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/

Dystopia seems to be a normal subject matter now that the world appears ready to explode at any moment. And if the time came when humankind was wiped from the map, what would be there to take the planet’s legacy into the future? If sci-fi storytelling is to be believed, it could be machines.

In fact, that very plotline is at the center of “Infrared Horizon,” the new record from Long Island-based tech death metal crushers Artificial Brain. Like the very evolution of creation they detail on this new 10-track album, the band shows amazing development from their strong debut “Labyrinth Constellation.” Musically, these songs bend and twist throughout the cosmos, not just showing a penchant for these musicians’ talents but also displaying a stunning amount of creativity. Vocally, Will Smith shows a great deal of diversity, still going for his gurgly squeals but also incorporating more death grunts and shrieks into his game. The rest of the band—guitarists Jon Locastro, Dan Garguilo (Revocation), and Oleg Zalman (Severed Savior), bassist Samuel Smith (Luminous Vault), drummer Keith Abrami—add fire and mind-melting fury to this story that imagines a future where humankind is extinct and robots and cyborgs outlive their creators.

“Floating in Delirium” begins the record with crushing, bizarre melodies before everything goes totally sci-fi and into space horror. Smith’s inhuman snarls come into focus, while the song rips everything apart and leaves only shambles. Gurgly and spacious, the song eventually bleeds out and paves the way for “Synthesized Instinct” that is outright blazing from the start. Tricky death and creaky growls and shrieks combine and show their force, while the song continues to morph creatively. There’s a really cool sounding chorus (I guess it’s a chorus) that chills your mind, while the back end feels like being forced through an alien compression machine. “Static Shattering” is speedy and shifty, with the pace mashing your fingers, and Smith delivering his story in blunt growls. A section of prog-fueled death emerges, while shrieked wails jar any sense of calm, and the song ends in a pit of menacing thrashing. “Estranged From Orbit” has a colder open, letting the freeze overtake you, before we’re back in the midst of a bloody, unforgiving assault. The bloodshed is fierce, as the band goes down bendy tunnels that rip your innards apart and deliver optimum punishment. But it’s not all total violence, as the band displays some really fluid, imaginative playing down the back stretch, ending the track in corrosion. The title track begins in sweltering heat before the song cracks open, and strange growls meet you. The track keeps evolving as it goes on, with violent crunches, strong soloing, and the entire thing sounding space bound. The final minutes are marked by slow mauling and monstrous noises that sound anything but friendly. By the way, the cut features appearance by Trevor Strnad of Black Dahlia Murder and Paulo Paguntalan of Copremesis and Gath Smane, who contributes to the outro.

“Anchored to the Inlayed Arc” erupts, with Smith’s crazed growls barreling out of control and the pace numbing everything. Horrifying growls and technically driven firepower lay waste to everything, as things come to a gross finish in a pile of intergalactic gloop. “Mist Like Mercury” has a cool start, turning into a muddy, tarry nightmare, with the music heading off in all directions. Ugly misery rears its head, while the guitars explore the entire abrasive terrain, the music spirals out of control, and you’re left on the ground with the world spinning out of control. “Vacant Explorer” is violent at the front end but also disarmingly melodic underneath the chaos. Creaky growls and speedy playing unite, while the pace swirls and causes vertigo. Animalistic shrieks arrive later, while the mood gets atmospheric, yet ugly, giving the song an odd, but fitting finish. “Graveyard of Lightless Planets” trudges through the mud, while growls belch and guitars reach all over. The bulk of the song feels more like prog than death, though that doesn’t mean it’s not oppressively heavy. The final moments fade out into a black hole of noise that bleeds right into closer “Ash Eclipse.” A monstrous explosion and gross vocals greet you, while a run of imaginative playing is torn to shreds by a violent assault. The pace then gets even meaner, slaying with a thrashy abandon, bringing a storm of outright savagery. As the song winds toward its final destination, the playing gets rubbery, yet thunderous, leaving the song in a sticky mess of alien goo.

Artificial Brain remain one of the most inventive, damaging technical death metal bands out there right now, and “Infrared Horizon” is an astonishing creation by a band that is boiling in their own bizarre juices. I tend to veer away from a lot of tech-minded death because it often feels so cold and heartless, trading in soul for chops. Not Artificial Brain. These guys can destroy you with their prowess and get your brain wrapped around their futuristic nightmare in a little less than 48 minutes.

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

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

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

Photo by Hilja Mustonen

Now isn’t the time to be fucking around. There’s a lot of serious, bad shit going on everywhere, and things feel close to blowing up from all the tension and violence. Yes, diversions from real life can be healthy. But sometimes you have to stare the thing in the face, acknowledge what’s going on, and get really pissed off about it.

Some great inspiration comes from Finnish crossover beasts Foreseen, whose second record “Grave Danger” is a fast, menacing, and punishing affair that’s not about to jab its tongue in its cheek. If a record could even do that. Instead, we get eight straight piledrivers about the shit going on in this world and their piss and venom about what the state of affairs. Oddly, even though they’re not trying to distract you with humor or alternate subject matter, you might come away feeling rejuvenated, knowing there are other people who clearly see the shit rainbow smeared across the sky and aren’t about to ignore it. The band—vocalist Mirko Nummelin, guitarists Erkka Korpi and Jaakko Hietakangas, bassist Joonas Hakaste, and drummer Marten Gustafsson—are full of rage and destruction, hurling their take on the world’s scene and what’s leading to this piss bath, all the while thrashing the hell out of you.

“Violent Discipline” starts the record with a ripping assault complete with ferocious vocals, furious gang shouts, and a nasty trip into some bludgeoning thrash. The soloing burns off the scum on the surface, as the song comes to a hammering end. “Chemical Heritage” mashes away, as Nummelin’s maniacal shouts leave welts on your skin. The guitars light up brightly over the rousing chorus, and the bulk of the song simmers in deadly speed. “Fearmonger” is fast and punchy, with a simple chorus for shouting back live, and the tempo shifting enough to result in vertigo. A thrash groove and razor-sharp solo brings the song to a thunderous end. “Bloodline” is crunchy and trudging, with the shouts echoing, and classic metal-style guitar work adding extra muscle. Most of the song is nasty and galloping, and the track gets a white-hot finish.

“Downward Spiral” has crazy riffs spraying shrapnel, while animalistic wails and group shouts give the song added levels of raucous energy. The soloing rips a hole in the thing, as the gas pedal is stomped into the floor, and gang shouts of, “Downward spiral!” inject adrenaline. The title cut chugs as the thick bass swaggers into the meat of the song. Blunt growls and savage playing thicken the assault, while the heavy thrashing and forceful lead guitar work push the tempo over the top. “Government Cuts” is heavy as fuck, which may seem hyperbolic considering what preceded it, but this is ante-upping material. Raspy howls and metallic leads reveal a show of force, while ’80s-flavored metal and a pace that keeps rocketing jars the bones. Finally, the song settles into the heart of the fire, while sinewy bass bruises, and eerie noises and various radio reports give the chill of global emergency. “Suicide Bomber” caps off the set, a track that doesn’t even reach two minutes but makes the most of its run plastering with spat-out vocals, pure chaos, and a crushing, vicious end.

I often think people are not pissed off or disgusted enough about what is going on right now, but that does not extend to Foreseen. With “Grave Danger” as evidence, these 29 minutes blister its audience and lob verbal grenades at the people who threaten our very existence due to their self-serving actions. There is a lot of fighting that’s going to need to take place into the future, and Foreseen sound like they’re going to be right along those at the front line of the battle.

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

To buy the album or for more on the label, go here: https://www.20buckspin.com/

Black metal being a lawless society with no rules and barbarians at its gates to ensure no one creates any is a huge myth. There are a ton of guidelines artists are not supposed to go break, and when people go their own way, they’re not seen as true or real. It’s pretty funny, really, and it’s nice that so many bands have ignored that and gone their own way.

German black metal dreamers Farsot long have gone past the original rigid rules and have created a space very much of their own control. Creating similar tributaries as etched by bands such as Enslaved and Oranssi Pazuzu, Farsot have pushed their sound into the atmosphere and have recognized feral brutality is not the only way to make captivating black metal. Over their time together (which dates farther back that their recorded catalog), the band has delivered three mind-bending records, the latest being “Fail·Lure,” a six-track, nearly 48-minute journey into subject matter so refreshingly off the beaten-to-death black metal path. Influenced by Peter Greenway’s 1988 film “Drowning By Numbers” (a tale of three women successfully drowning their husbands), as well as Art Nouveau works by artists including Knopff and Klimt, the band creates a tale rife with all the tenets bringing down societies since day one, as well as rifts between the sexes that have been amplified, especially here in America, over the past half decade. The members—III . XXIII (guitars), XX . XVI, (strings), X.XIX (vocals, lyrics), XX . VIII (bass, keys), XIX . XVIII (drums and percussion)—only go by strange initials and shroud their faces, ensuring the focus is on their art and not the people behind these messages.

“Vitriolic” starts the record with an eerie path of noises that spread before the song opens into atmospheric, melodic black metal that soars. Creaky growls mix with strange singing, something that happens quite a bit on this record, while the track then goes into space and hits orbit. Once it returns, the pace grinds away while the drama keeps lapping like waves, and the track drowns in acoustics and whispers. “Circular Stains” stars in a clean, progressive vein, as whispers return and circle, before the tempo rips a hole in the ambiance. Those Enslaved comparisons come into focus a bit, while throaty growls and sorrowful singing lead the plot. Cleaner guitars rain down, while growls scrape as the song spirals away. “With Obsidian Hands” begins clean but also with hearty howls. A synth wash settles in as buzzing growls make their presence felt. The pace chugs and takes on a proggy feel, while acoustics push in and help the song transition from dark to light. Later, the bass work bursts, while the keys hint of outer space travel as everything melts into the stars.

“Under Currents” starts with muscular riffs that bring the bruising. Growls and robotic speaking mix with chaos, but then breezy guitar work soothes the bleeding nerve endings. The song then goes into psychedelic dreaming, as the tempo ramps up, and a dose of spirited punishment is meted out and enthralls. Sounds hang in the air, while a gust of noise pushes in and removes the breath from your lungs. “The Antagonist” starts in an unexpected Western vibe, but it’s not long before maniacal growls arrive, and the song sparks the imagination. Buzzing singing numbs, while the music rips open and brings a sense of vertigo to the piece, along with shouts of “Who am I?” that loop and blend into the final streaks of trance. Closer “A Hundred to Nothing” is an instrumental piece with a bass-heavy start that falls into a pit of trickling guitar and atmospheric pressure. Strong melodies and proggy thunder combine with some low-rumbling whispers as the song melts away.

Farsot’s deep imagination and yearning for something outside the normal parameters of black metal is what gives us collections as riveting as “Fail·Lure.” They’ve managed to come up with something that fits in with but also stands apart from the rest of their catalog, as well as a piece of work that stretches your mind into other realms of thinking. The gatekeepers may want to keep black metal confined to a tiny box, but as long as bands such as Farsot are willing to destroy those boundaries, they’re going to be the ones to grow the sound well into the future.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://en.prophecy.de/pre-order-bundles/

For more on the label, go here: http://en.prophecy.de/

Satan. He sure gets around, huh? That guy’s face and influence are all over metal, and he has been a major force pretty much from the start of the genre. Now, there are bands that aren’t just making music about the horror version of Satan but are branching out and paying homage to spiritual forces that are very far and away from the Biblical version of the devil.

Yet, we still have bands in our midst that go the terrifying bloodshed route with the fellow downstairs, and one of them is French death machine Necrowretch. Over the course of their first two records, both released by Century Media, the band has done its best to return death and black metal to the grave, reminding that this style of music is best when it’s played in the ugliest form possible. On their new and third effort “Satanic Slavery,” they’ve added more elements of pure evil to their mission, making this their bloodiest, most blasphemous record to date. All of this during Holy Week at that! Nonetheless, with Season of Mist now behind them, this band—guitarist/vocalist Vlad, guitarist /bassist Kev Desecrator, and drummer Ilmar—unleashes a hellacious assault over eight tracks and nearly 39 minutes. This is an ideally portioned record that makes the most of its time and absolutely devastates without mercy.

“Sprawl of Sin” begins the record with a weird soundscape before the cut rips open and goes for the throat. A nasty path of death is beaten, with a glass-gargling chorus and the guitars lighting up. The soloing is razor sharp, with an awesome classic feel before the track crushes all the way to its finish. “Tredeciman Blackfire” is furious and blinding, with vicious growls and grinding death mashing flesh. The pace is grim and stomping, with Vlad wailing about “evil prophecies,” and the final minutes going raw and metallic, with death bells stinging. The title cut is utterly savage, cutting a path toward the lungs and making a case for the evil one’s powers. The track makes it feel like your muscles are being mangled in a blender, with growls plastering and guitars swirling. “Evil Names” dips into doom waters but also unleashes riffs that sound like vintage Slayer. The drums pulverize as the music spills into mind-warping territory, with the guitars spilling fire and devastating thrashing leaving massive bruises.

“Hellspawn Pyre” is heavy as hell and blasts through cement walls, with the guitars boiling and the pace spewing violence. Every moment of this track is vicious and punishing, leaving massive dents everywhere. “Bestial Rites” erupts with drums blasts spraying and the pace clobbering. The growls are vicious and animalistic, as the chorus sheds blood and grinds at flesh, and stunning riffs hurtling toward the finish. “Curse of Blasphemy” is mucky and ugly, launching into raw chaos and a chorus that barks its orders. Unhinged cries do their damage physically and mentally, while the title is howled repeatedly and is chock full of terror. Closer “Verses From the Depth” destroys from moment one, with inhuman growls arriving and the drums eating away like acid. While most of the track sickens and the bulk of the vocals sound delivered by a mad man, the final moments change things. Proggy guitar work lands, as if from the cosmos, and a final fire-breathing solo drags the record to its killer end.

Necrowretch keep alive the more traditional tenets of death and black metal on “Satanic Slavery,” a record that makes no bones about its blood bathing in pure evil. The music is ripping and deadly, and the album itself is some of their most immediate music. This is metal that isn’t trying to win awards or critical accolades and only cares about how much plasma is spilled.

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

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

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

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

Photo by Jehnifer Mickalacki Sublett

Metal tends to lean toward hyperbole and words that the members involved with bands can’t quite live up to on record. It happens. It’s an extreme music form, things are meant to be over the top, and often band names, song titles, and album names can promise things that can’t always be delivered.

That takes us to new death metal force Extremity and their debut record “Extremely Fucking Dead.” On the surface, it seems like it’s putting a lot out there based on those words alone. But then you put this thing on, and holy shit if you’re not extremely fucking dead when it’s over. This six-track, nearly 27-minute debut record is the product of some super reliable, heavy hitting members of metal’s underground, namely guitarist/vocalist Marissa Martinez-Hoadley (Cretin), guitarist/vocalist Shelby Lermo (Vastum, Ulthar), bassist Erika Osterhout (Femacoffin, Necrosic), and drummer Aesop Dekker (Vhöl, Worm Ouroboros, and formerly of Agalloch). So, really, it should have been obvious from moment one that this thing was going to destroy, and that’s exactly what it does.

“Intro (Mortuus Est Valde)” is a quick piece that basically does what the title says it does: greet you at the horrifying door and pull you face first into the stench. “Crepuscular Crescendo” punishes right away, as the throaty growls and fierce leads do battle for your soul, with the only winner being bloodshed. It’s punchy death, both gritty and ugly, with the howl of, “There’s no escape from this hell!” bringing sobering reality you might not be ready to face. “Bestial Destiny” blisters and sends you into battle with Bolt Thrower-style guitar work that’s nasty and satisfying. The track stomps your guts, while Martinez-Hoadley and Lermo trade wails and screams. The track charges hard into fiery soloing, and the vicious back end of the song brings everything to a bloody end.

“Chalice of Pus” not only sounds delicious, it also delivers animalistic fury that should scare the shit out of you. The band hits a heavy, muddy groove as the vocals choke you to near unconsciousness, and the soloing fans the flames of chaos. The guttural madness spreads like plague from there, burying you in total ugliness. “Fatal Immortality” stomps the ground so hard, it practically measures seismically, and the growls of, “A smoking gun, a bullet in your head!” pay off in deadliness and backhand-across-the-mouth insults. The track is devastating and purely driven to salt your wounds. The closing title cut tears into flesh, as the growls maul any sense you have remaining. Striking soloing and sore throat-inducing vocals mix, as the album title is snarled over and over again, as they beat their point into you. Finally, as the song chugs and chews away at your throat, you receive mercy in the oddest of final sounds: a flatline stretching to the record’s end.

Extremity pays dividends repeatedly on “Extremely Fucking Dead,” a pure death metal assault that doesn’t mess around and goes right for the throat. This band isn’t relying on their members’ well-respected resumes and sound as hungry and vicious as a group trying to earn their first reputation. This is a fat-trimmed, gut-wrenching display that’s bloody, violent, and ripe for repeated listens.

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

To buy the album and for more on the label, go here: https://www.20buckspin.com

Rebirth and resurrection are two tenets that comprise common threads in most of our lives, mainly through religion. Whether it’s the literal rising from the dead or just a new outlook or way of seeing one’s life, these two occurrences are so engrained in most of our cultures that it shouldn’t be hard to come up with a story or personal example of either one.

Danish wrecking machine Hexis also have their own take, and that is smeared all over their thunderous second record “Tando Ashanti.” The title itself references the demon Tando Ashanti, who demands sacrifice of 14 people, seven men and seven women, at the same time. That’s grim on its own, but the journey Hexis have built into this record and these 11 songs doesn’t simply bow to the powers of the dark. Shadowy as their intent may be, they have woven in a narrative of resurrection of the weak and dead, a path you can follow to whatever conclusion you find. The band isn’t super black and white about the meaning of all of this, so it’s your job to comb through this nearly 39-minute battlefield for clarity and understanding. This must be done by essentially mining a battlefield with the war still raging on, and there’s no guarantee you’ll land on anything before having your face ripped apart.

“Tando” tears off the lid with guitars charging and hanging in the air, as well as strange whispers and feedback contributing to the horror factor. “Ashanti” explodes with grim guitars, throaty growls, and a tempo that boils and crushes. The riffs slow down and sludge later, with sounds stinging and the thick bass bruising. “Molestus” has melodies contorting and the pace chugging violently, as the track works toward the jugular. Howls of “nightmare!” repeat and thrash, as the cut dissolves into acid. “Ritualis” scrapes skin off the surface while the riffs lather like thick oil. The growls are cement-grade rivers, while the band piledrives into and through the chaos. “Calamitas” has dramatic, urgent riffs that storm, and the intensity of the thing could have you on the verge of a blackout. The vocals wrench, and the tempo that mauls from front to back finally lets you have a breath. “Nocturnus” is one of the longer cuts on here, setting into a hardcore-style offensive before everything chills out a bit. The music has a calculated feel for a stretch before the churning starts again, and the vocals turn bones into fine powder.

“Opacus” feels like being caught in the gears of heavy machinery, as your insides are twisted, and your pain points hit their apex. The track is monstrous, decimating before eventually bleeding away. “Cordolium” has guitars collecting in an ashen cloud before coating the ground. The track slowly hulks, while the growls rip holes, and the guitars spit sparks. Everything swells and is pulled into a tornadic terror, with the vocals curdling and the song ripping toward its end and right into “Resurrection.” There, noise drone foams up and spreads, with the harsh cries dragged over top. From there, it’s a slow grind to its end. “Septem” is aggravated and blinding with rage, as the vocals crush the gears, and the guitars swirl. In fact, most of this song is dizzying and disorienting, paving the way for the merciless finish of “Presagium.” Damaged guitars and thorny vocals mix while the pace jackhammers everything in sight, and the final minutes are comprised of strange coldness and a dense noise cloud that chokes away all.

Hexis’ mission is a dark and foreboding one, never more obvious than on “Tando Ashanti.” This band’s penchant for mixing hardcore, black metal, and doom is potent, and over two records now, they’ve charred those standing in front of them. This record is as deadly as they come, and you could leave this thinking you bear the black mark of the next one up on the demon’s chopping block.

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

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

Or here: http://www.doomrock.com/

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

And here: http://www.no-pasaran.org/welcome/

There is a special place for bands that don’t simply give you album experiences but also add something transcendent to their work. It’s not just a matter of being overwhelmed by their music, and the decibolic madness contained within. It’s also a gateway to something else that isn’t attainable by any other means, no matter how far your imagination may stretch.

Colorado-based black metal wanderers Nightbringer never just release a collection of songs. Their strange, esoteric ways are woven into the fabric of their music, and playing one of their records sometimes makes it seem like you’re on the doorstep to a convulsion. Their new opus “Terra Damnata” is another bizarre trip down a wormhole toward a plane of existence and understanding you didn’t know was possible. Each of their five records provide a sort of atmospheric, out-of-control adventure you can’t control or even possibly predict. It has been that way since their 2008 debut “Death and the Black Work” and continued to bleed into their last album “Ego Dominus Tuus” in 2014. On this record, the band—vocalist/guitarist Naas Alcameth, guitarist VJS, bassist Norgaath, drummer Menthor, guitarist/vocalist Ophis, vocalist ar Ra’d al Iblis—get more symphonic and layered, always bludgeoning you but keeping your head so full of mysticism, you cannot help but be entranced.

“As Wolves Amongst Ruins” starts us in the midst of absolute chaos as guitars contort and rain down, and maniacal howls remind you of the rare atmosphere in which you’re encased. Strange bouts of speaking and bizarre melodies continue the push, while eerie keys take over and help the track wash away. “Misrule” unleashes tornadic riffs, mad blasts, and crazed shrieks, leading into a dizzying pace and a cloud of fury that hangs in the air. Later, the growls spin your heart and mind as the song settles into its resting place. “Midnight’s Crown” once again puts the room at a spin, with humid ambiance and speedy playing jostling your nerve endings. Strange warbling and heavy synth waves increase the drama, while the music spirals toward the ground, and a huge symphonic finish adds strange texture. “Of the Key and Crossed Bones” is delirious and savage right off the bat, as the tempo drubs unforgivingly, and the drums punish relentlessly. Monstrous vocals mix with enrapturing melodies, causing the pace to sicken and enthrall equally before mystical final moments drag everything back into the fog.

“Let Silence Be His Sacred Name” has keys dripping like cold rain before total eruption sends shrapnel flying. The track binds up your guts with its horrific twisting and turning before the band settles into a nasty thrash groove. The storming only continues from there, as violent outbursts charge hard before atmospheric pressure subsides, and keys blur out the picture. “Inheritor of a Dying World” sets the music to a boil, as wails of, “Inherit the world of dust!” jars the mind. The music goes cold for a stretch before the band starts landing heavy punches again, sprawling and ripping, as calls of, “There is no solace,” only adding to the uneasiness before everything subsides. “The Lamp of Inverse Light” has more off-kilter tones and a really bizarre set of surroundings, almost like you’ve entered an even higher level of Nightbringer. Ghostly speaking mixes in with the spiritual chaos, setting the stage for closer “Serpent Sun.” Wrenching guitars and crushing vocals make their way toward you before terrible shrieks and vicious bursts up the ante of terror. The drums burst and the riffs twist into a tight ball, while horrific growls send the final messages before the track ends abruptly.

Five albums in, and Nightbringer continue to be one of the most inventive, spiritually mysterious bands in all black metal, and you need no further proof than “Terra Damnata.” Their dark works only grow stranger and more violent as time goes on, and their mission gets even tougher to figure out completely. That’s part of the wonder in taking on this band, since they know no boundaries physically nor mentally and leave no hints as to where their mission will take them next.

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

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

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

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