In this day and age, many people abhor violence when it comes to the affairs of one’s country. True, we have advanced and hopefully are beyond those action, but just about every corner of the Earth had their country’s current status set the way it is due to violence, justified or not.

Scottish black metal outfit Cnoc an Tursa do not shy away from their homeland’s bloody past. It’s a huge part of their folk-infused sound, and their amazing second record “The Forty Five” pays homage to the Jacobite Uprising of 1745, led by Charles Edward Stuart (better known as Bonnie Prince Charlie) to take the throne from King George II and return it to the House of Stuart. While the effort ultimately failed, it stands as an example of putting forth a plan and doing what you must for the betterment of one’s homeland. We’re locked in a strange time in the United States right now where people are trying to figure out what’s best for this land and are lining up trying to find a way to defend what’s right. So, “The Forty Five” lands at a perfect time for us as we search for inspiration.

Cnoc an Tursa, which means “hill of the standing stone,” have been around a little over a decade now, but they only have two records to their name. Granted, those have been pretty strong albums, with their debut “The Giants of Auld” landing in 2013, and now “The Forty Five” arriving four years later. There’s an amazing energy to the band. It’s nearly impossible to listen to this record and not have your heart set ablaze. The band—guitarist/vocalist Alan Buchan, guitarist/keyboardist Rene McDonald Hill, bassist Tony Hill, drummer Bryan Hamilton—channels something similar to Amon Amarth, albeit in a different style, as they find ways to make their music approachable and brutal, catchy and crushing. This record is ridiculously fun, even when they’re looking back at a bloody surge that colored their nation’s history.

“Will Ye No Come Back Again” kicks off as an introductory cut, with winds blowing, Scottish-style music in the background, and pianos dripping before launching into “The Yellow Locks of Charlie,” which starts with folkish whistles before the track opens up. The guitars drive like a storm, while a furious tempo and wild howls lead the way. The track has a glorious, epic feel, with pianos bleeding in later, group chants causing your emotions to surge, and the back end of the song dissolving into the heart of battle before it gallops off. “The Standard on the Braes O’Mar” feels like it jolts out of a cannon, with a power metal-style rush leading the way, grim growls bruising, and no shortage of playing that should have your imagination running wild. “Wha Wadna Fecht for Charlie” has epic riffs and a heartfelt pace, with surging melodies, vocals that drip with emotion, and later the charge going cold, letting in some chilling air before blasting off again. The song again captures you, unloading onto your senses, before the thing comes to an end with an eerie, whispery dialog.

“Flora Macdonald,” a hero in the Jacobite Uprising, is lauded with a brief instrumental that contains blurry keys, strings, and a gothic hint. “Sound the Pibroch” has a round of gang shouts before the song shoves off, erupting in total chaos. The growls are furious, while the choruses are rousing, and as the track keeps going, it always finds new ways to reignite the fires. Later, the song heads into a fog, but out of that are more infectious melodies that rise and bleed away. “Fuigheall” crushes everything in front of it, bringing back gothy tendencies, with the song blasting into plinking keys and sheets of synth. Bagpipes pop in, bringing a folk texture, before another explosion sends dirt flying before the track ends in calm choral sections and raucous drums. Closer “The Last of the Stuarts” is serene at first, with acoustic guitars spreading and hand drumming acting like a heartbeat. Of course, that quiet is momentary, as the track tears open, and the band powers forward. Great lead guitar work and compelling playing provide the power, while the vocals rip, and the drums blast you. A repeated recitation of the song title loops over and over, as the music continues to spill thunder, and the track and record get a hearty, explosive end.

Cnoc an Tursa’s music finds a way to chisel into your heart and bones and light up intensity inside of you. “The Forty Five” is a fantastic record, a huge step forward for this band and more proof their music deserves every ounce of your attention. The world is in a strange place right now, and no one knows how things will even out. Having music like this should help galvanize your emotions and keep all us striving for what we think is right.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://apocalyptic-witchcraft.myshopify.com/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.apocalypticwitchcraft.co.uk/

Photo by Rafał Kotylak (www.kotylak.pl)

The saying that one wears emotions on his or her sleeves is one that has debatable origins. Some believe it started with Shakespeare, while others attribute it to the Middle Ages, when Emperor Claudius II forbade marriage in order to make better soldiers, and the troops wore the name of the woman with whom he’d couple on his sleeve. Whatever the reason, it’s become synonymous with someone who expresses emotions outwardly.

That can apply to Polish black metal band Mord’A’Stigmata, as their run has been one filled with music that swells your heart and senses and makes you want to bleed along with them. Their new record “Hope,” the band’s fourth, takes that sentiment even further, as each ounce of this thing brims with the creators’ shed blood, which is smeared all over these songs. The band—vocalist/bassist Ion, guitarists Static and Golem XIV, and drummer DQ—has been devastating the metal world since 2004 with their darkness (Static is the only remaining original member from their birth), starting with 2008 debut “Überrealistic.” From there, the band has returned on a fairly regular clip, with “Antimatter” arriving in 2011, and “Ansia” dropping in 2013. In fact, that last full-length tilted the band toward what you hear on “Hope,” as these four songs take what was set there and expand that even further into the murk and land of human devastation. It’s quite the wrenching listen.

The title cut begins the record and trickles in, where it’s met with gruff growls and sudden melody surges. The tempo goes back and forth from aggressive to calm for a while, with clean singing bleeding in, and psychedelic notes blending into the mix and creating new layers of darkness. The pace then begins to trudge, with cold notes spraying down like a freezing drizzle, and strong lead guitars stretch out and display new shades. Noise hangs in the air as spacey keys arrive, and the track has a huge finish. “The Tomb From Fear and Doubt” slowly unravels, taking its time to set up its mood and, along the way, becoming more compelling as the piece builds. The vocals get churning while the heaviness arrives, as the song continues to get massive and spacious. Later, some proggy passages make their way in, changing things up again, and the drums roll as the cut goes into a synth fog. From there, the song gets grittier, as soloing is unleashed and spreads, with the final minutes picking up again and charging out.

“To Keep the Blood” starts with grim riffs and the sound slowly expanding. The bulk of the song is in a crushing mid-tempo, which suits the mood, and as Ion wails, “My son is gone!” the impact of the morbidity hits home. Speak-style warbling adds mystery, while strong playing tightens the muscles of this thing, and more psyche-style splashes mix up the recipe. Finally, the growls chew away at your nerve endings, and the track comes to a steely finish. The closing chapter “In Less Than No Time” has a cataclysmic start, feeling like the stars are falling from the sky, while gothic undertones make things feel damp and misty. The track is flush with cloudy melodies, while the vocals wrench, and the emotion hits another high. Black metal-style riffs bring added toughness, and from there, Ion howls, “My heart turns into a stone!” seemingly hinting at a state of permanence to the darkness. The song continues to gush as it reaches it ending, as the vocals are expressive cries, soloing soars over the clouds, and the track eventually fades away, like a memory slowing losing its vivid outer edges.

Mord’A’Stigmata’s form of expression is heavy and weighs down on you, and if you experience that as a listener, imagine how these guys felt putting the music together. “Hope” is a crushing collection that will weigh you down and expect you to absorb all the pain and feelings that went into it. Doing so might push you to your edge, but it also might make you more capable of absorbing life’s constant miseries.

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

To buy the record, go here: http://www.pagan-records.com/webshop/shoper5/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.pagan-records.com/

Photo by Karlee Barr

A lot of people are feeling hopeless right now, like our very existence structure is coming down on us and weighing down on our chests until we suffocate. Or that’s at least how many Americans feel right now, and since we think we’re the center of the Earth, noting else could be so dire, right? Nonetheless, it’s a challenging time to be alive no matter where you exist, and that pressure doesn’t show any signs of letting up so we can fill our lungs.

Iowa-based doom trio Aseethe’s music contains a lot of those tenets. While they carry many of the trademarks of the sub-genre’s sound, they do so with thick pockets of drone, a heavy sense of funeral woe, and even a decent helping of strangeness that help make them stand out in the pack. The band’s new record “Hopes of Failure” feels like a fitting moniker to drape over these times, and it shows the group—bassist/vocalist Danny Barr, guitarist/vocalist/synth player/noise raiser Brian Barr, drummer Eric Diercks—in even darker terrain than on their monumental 2011 debut “Reverent Burden.” Over the years since that time, the band has released a few EPs, but they really honed in on what they are on the four songs heard here. These are mammoth, unforgiving journeys into madness, complete with clubbing power, vocals that sound like they’re raking at your wounds, and an unmistakable heaviness that feels like all of gravity caving in on you.

The record opens with 11:22 “Sever the Head,” which starts the devastation right away, with savage howls and slowly crawling doom starting the bruising. The growls switch to shrieks, as the pace continues to sludge along before the song goes clean. But that’s only a momentary leave, as the track picks up again in a calculating march, everything begins to churn harder, and the back end hits a burly swagger as the song gives way. “Towers of Dust” is a massive 8:32 instrumental that’s built on a strong foundation of riffs. The song gets heavier and more massive as it collects debris, with the playing sounding muddy and defiant, and a colossal bludgeoning ripping through the surface during the cut’s final minutes as everything blows off into dust.

“Barren Soil” is a generous 9:03 and unloads droning bass, pained growls, and crushing waves of doom. The song gets mean and nasty, grinding your flesh into the concrete, as the vocals sound furious and unhinged as they pelt down misery. From there, noise boils, tortured cries meet blood-curdling gurgles, and the end is gritty and toppling. The closer is the 13:53 epic “Into the Sun” that is burly and animalistic, with weird tones floating into the scene before the hammer is dropped hard. The song feels like a raging fire that, every time it calms, someone agitates it with a heaping serving of fuel. There also is a nice bit of atmosphere present in this track, though that eventually gets consumed by the miserable low end of the track. The song later goes into a chilling section, with strange, detached singing sprawling, before the ugliness returns. The final minutes have the band laying waste to whatever is in front of them with gut-wrenching chaos and blistering riffs that spill the final buckets of blood.

Aseethe’s earth-toppling “Hopes of Failure” is a cataclysmic high spot on doom’s early year, and it’s enough to bring everything down upon you. Mentally, it might already feel like that’s happening (it does to me), so this record can stand as a metallic example of that crumbling. Few bands come as heavy and calculated as Aseethe, and this record will cave in your chest.

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

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

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

Photo by David Goldman

Every year, sports teams in leagues all over try to cram their teams with choice free agents, going on huge spending sprees designed to ensure championship glory. Instead, the opposite almost always happens. Whether it’s egos clashing or chemistry just not coming together, it seems jamming big personalities and talents into the same pool often leads to a team drowning, not excelling.

That example could have been applied to Crystal Fairy, a new band jamming together some incredibly well-known and noteworthy musicians into one space. Instead, the four members gelling magically, becoming a force that must be heard to be believed. Initially, it was exciting hearing Teri Gender Bender (Le Butcherettes, Bosnian Rainbows), Omar Rodriguez-Lopez (At the Drive In, the Mars Volta, Bosnian Rainbows) and Melvins members Buzz Osbourne and Dale Crover had banded together to form an insane supergroup, but what would the result be? Those are some big personalities locked into this thing, so it would be logical if everything consumed each other. Instead, everyone galvanized each other, and the four here have a synergy and chemistry that cannot be denied on their awesome self-titled debut. Over these 11 tracks, the band unleashes punk, sludge, doom, glam, you name it, with Gender Bender not-so-surprisingly ruling the entire world on vocals. In fact, for as great as her past work is, this might be her most energetic and explosive performance.

“Chiseler” begins the record on a punk-fueled assault, with the guitars trudging and wailing, and Gender Bender howling, “Hide yourself from the sun after you melt!” A strong psychedelic solo bleeds out, and that takes us into “Drugs on a Bus” that has a sneaky lead riff, organs swelling, and doom mud accumulating. The singing swelters over the top, but just as the energy flares, things cool down, the track hits storytelling mode, and the music blasts away. “Necklace of Divorce” has goddamn cock rock riffs, with Gender Bender’s vocals getting deeper and raspier. “I want nothing/You want loving!” she calls, and she gets more aggressive as the song goes, turning into an animal spirit. “Moth Tongue” is twitching and slurring at the start, with Gender Bender tearing out high-register cries that sound like heyday Geddy Lee. The guitars are fluid and a little bluesy, while the back end is heavy as shit. “Crystal Fairy” has jarring riffs, face-melting playing, and more fierce singing, with the attitude spilling out of the seams. “Secret Agent Rat” is a fun one, with sludgy riffs, the playing sneering, and the vocals delivered in Spanish. It’s a killer cut that corrodes in noise.

“Under Trouble” breaks out with spacey zapping and weird, strutting guitar work, giving off a Queens of the Stone Age vibe. This song differentiates itself from the rest of the pack and is the dirtiest, filthiest cut on the record. “Bent Teeth” lets the bass chew the scenery, as the tempo stomps away. More psyche-washed guitars spill into the scene, while the soloing lights everything ablaze, and Gender Bender rules with an iron fist. The final three tracks all tick in under three minutes and give the record a rapid-fire finish. “Posesion” is a cover of a Tales of Terror song (though theirs was spelled “Possession”), and it has delirious guitar work and bizarre, hellish imagery in the lyrics, and it’s an insane amount of fun. “Sweet Self” is dusty and weird, a cut that blasts by with Gender Bender howling, “You’re living a lie!” over and over again. Closer “Vampire X-Mas” has the most metallic approach of any of the songs, with guitars cutting through steel, and Gender Bender delivering a manic chorus where she yells, “Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Release the bell before the snow retracts!” The track is punchy and ridiculous, putting one hell of a smoking exclamation point on the end of the album.

Yeah, so a team of all stars might not always work in other arenas, but Crystal Fairy prove you can push together major forces and come out with each member contributing positively to the greater good. Whether this record is a one-off effort or if it’s a band with a future, we’ll always have these 11 tracks that knocked us on our asses first time around and has delivered with every visit. This is a record that, if you just need something to light a fire underneath you, it will jolt your blood pressure every damn time.

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

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

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

Doom metal is supposed to be ugly and unkind. If it’s not, you’re probably doing it wrong. Anyone who says he or she goes to doom metal to feel happy and alive is a liar, because the very name of the sub-genre tells you what you need to know. Doom shouldn’t be perceived as friendly or kind.

Florida-based Weltesser have that thinking down pat. They come from the land of scummy, brawny death metal (and there is some of that in their DNA), but they instead dwell where the ugliest of doom crawl. The band’s debut record “Crestfallen” is a massive, brooding effort that’s as unfriendly a collection as you’re going to find. The band—vocalist/guitarist Nate Peterson, bassist Ian Hronek, drummer Mike Amador—are veterans of groups such as Rotting Palms, Landbridge, and Sky Burial, and here, they expose a menace and terror that not all doom artists understand. If there is a negative, it’s that the band still could infuse more of their own identity and personality into the music. Not a huge negative at all. I feel like as Weltesser grow and develop, this part of their craft will come around. They have the doom part down, but making it a part of them is their next step.

The record opens with “Regret,” where grimy doom mixes with harsh feedback, and guttural growls join the fray. As the song goes on, the pace is beaten into the ground, as the thing slows to a violent crawl, wild howls erupt, and the track comes to a tortured close. “Guide” has thick bass plodding along, as the blows are delivered in a calculated pace, and vicious growls rip at the skin. Soloing pulls out and stings, and then the tempo changes up just a but before twisting to its finish. “Living to Try” unleashes scorching noise before hitting a Sabbath-style mauling that turns slurry and sludgy. The track clubs away at you, sure to leave bruises, while unhinged growls pound away as the song bleeds out.

“Terminal” rips at your ear drums, as the track spills into a noise rock-style assault, as the blistering tones do optimal damage. Throaty howls and a newfound level of nastiness arrive, kicking up sparks and spiraling out on an echo. “Rats” is smothering and terror-infested, with noisy and nasty torment gnawing away, the bass thickening and flexing its muscles, and the band making you feel the weight of their power. The closing title cut is the longest at 8:05, as the song unfurls slowly, absolutely brutalizing everything in front of it and rumbling forward like a steamroller sans operator. Later, the song goes cold and icy, but out of that comes monstrous growls, penetrating doom filth, and the song ending in a bed of scraping noise that pushes blood to your surface.

Weltesser show a lot of promise on “Crestfallen,” and as the doom world evolves, bands such as this will be counted on to push things forward. This band has the right mentality and psyche to do this right, and as this record goes on, there’s no doubt that Weltesser have the right tools to establish themselves as real contenders. This debut is a really strong start for them, and as they gather levels of filth, they should get scarier as they progress.

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

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

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

It’s pretty cool when a musician you think you know, at least from artistic output, throws something your way you don’t really see coming. I remember when Bruce Dickinson’s first solo record “Tattooed Millionaire” came out and being totally surprised by what I heard. It was so different from his work in Iron Maiden, but hearing this fresh thing come out of him was pretty enthralling.

Same goes for Trevor Shelley de Brauw, a man who has devastated us with his anthemic riffage with instrumental giant Pelican. His debut solo outing “Uptown” is something that might furrow the brows of anyone who is expected a record in the same line as his primary band. That’s not even close to what we get with these six tracks. The music is chilled out and leans ambient, and there’s very little here in the way of heaviness or smothering decibels. But that’s not a negative at all, as this record exists in its own plane and separate from Pelican. De Brauw shows here a different style of expression on these tracks that were recorded over a decade, and it follows the artist from his quieter times living on a remote tobacco farm to his return to the anxiety-inducing Uptown section of Chicago. That push and pull can be felt throughout this record, as the time passage and unfurling of emotions is rich and real.

“A New Architecture” opens the record with fuzz and guitars holding in the air, as the sound stings and then circles into a halo of clouds. The song goes into a psychedelic dream sequence, marinating your mind, and then quiet acoustics arrive, immersing you in calm as the track fades. “Distinct Frequency” is ominous and dark at the start, as a spacey charge jolts you, and a hazy weather pattern situates itself, giving off fog and a light mist. “They Keep Bowing” has ringing drone leading into the body of the cut, and then guitars begin to agitate and catch fire, giving off some heat. The track gets dark and moody, as a doom storm slowly spreads itself out, as everything slowly washes away.

“You Were Sure” has noise threatening early, feeling like danger is on its way, but then the track heads into the shadows. De Brauw’s dark, raw singing adds another texture, as the acoustics poke at you, and the track drives toward cold, menacing end. “Turn Up for What” runs 8:28, and I think you’re meant to chuckle at the title. Noise blips churn, as the song turns into a cosmic spiritual. Drone blows through the middle of the track, causing quivers and stomach rumbles, as the path loops over and over and makes you fall into a vortex. The 11:43 closer “From the Black Soil Poetry and Song Sprang” starts morbidly, as drone stretches like a thick fog, making it seem like a blackout. But then calm blue sky melodies emerge, with keys glimmering and guitars cutting. Brightness makes you shield your eyes, but the melodies soothe and row you down a quiet tributary on your way to complete meditation. Nice finish.

De Brauw is going to surprise some people with this record, and hopefully more of that is going to be of the pleasant type. “Uptown” is not a Pelican record, nor should it be, as de Brauw certainly is capable of doing many things well. This is a great record for immersing yourself in the darkness, letting your mind unravel, and finding deeper understanding of what makes you who you are.

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

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

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

Eh, it’s the end of a bad week and I want to spit, so we might as well try to go out on a high note on this site at least. Hey, sorry about America, everyone. What a fucking dumpster fire. Anyway, that said, we have a really strong split release today from two great one-man bands that, combined, have an effort for you that will stoke any fires of frustration you’re feeling inside.

Coming to you via Crown & Throne Ltd. is a six-track split effort combining black metal project Palace of Worms and like-minded Ecferus, who both have put out some of the more interesting releases the sub-genre has seen the past decade. We’ve covered Palace of Worms quite a bit on these pages, and Ecferus is new to this site, but they’re definitely going to be a band we keep in our rotation moving forward based on this split and digging into their back catalog.

Balan

We last visited with the Balan-led Palace of Worms last year with excellent “The Ladder,” the third full-length in this project’s existence. As noted, we’re used to getting intelligent blasts of black metal from PoW, combined with classical elements, but the three tracks we meet on this split go in an entirely different direction. Paying homage to guttural old-school death metal, these three tracks take you on a neck-jerk jolt into territory we’re not used to Balan exploring. This material provides a violent bludgeoning that explores more horrific and otherworldly phenomenon, and as the songs go by, the heaviness and explosive fury keeps capitalizing. It’s a really refreshing dose of metallic mangling that many devoted listeners will not see coming.

PoW’s section starts off with “The Lost,” and right away you can hear the difference in tone with these songs, and things immediately go guttural. The pace is ugly and trudging, and though he’s taking a different corner here, Balan’s vocals remain steadfastly recognizable. The growls mow through you, while the smothering fury builds suffocating smoke and tears toward “Wendigo Sickness.” There, horrifying screams break out before a burly assault is launched. Vicious growls and a charred death offensive is launched, while the guitars boil over and produce immense heat, and the track comes to a piercing and abrupt end. “Rot From the Stars” begins with a reading from Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space,” which leads to slow-sludging crushing and wild yowls behind the growls. The track bleeds ominously, sending horrific chills, while Balan’s wails of, “Pray for deliverance!” mix with more Lovecraftian terrors, churning melodies, and a final reading before the song expires.

Alp

Ecferus is the brainchild of Indiana-based musician Alp, who is known for his experimental touch and steady commitment to putting out material on a prolific basis. The project’s exact birth isn’t easy to nail down, but Ecferus’ first full-length “Prehistory” landed in 2015, and he followed that up with “Pangaea” (out on I, Voidhanger) last year. Stuffed around that are a few EPs, as well as other splits with bands including Sea Witch and Jute Gyte, making him one of the busier musicians we’ve encountered lately. Here, Alp expands his vision, one that mixes really well with what PoW bring to the table, and if this is an introduction to any listeners out there, expect to find an artist who is bending and shifting black metal to fit his agenda.

The Ecferus portion starts with “Unveiled With Spears,” where Alp wastes no time showing you his uglier, more bizarre side to his music. The vocals are practically demonic, while the pace is blinding and unforgiving, unleashing unspeakable savagery. The guitars twist and contort, while the song comes to a mesmerizing end. “Transmigratory Astral Chatterings” starts with a clip from the 1993 film “Naked” before chant singing enters the mix and creates a hypnotic void. The song eventually opens up and spills blood, pushing its frenetic tempo and terrifying shrieks. Closer “Ritual Calamity” has guitars moaning all over the cosmos, making your head swim before the hammer is dropped. A ferocious assault is mounted, with chaos being poured in abundance, and then the song enters warp zone speeds. The final moments of the track have a tornadic feel, with the final sounds bleeding out into corrosion.

Palace of Worms and Ecferus are an ideally matched duo who wreak havoc on this release, and this split is an excellent way to end the week and let your blood reduce its boil. These two bands will counter any fury and frustration you feel while they help you dissolve into their chaos and see other hellish visions. It’s OK to step back from reality for a while and get swallowed whole by something that can bash you and crush you in a way that won’t permanently damage your mental health.

For more on Palace of Worms, go here: https://www.facebook.com/tattooedinworms/

For more on Ecferus, go here: https://www.facebook.com/ecferus/

To buy the album, go here: http://crownandthroneltd.bigcartel.com/product/palace-of-worms-ecferus-split-12

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

I have this weird fear of being trapped inside a cave or a cavern or some sort of dark, damp place where I might never get out. I’ve been inviting cave exploring before, and I have steadfastly refused to go, because I just know I’ll get caught inside a narrow tunnel, hopelessly stuck, and suffocate and die.

This all comes from me reflecting on “Scriptures of Grief,” the second effort from one-man Belgian doom monster Gateway, a smothering collection that feels like it’s weighing down on your chest. It’s so heavy and oppressive, it makes me think of being trapped in one of those narrow passageways inside a mysterious cave where, if you can’t dislodge yourself, you’re done. The three massive cuts that, combined, run nearly 30 minutes, completely clobber you and compromise your breathing. Each song put together by sole member Robin Van Oyen feels like a monstrous assault, one that creeps inside of you and slowly expands inside your veins. Originally released last year independently, Sentient Ruin is getting behind this bastard and releasing it on cassette and digital formats, pushing it to a broader underground audience. This record, a follow-up to Gateway’s self-titled debut effort (released by Hellthrasher), is a great, hefty serving of death-doom that is as heavy and oppressive at it comes.

Opener “I” is a real mammoth, 12:24 of smudging chaos, weird noises, and pained moans, which lead into slow-driving, massive doom that practically causes blood to bubble through the Earth’s surface. While the tempo crushes, the vocals get a little grimy, as the song unleashes a hellish furnace blast that’s impossible to confront face to face. The song trudges and stomps over the bodies it accumulated, with grisly pools of mud catching your boots, and torturous wails spreading over the song’s finish.

“II” lets fuzz push in, as the track rumbles as heavily as what preceded it, with monstrous growling and guttural scraping bruising your skin. Death grunts pelt at your flesh, while the song heads into pure ugliness, a section that has ill will and violence in mind that brings with it danger and snarling doom. All of this spills into the closing cut “III,” where a slow-moving menace rears its head, the vocals gurgle blood, and the pace starts to kick into a higher gear. Punishing soot and teeth-mashing playing push the song ahead, while the heat that comes off the thing will leave you gasping for breath and just a drop of cool air. The track then simmers in its own filth, with the song laying waste to your muscles and bones, and everything fading out in a scathing, corrosive noise bath.

Gateway might not actually suffocate you or trap you inside of a dark cavern, but you will have to battle against their will and might on “Scriptures of Grief.” This is sooty, unpolished, savage music that feels like it could pound its way through your skull and turn it into a pile of dust. This record puts the most guttural doom and filthiest death to the test, and the fact more people can hear this is a good thing that will compromise added folks’ senses of hearing.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://sentientruin.com/releases/gateway-scriptures-of-grief

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

The filth and scum of death metal’s past, be it in North America or in Europe, has died down over time. Not that there hasn’t been a lot of really good death the past decade or so, but the polished, pristine stuff has set about launching air fresheners to lift the stench. That’s a shame. I can handle the gag now and again, and luckily, there remain bands willing to make this awful again.

Canadian duo Tomb Mold are working hard to make sure death metal remains repugnant and brutal. You can tell from the name alone that these guys—guitarist/bassist Derrick Vella and drummer/vocalist Max Klebanoff—have their decaying hearts in the right place, and their debut full-length record “Primordial Malignity” is a powerful, heavy reminder that when death metal is really good, it can disease your entire body. The band first grabbed people’s attention on their well-respected demos “The Bottomless Perdition” and “The Moulting,” and they’ve aligned with the mighty Blood Harvest for the release of this new eight-track, 32-minute mauler. The press materials accompanying the record call the album a “love letter to ’90s Finnish death metal,” and I really can’t think of a better way to sum up what you’ll hear here. It’s a great listen, and it’s highly recommended.

“Intro – Inside They Grow” gets things started with a strange noise haze, but that gets blown to bits not long afterward, as the band mauls forward with an assault that sounds designed to crush bones. Gurgling growls and thrashy guitar work form the backbone, while guitars spiral and things come to an abrupt end. “Coincidence of Opposites” has twisting riffs and a confounding pace, twisting your brain connections and veins. Grinding howls and clobbering playing up the ante, while the back end seems to gnaw at your festering wounds, with Klebanoff’s growls hurling insults. “Bereavement of Flesh” has some pretty tasty riffs out front, and there are parts of this thing that are actually catchy. Imagine that. The band keeps chugging away, letting everything bleed. The title cut is thrashy and menacing, bringing with it a cloud of ugliness that emerges and unleashes the darkening. A punchy groove adds more meat to the bones, while the growls are gurgly and ugly.

“Merciless Watcher” has riffs spiraling and causing vertigo, while the playing rolls ominously, and the bulk of this situated in bloody filth. Strong leads cut out from there, as you get the sense they’re dragging a dripping body toward a shallow grave. “Clockwise Metamorphosis” blasts open, as the tempo twitches, and the melodies roil. The vocals sound like they’re boiling in mucus, as soloing goes off the rails and brings the thing to a stabbing end. “Twisted Trail” is a dose of lurching death, though that later explodes and brings with it total destruction. The vocals sound like they’re trying to rip apart Klebanoff’s windpipe, while later the music trudges through mud, and the guitar ignite the torches. Closer “Vernal Grace – Outro” begins heavy as fuck, as the band unloads all their gruesome weapons. The guitars dominate, while the growls are ugly and smearing. The tempo is compelling and driving, bringing your blood pressure to head, but then it all disappears into a similar sound cloud that greeted us at the start of the album, as all semblance of consciousness fades away.

Tomb Mold seem on the cusp of becoming one of the bands standing at the front of the pack of keeping death metal crushing and true. They could be a name that rises rapidly to the top of the scum pool going forward if they keep making records as good as “Primordial Malignity.” Everything here is honest and disgusting, a heavy bashing that rubs your face in the dirt and forces you to take a deep breath of the accumulating molds. Nausea and panic are the side effects, but I’m thinking most people won’t mind.

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

To buy the album (CD), go here: http://shop.bloodharvest.se/?product=tomb-mold-primordial-malignity-cd

And here (vinyl edition): http://shop.bloodharvest.se/?product=tomb-mold-primordial-malignity-12lp

For more on the label, go here: http://www.bloodharvest.se/

Timing really is everything. When they were in the writing process and then in the studio, no way Iron Reagan realized the reality that their third record “Crossover Ministry” would meet upon its release. Yet here we are, days into the Trump reign, and this record is landing at the absolute perfect moment.

The crossover thrashers always walked a thin line between political commentary and debauchery, which is what makes them so fun (and why they draw comparisons to bands such as D.R.I., Anthrax, S.O.D., and others), which continues on this record. This, their first since 2014’s “The Tyranny of Will,” just so happens to be entering a political climate not many of us could believe possible a year ago. A lot of people have noted that metal, punk, and hardcore could be entering a new golden era, what with the administration we’ve been dealt. But shit, those scenes were pretty damn strong already, and this record proves that true. Over 18 tracks and almost 29 minutes, the band blasts back against the modern political landscape (at least the one they faced when writing) as well as pumps out some fun jams that are irreverent and purposely cheeky. You have to have some humor wrapped into your reality, otherwise you’ll lose it.

The band itself launched five years ago, bringing together members of various noteworthy groups under a single banner. Comprised of vocalist Tony Foresta (Municipal Waste), guitarists Mark Bronzino (ANS) and Landphil Hall (Cannabis Corpse and Municipal Waste), bassist Rob Skotis (Hellbear and formerly of Occultist) and drummer Ryan Parrish (Deathcrown and formerly of Darkest Hour), the band dropped their first record “Worse Than Dead” on A389, pasting faces live and building their reputation. They followed that with a split with Exhumed and an EP before aforementioned “Tyranny” arrived. Now they have this crusher that flies by so fast, you won’t know what hit you.

OK, this is made up of 18 songs that blast by rapidly, so we’re not going to spend a ton of time with each one. “Dying World” starts with feedback and chaos, with a howl of, “Cannot save a dying world!” bringing a sobering awakening. “You Never Learn” is a huge blast with speed and spat-out words, which goes into “Grim Business” that is built on classic thrash and a nice dose of catchiness to help ease the hell down your throat. “Dead With My Friends” is hopeless but also humorous, with pianos dripping and the song bursting, as sarcastic shouts and a blazing solo let things burn viciously. “No Sell” is 14 seconds of shrapnel, followed by “Condition Evolution” and its rapid-fire vocals, with the poke of, “Quit holding onto your past!” “Fuck the Neighbors” is a little goofier, with some comedic dialog and the threat of messing up the complainants’ yards. Then it’s onto “Power of the Skull,” another strange one with gang vocals and a punishing pace. We then meet the title track, where things turn a little more serious, as the scathing assault and shouted vocals promise no mercy will be offered.

“More War” is a poke at what’s sure to be a focal point of the current administration, as the band pours cynicism into a hope for more death, and the tongue-in-cheek request of, “Let’s make more guns!” serves as a we-see-you audit of the right’s ridiculousness. “Blatant Violence” sounds like what its title indicates, as they blast through this one, trampling bodies and your remaining hearing. “Parents of Tomorrow” barely even exists, as it’s five seconds long with Foresta shouting, “Moms on the internet!” “Bleed the Fifth” is strong and lacerating, with punchy and rib-sticking thrash as well as vocals that rupture the skin. “Megachurch” has singing that reminds of Suicidal Tendencies’ Mike Muir (which is fitting), and it’s the most different song on the entire album. “Same Spiral” is massive and a little bit of a slower driver, while “Dogsnotgods” has vocals that practically splatter you with venom, with Foresta wailing, “If you need a friend, get a dog!” I wholeheartedly back this thought. “Eat or Be Eaten” is something of an interlude track, with electronic blips, before it rips open. Closer “Twist Your Fate” is the most traditionally metallic cut here, with classic guitars burning and eventually leading the way to massive punishment. The howls of, “The good news is we’re not going to last!” is a final burst before the track gets lost in a warped sound cloud and sucked into oblivion.

It’s going to be a long fucking four years, but as long as we have bands such as Iron Reagan around to piss all over the ridiculousness, at least we won’t be lulled to sleep. “Crossover Ministry” is the record you need right now, when your agitation is at its zenith and you can’t take another shit post online. Take a half hour and get your brain bashed by some thrashy goodness. You’ll feel much better when it’s done.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://relapse.com/iron-reagan-crossover-ministry/

Or here (digital): https://ironreagan.bandcamp.com/

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