reason to feel happy, I can’t help you. It’s not often we get a Dark Descent release and feel happy and excited inside. Usually their records bring out the angst and repulsion in our blood, which is how we like it (and why we love their bands). But Sarcasm’s second record “Within the Sphere of Ethereal Minds” is a gigantic dose of classic Swedish death that should remind people of the glory days of that country’s metallic output. There’s good reason for that, because the band’s time stretches all the way back to 1990, so they’ve been there and seen everything that land has had to offer. They were a part of it, even if their debut record “Burial Dimensions” wasn’t formally released until last year (though it was recorded in 1994 and initially presented as part of a compilation in 2011), and they’re just now gaining a foothold. The band—vocalist Heval Bozarslan, guitarists Anders Eriksson and Peter Laitinen (the primary songwriter for this record), bassist Jonas Söder, and drummer Matte Modin—sounds absolutely on fire and raging on all cylinders on this record, which I’ve found myself listening to on repeat without even realizing it.

“Bloodsoaked Sunrise” opens the record and gets things off to an immediately raucous start. Strong riffs and vicious growls roll out along with the tempo that should, even against your will, have your head bashing. The track is a short, blistering assault that gets the gates open and the torches blazing. “From the Crimson Fog They Emerged” sounds like an adventure from its title, and it is. Speedy mauling and a raspy chorus are the highlights here, and they are enhanced by a devastating pace and Bozarslan howling, “Once again we are manifest in flesh!” “Embodiment of Source” starts with a mix of clean guitars and acoustics before glorious riffs tear out of the thing. Nasty, fierce growls lead the way, while savagery and melody mix, smearing blinding light with streaks of blood. “Scars of a Land Forgotten” rips apart right away, galloping toward you with reckless abandon, kicking up dust. Forceful growls and intense playing give this track its muscle, while the leads swirl, the drums devastate, and this dose of throwback death metal leaves you as heaping mess.

“In the Grip of Awakening Times” has riffs awakening and meeting up with glorious melodies, giving it a tasty vintage feel that glimmers. A storm of growls and violent, yet catchy playing lather you up nicely, while a trudging assault refuses mercy and chews everything in its way. “Silent Waves Summoned Your Inner Being” has huge riffs (if you haven’t already noticed, this thing is packed with riffs) and a satisfying blast of speed. The verses are raucous as hell, while the leads fly like majestic eagles, and the bloodshed comes to a creaky finish. “A Black Veil for Earth” is the longest track at 8:37, and its first couple minutes are built on establishing mood. As the clean guitars begin to wash away, a slow-driving pace is set, bringing the band closer to smothering doom than death. The track hulks along and the vocals snarl, while a later wave of quiet guitars breaks up the chaos before going back to monstrous scraping and then bleeding away. Closer “The Drowning Light at the Edge of Dawn” is fast and punchy, with wild vocals slicing away and the band forcing you into the heart of their metallic fury. This is their final salvo, so they make sure you’re shaken and beaten thoroughly, keeping their mission burning right up to its volcanic conclusion.

Sarcasm’s second record “Within the Sphere of Ethereal Minds” is a goddamn pleasure to behold, and while it has its ample share of darkness and despair, the record is just such a blast to listen to. Beaming with powerful riffs and guttural shrieks, as well as swelling melodies rich with Swedish goodness, Sarcasm are a huge reminder of the heyday of Scandinavian death metal. These guys still are operating at the top of their game, and this killer second record is all the proof anyone needs of their prowess.

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

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

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

It’s easy to be disgusted and just tired of everything right now. Just come to this site if you want to see that shit. I feel like I’ve written basically the same intro all year long because existence seems relatively futile right now, and the world is full of unknowing assholes. But how to channel that frustration into a singular sound?

Actually, three-piece Minnesota wrecking crew Buildings have that figured out on their raucous third record “You Are Not One of Us.” Side note: This record has some of the strangest cover art I’ve seen this year. But hey, it’ll stick out on a shelf. Back to the main point. On these 11 cuts that are furiously bass-driven (I’m saying that now so I don’t repeat myself every song) amalgamation of punk, hardcore, and noise rock, the band gives off the feeling of anger and hate, but not of the blind variety. These songs feel like the accumulation of disappointing experiences, dealing with dumb shits, and trying to make sense of everyday life that everything has turned them sour and pounded out a good sense of hate. These fellows— Brian Lake, Mike Baillie, Travis Kuhlman—sounds like they’re sitting right next to you at the bar during the daily tragedies known as news broadcast, with them nudging you like, “You believe these fucking guys?” I could be way off on this, but that’s how this music strikes me.

“Separated by Numbers” soaks in noise and feedback before launching ahead and taking on societal division many people deny is happening. “We’re segregated!” is a howl against class warfare, later followed by, “Hold up the rifle so I can aim down the barrel,” turning the sentiment hostile. “Net Waste” has the bass clobbering and wails of, “We got to let them hang!” that meet up with agitated guitars and a rising sound designed to drown out the senses. “Mouth Gift” reminds a bit of Pissed Jeans, with a simple, yet blunt chorus that rakes at the skin, and the shout of, “I bet she tastes so sweet!” leaving an uneasy impression. “Smell the Pool” is a crusher, as the vocals have a ton more attitude attached to them (not that they’re subtle elsewhere), and a damaged melody over the chorus that makes this feel mentally broken. “Palliative Care” again lets the bass drive, which it does hard as fuck, before it takes on some surfy guitars. The guitars chew at your nerve endings, while wild yells and a formidable rhythm section leaves welts. “Mother Nature” has hypnotic power and a tempo that forces itself into your comfort zone. The title is yelped over and over as the chorus hits hard, and noise takes the song out.

“Pray to the Toilet” isn’t about what you think it’s about from the title. No one is drunk and puking. Instead, amid a flurry of scowling yells, blunt talk singing, and sweet riffs, the band wonders if instead of you professing your faith if you “might as well pray to the toilet.” “Who is This” again has the bass dominating (I really am trying not to be redundant), the guitars buzzing like flies, and the vocals sounding like the epitome of psychological irritation. “Pastor Dick” opens with a riff that reminds me of old timey AC/DC. Just me? The vocals swagger, with the bark of, “You know it hurts sometimes,” promising nothing but hard times, as the guitars heat up and provide a punch-filled finish. “Creature” is jammed with bubbling guitars and lurching vocals, with the howls of, “You are my creature!” sending some chills. As the song winds down, the guitars leave deep scrapes, leading the way toward album finale “Pound.”  Guitars simmer, as the verses are delivered from a tormented throat. “You’re the queen!” is repeated, while the bass clubs you into oblivion. Later, guitars swirl and cause a strange hypnosis, while the final strains drip ominously into the sewer.

“You Are Not One of Us” resonates with me because I feel like Buildings are in my headspace. I’m tired of coming home from work, seeing the day’s events, and wanting to stand in front of a moving car. This band’s music feels like that hopelessness and distaste all balled up into 11 tracks that are just as nauseated as I am.

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

To buy the album (North America), go here: https://erodingwinds.com/products/buildings-you-are-not-one-of-us-lp

Or here (Europe): http://www.antenakrzyku.pl/en/product-category/shop/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.gileadmedia.net/

And here: http://www.antenakrzyku.pl/en/