Emotion and passion in music are things you don’t have to explain to anyone. At least it shouldn’t be. You put on the music or you see the band in a live setting, and you just know. The energy and power they conjure go right into you, fill your veins, and overwhelm you with the might the artists create with their songs and performances.

There’s never any doubt when hearing German black metal band Waldgefluster that every ounce of their music comes from their hearts. That’s one of the things that makes the band so special. There are many bands playing atmospheric, nature-rich black metal, but not many convey their feelings and inspirations the way this band does. The only experiences I’ve ever had with the band is through their records—I haven’t had the fortune to see them live yet—and every visit with them, no matter how many times I hear the records, always gets to me. That spills right into the band’s new record “Ruinen,” the fourth Waldgefluster record overall. Energetic black metal, soul-scraping vocals, and music that carries you right along with them into the wilderness are packed into these eight cuts, and every journey through these 63 minutes is exciting and enthralling.

I keep saying “band” and “they” when referring to Waldgefluster, but the group wasn’t really a group until recently. Waldgefluster started off as the solo project for Winterherz, who started the thing 10 years ago and put out three full-length records on his own. Now for “Ruinen,” he’s joined by a full slate including guitarists Dominik Frank and Markus Frey, bassist Arvagr, and drummer Thomas Birkmaier, and the full-group experience leads to a watershed of sound and an enthralling performance that does the name Waldgefluster quite well. You practically can feel snow crunch under your feet and the wind sting your cheeks on this record, as the atmospheric elements have been further explored, and it’s going to be an excellent companion as it gets colder.

“Die Ruine als Schmuck” is the album’s awakening quite literally, and it feels like the sun cracking the horizon, with music slowly spreading and speaking perking up your ears. Then it’s into 10:29 “Weltenwanderer” that opens with fierce growls and hypnotic melodies. A theme of many of these songs is the walking through fire, into calm, and back into the blaze, as this track demonstrates. Singing mixes in with the harsher vocals, while blazing guitars meet up with cold, reflective passages that seem situated in deep morning fog. From there, a huge emotional gust takes place, with fury and beauty meeting, wild cries intertwining with melody, and a passage of heartfelt playing dissolving into the haze. “Trümmerfestung” is a tick off 12 minutes, and in enters in a wind gust that turns into furious howls and a trudging pace. The middle of this cut has an emotional caterwaul that might leave you grasping for the walls, and out of that, a tremendous bit of soloing glimmers before giving way to quiet acoustics and a mix of whispers and clean calls. The tempo later erupts all over, making huge dents before disappearing into acoustic waves. “Und immer wieder Schnee” is harsh and heavy with spirited playing snaking through and growls and hearty singing again taking turns to belt out the messages. Moody and spacious guitars later emerge, sending a huge rush of atmosphere into the room—and tripping out your mind—before a feral assault and sunburnt guitars join forces and fade out with a stretch of haunting knocks.

“Ruinenfelder” pulls things back a bit, as acoustics settle in, and cleanly sung verses waft over the track. Strings begin to swell, and the powder keg is poked, but the bulk of this is rustic and woodsy, countered with passionate cries and decimating howls. “Graustufen Novembertage” is burly and airy when it starts, with melody and feral expressions going tooth and nail. Again, the animalistic shrieks and deeply human singing combine, bringing an infusion of energy and a tug of war between light and dark. The growls burst, while amazing melodies and a torrid assault of drums team up and carry the track-ending dialog to a stinging conclusion. “Aschephönix” feels solemn at first before it tears open and soars into a cloudy, mesmerizing pace. Some of the track feels like it’s traveling through a thick, dark tunnel, though guitars crack through and shine beams. The track slips into the valleys, basking in the shade, and things even get chilly for a bit, letting you see your breath in the air. But the rupture you expect happens, with the vocals blazing through, melodies whipping up a frenzy, and a noise squall swallowing it whole. “Susitaival” closes the album in a quiet, calming tone, with hushed acoustics, gentle percussive taps, and noise rising and casting its shadow, bringing the record to a fitting end.

Waldgefluster remain one of the most thunderous, heartfelt bands in all of black metal, and their amazing run continues with “Ruinen.” This is the type of band that’ll never let metal’s, or their own, heart burn out and will continue to keep the torch blazing for as long as they can. This is a really excellent band, one of the most reliable in all of metal, and they never let you walk away from one of their records not feeling completely and utterly impacted.

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

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

Or here: http://store.nordvis.com/

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

And here: http://www.nordvis.com/

Certainly we’ve all heard the saying “don’t judge a book by its cover” and are perpetually tired of hearing it. I upset myself just writing that statement, and now I’m sick. The saying does hold some weight and reminds us not to pre-judge, but sometimes you actually can see something and make a fairly accurate decision about what’s contained inside.

Take, for example, the cover and title of Texas duo Cara Neir’s tumultuous new record. It’s called “Perpetual Despair Is the Human Condition,” and the cover depicts a black-and-white drawing of a funeral hearse pulled up to the front of a church. You shouldn’t be expecting reflective, atmospheric, lovely music and instead should prepare for a burial. An extension of sorts philosophically from their explosive last record “Portals to a Better, Dead World,” the band takes on what it’s like to be a living, breathing, suffering human. There are things holding us back, forces that mean us harm, and disappointment that becomes as much a part of us as the lighter elements. Along with this, Cara Neir twist in sections that deal with social class imbalance and morality, showing how even in the brightest of times, we can be yanked back by conflict.

Based in Dallas, Cara Neir got started in 2008, as vocalist/lyricist Chris Francis and guitarist/bassist/drum programmer/backing vocalist Garry Brents combined forces and mentalities into a heavy music world that needed more punishing acts like them. Their debut “Part I/Part II” was released a year after their formation, with “Stagnant Perceptions” landing two years after that. Aforementioned “Portals” arrived in 2013, with their fourth full-length being “Perpetual.” That’s not to ignore all of the smaller and split releases they’ve released over their eight years. On “Perpetual,” the band melts black metal, punk, hardcore, noise, and classic screamo into a molten pot, and does it ever scorch. The eight songs blaze by, shaking your insides and spreading darkness all over. Along with Francis and Brents come notable contributors such as Jon Rosenthal (Venowl), Val (Ævangelist, Vlk, Venowl), Drew W.B. (Lonesummer, Moros), Andy Curtis-Brignell (Caïna), and Chelsea Anderson smear their own morbidity into the mix.

The record begins with “Spiteful Universe,” as Nietzsche lines are spoken over dissonance before the shit hits the fucking fan. Crazed vocals and a speedy assault combine to practically make you black out, and as things go on, they just get more unhinged. Later, atmospheric calm squeezes in, helping you imagine serene cloudy blue skies before a muscular riff takes over and wild howls bring the song to an end. “Normalcy” has off-kilter guitar work and vocals that veer toward death metal. Sounds swirl in the air while the playing dizzies, and after a brief comedown, the drums go off, and the track stampedes all over again. “Something’s wrong!” Francis screams as the arrival of newfound danger sends chills. “Pushing Failure” is jerky and unpredictable, with the drums smearing and the shrieks chewing glass. Later, a drift of humidity fills the air while pianos drip blood. “Bound by Believers” has some great melodic guitar work, as the lines loop through the mire. The track is catchy and terrifying, with panic launching an outbreak and death-laced punishment adding bruises.

“Window to the Void” has tricky, loopy guitar work that defies logic, while the pace is outright spastic, like a prisoner clawing and throwing his body toward anything just for some relief. The track is abrasive and punk fueled, blasting away over its entire run time. “Trials of the Lost” pounds away relentlessly, with riffs chugging and spiraling all over the place, and later some doomy storming arrives and brings the blackness. Organs add a dose of fear, while the back end is awash in black punk and heavy thrashing. “For You” unleashes feral howls and speedy aggression, with death gasps behind the madness and later some gazey guitar sprinkling. The tempo then begins drilling at your temples, while the track dissolves into murky muck. Closer “Chapter I: Coastline Black” throws some wrenches into the fun, coming off like a dark horror story, which is perfect for this season. Raspy growls push the plasma-spewing agenda, while the guys hit the gas pedal, galloping away and grinding teeth. Noiry guitars spill in, adding an interesting texture, but then it’s into throttling throats, bringing a creaky, spooky ambiance, and turning everything in front of them into dust and pain.

Cara Neir continue to add violently interesting, explosively morose chaos into the world, and “Perpetual Despair Is the Human Condition” is another unhinged chapter in their exposure of humanity’s darkest elements. Each inch of this album tears away at your skin and creates a collection of little blood tributaries that build up and make their mark. This band makes you confront the worst parts of humanity and existence and refuse to let you look away.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://brokenlimbsrecordings.net/collections/all

For more on the label, go here: https://brokenlimbsrecordings.net/

Photo by Mitja Kobal

One of the most dramatic heavy music experiences I ever had was in some random classroom at Carnegie Mellon University several years ago. It certainly felt like a place far more suited for a lecture than an experience that would have my ears ringing for days on end, but it certainly stands out from the hundreds of shows I’ve ever attended.

The headliners that night were Japanese instrumental force MONO, and they were touring in support of their amazing 2006 album “You Are There.” I remember leaving that spring night absolutely stunned at what I’d just witnessed. The force the band packed that evening could have leveled a hall of any size, yet here I was, halfway up the stadium seat-style classroom completely mesmerized by their sound, expression, and massive weight. I already was a major fan of the band before that night, but I came out of there practically a zealot. From that album forward, I’ve followed MONO very closely, and from release to release, they always felt like they were taking a new path toward my psyche. That carries over to their new, ninth record “Requiem for Hell,” an album that stays faithful to their cinematic wonders but also mixes in several thick stripes of darkness.

Like every MONO record, the messages and themes of the songs aren’t immediately apparent since their work is wordless. But the themes of life and love, death and darkness certainly are present, even if they’re carried on the waves of musical passages and not words. The five songs, inspired by Dante’s “Divine Comedy,” have sections of gentle reflection and shadowy tranquility. But there are other areas where MONO are at their heaviest and most terrifying, patching you into their creative juices that were overflowing while making this record. Reuniting with producer Steve Albini, the band—lead guitarist Takaakira “Taka” Goto, rhythm guitarist Hideki “Yoda” Suematsu, bassist/keyboard player Tamaki Kunishi, drummer/synth player Yasunori Takada—channeled all of their energy and blood into these cuts that never skimp on the drama and keep you plugged in from beginning to crushing end.

The album begins with “Death in Rebirth,” where dark guitars strike, and melodies fold over like relentless black waves. The song feels like as dark storm creeping over the horizon—that’s literally happening outside as I write this—and as things go on, the volume and intensity rise, and we’re at the threshold. Noise wells up and begins scarring, and then the song fades as it is eclipsed by thick clouds. “Stellar” has morose strings, chimes joining in, and static bubbling up like a swarm of insects. As the song spreads, it remains understated, like a quiet snow endlessly but silently coating the ground. Its beauty is a sight to behold, but its strength is not to be underestimated. The 17:48-long title track follows, with guitars slowly breaking from their icy grave, and glockenspiel dropping needles. Guitars and the pace pick up about five minutes in, with the melodies spiraling into the atmosphere, and an ominous stretch choking the sun. The track gets more aggressive, as if the danger you feared is right around the bend, and from there, everything is whipped into a tornado of sound and power, as the guitars catch fire and combine for a cataclysmic ending.

“Ely’s Heartbeat” is a song inspired a close friend’s (Temporary Residence owner Jeremy deVine) first foray into parenthood, as the in utero heartbeat actually are the sounds that greet you and serve as the driving center point for the song. This is where things brighten for the band, as the embrace of new life is at its apex. Here, sounds overwhelm as elegant guitars build steam and spill into an effusive onslaught of gazey guitar work that has become a MONO trademark. It’s utterly gorgeous and infectious, as the song continues to roll through the void, and beauty and sorrow collide to create a final drama-rich burst. Closer “The Last Scene” not only is fittingly named because it’s the final cut but also because its ambiance feels like a final credit roller. Guitars bubble while weird tones make themselves apparent. Piano splashes into huge displays of heart-gushing guitar, while a breezy, wonderfully atmospheric cloud break lets moody sunbeams strike the ground as you awake from your dream infused by what it is you just witnessed.

MONO have become one of the standard bearers for instrumental rock, and their career one day should have the “legendary” status attached to it. “Requiem for Hell” is one of the records that will help get them there, a collection that proves a decade and a half after their formation, they still have the energy and passion flowing in their veins. I doubt MONO have any suburban classrooms on their tour schedule now, but whatever room they’re in, they’re bound to fill it with chaos and change lives.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.monoofjapan.com/en/

To buy the album, go here: https://www.temporaryresidence.com/collections/albums

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

Photo by Joe Martinez Jr.

One of the most satisfying experiences as a music listener is when you get a new record from a band you follow and are blown away instantly by the amount of improvement they display. I mean, you’ve always liked said band, and their music is in pretty steady rotation, but then they take shit to another level.

Chicago thrashers Oozing Wound always had a tongue sticking through their nuclear wasted-cheeks on their records, not that they didn’t take their craft seriously. But there always was a thing about them that you could take them as a band that hit hard but didn’t seem all that worried about being placed in the upper echelon of their sub-genre. All that shit’s out the window on the band’s tumultuous third record “Whatever Forever,” an album that, from its title, sounds like things are just going to be heavy and fun. And they are. But there is so much more substance this time around. The music is heavier, their teeth are sharper and out for blood, and they just sound outright dangerous. Oozing Wound never have sounded this deadly, and this record will force anyone who didn’t pay mind to these guys before to wake the fuck up. Now.

The funny thing about Oozing Wound, and maybe this is a reason we like them so much, as that even though I spent two graphs imploring you to take this band seriously, they totally don’t seem themselves that way. Yeah, records such as “Retrash” and “Earth Suck” were trustworthy thrashers, but these guys sounded eternally loose. The band—vocalist/guitarist Zack Weil, bassist Kevin Cribbin, drummer Casey Marnocha—hits on serious themes (climate change denial, death of loved ones) and not-so-vital ones (an ode to a movie not even made yet, Deep Space Nine), yet all the while they sound violent, urgent, and completely confident. Oozing Wound may scoff at the maturity or vast improvement accusations, but I sure hear it, and this band is a potent as they’ve ever been.

The record tears open with “Rambo 5 (Pre-Emptive Strike),” the best theme song ever for a movie you never saw. The track jolts to life with heavy riffs, punchy tempos, and outright maniacal howls that gnaw away at your senses. The track is heavy as hell and ends in a pit of demolition. “Diver” has a boatload of great riffs, as the intensity of this song is obvious. The guitars spiral all over, causing vertigo, and the vocals scrape at your skin, driving blood to the surface. Melody floods in later, the soloing scorches, and noise swells at the end. “Deep Space” feels like hurtling past the stars, as the song decimates alongside the wild howls. The soloing goes off the rails and spills chaos, while the pace mashes away and ends in a pit of doom. “Mercury in Retrograde” is the second-longest cut here at 7:38, and it starts with hypnotic riffs, jarring drumming, and wails of, “Feeling like a skeleton!” poking at superficial wounds. Melodies loop and catch up with drone, while the band hits a long, purposely repetitive track designed to test your patience and mock you. Then speed returns, and we all burn to death. “Weather Tamer” takes rightful aim at dickhead Sen. Jim Inhofe, R-Oklahoma, and his harebrained attempt to disprove climate change. Wow. What a schmuck. Anyway, this is the longest cut at 8:11, and they dump noise, cool riffs, and a tricky and proggy section in order to explain this madness. There are parts that are trancey, sections that are spacey, and more melodies repeated over and over again, hammering home insanity.

“Everything Sucks, And My Life Is a Lie” practically overflows with sarcasm, but in the catchiest, most destructive way possible. The riffs absolutely chug, while the vocals are yowled hard, opening up and congealing wounds you may have. The soloing absolutely glimmers, while the ending comes to a raucous neck-jerk, with the drums going absolutely off. “Eruptor” is the first of two instrumentals, this one built on speedy playing, melody loops, and a pace that makes your head spin forever. “Tachycardia” has a bit of a stoner vibe to it, as the riffs spill, the vocals are barked, and the guitar work turns deliriously playful. Later on, every element unleashes pounding and torment, bringing everything to a meaty end. “You Owe Me, Iommi” has a very obvious target, and this instrumental spends its short running time mixing clean guitars into cosmic weirdness and relentless gong smashes. Closer “Sky Creep” remembers fallen cosmonaut Vladimir Komarov (a Google search for the image of his remains isn’t, like, lemon party bad, but it’s not fun) who died on the Soyuz 1 after re-entry to Earth. The song seems to be paced like his death, as the track speeds in terrifying manner toward the ground, the playing is stabbing and painful, and the vocals are pained howls. The track finally ends in thick, poisonous exhaust, with crazed yells and screams that are only too apropos for the subject matter.

Oozing Wound already were a bad-ass thrash band before “Whatever Forever,” but now they’re a force with which to be reckoned. You like some Exodus, Vektor, Municipal Waste, and even Early Man? Then this band is going to pulverize your body and leave you a pile of sizzling goo. You’ll be better off that way. Trust us.

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

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

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

There are bands that have ridiculous standards they must meet with every release. Not sure that it’s fair, but for those artists who actually create sub-genres of metal, whether intended or not, everything they put out into the public gets scrutinized in ways many other artists don’t face.

That said, any new Alcest release is going to be heavily examined, put through the ringer of criticism, and compared against the band’s older work simply because of what they’ve meant to the world. The band basically created the shoegaze-glazed section of black metal, paving the way for groups such as Lantlôs, An Autumn for Crippled Children, and Deafheaven (another that gets shoved through the meat grinder every time they move) that would help swell this sound. But it all comes back to Alcest, and their new record “Kodama,” their fifth, is another that will have people poring over the details and discussing the music on end. So we’re only too happy to toss our voice into the mix. This album is tremendous stuff, both a return to form and an extension of where the band has been going the past few years. There is plenty of lovely, atmospheric stuff here, lush melodies, and cloudy transmissions, but the band also has turned back toward their black metal days, delivering crunch and harsh vocals back into the mix. It’s a record that works surprisingly well and should satisfy all Alcest disciples. Except the assholes.

As most know, Alcest is the brainchild of Neige, who not only powers this music but also has one of the most recognizable voices in all of modern metal. Along with him as always is drummer Winterhalter, and together they create another labyrinth of sound in which it’s incredibly easy to get lost. Those who liked what the band were onto with 2014’s “Shelter” (that record got knocked around, but I’ve always liked it) and 2012’s “Les Voyages de l’âme” should ease into this, as the ideals there certainly aren’t abandoned. But if you have partiality toward the earlier work including 2007’s “Souvenirs d’un autre monde” and 2010’s “Écailles de lune,” you should like the increased heaviness. Actually, fuck all that. If you like good music that sweeps you away and infiltrates your imagination and emotions, you’ll like this record because it’s a tremendous piece of work.

The title track opens the record with guitars charging and heading for the air, with melody ripping and Neige’s unmistakable singing leading the way. Fog rises as the ambiance gets moodier, with the track getting grim and sliding into a noise glaze. Hearty “oh-oh-ohhhh” calls bring the spirit up, and then the song begins to subside and fade away. “Eclosion” has a heavily emotional start, with a post-rock breeze chilling the surroundings before everything ignites. The harsh cries we noted finally make their presence known, chewing away at the sinew, and later melodies erupt anew, surging your bloodstream, and clean singing collides with cataclysmic shrieks before the track trickles off into an icy stream. “Je Suis D’Ailleurs” has clean wordless wails at the front end before the song buzzes away and strong singing melds with the song’s progression. A rush of colors flood in, while spacey keys spread their wonder, the track begins to fly, and everything comes to a bruising, scraping finish.

“Untouched” has clean playing and singing at the start, with a serene tone being set before it ultimately powers up. The verses hang back a bit, letting the music sting, while the singing begins to pound away. The track goes cold, taking you under the water, before it ignites again and ends on a thunderous note. “Oiseaux de Proie” lets noise hover over the scene before it gets washed away and powerful melodies arrive. Guitars start to spiral, making the sky spin as you gaze into it, and the singing continues to lift you up. The song is a total rush of energy, and pulverizing shrieks enter to poke at your scars before cosmic energy enraptures, and heartfelt sound sprawls infect your dreams. Closer “Onyx” slithers as dark waves boil, while delicate mists coat your face, the sounds wash over you, and the track fades away into the distance, allowing you time to reflect and figure out how this incredible trip affected you.

Alcest remain one of the driving forces of modern metal, and “Kodama” only should solidify the stronghold over which they have a death grip. Their music of beauty and brutality sounds as vibrant and relevant as ever, and this record shows a band that’s still pushing through on their journey. Alcest’s stellar reputation is well earned, and this album can sit comfortably alongside anything they’ve done.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.alcest-music.com/

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: http://us.prophecy.de/oxid-oxid-5/

Or here (internationally): http://en.prophecy.de/pre-order-bundles/

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

Photo by Hayley Rippy

The other night, the evening sky was a warm autumnal orange, splashed with a little bit of purple. It was ideal, and the fact that the wife unit was inside the house decorating for Halloween made the season and the display outside perfect. It made me think I wanted something musically that would suit the mood, and I realized I had just the thing.

Arizona-based death metal band Gatecreeper not only had the perfect brand of death metal for what I was seeking, but the cover of their debut record “Sonoran Deprivation” even matched the colors I was seeing on the horizon. The band’s horrific, spectacularly played death metal is just right for this time of the year when the chill is in the air and decay creeps across the land and all the way to the top of our trees. Sure, the title may be calling back to the desert region that spans across their stomping grounds, but there’s just as much terror and violence that it also can remind of slasher film bloodshed. If you’re not much for the imagery the music conjures (at least to me), you simply can revel in the fact this is raucous, drubbing death that always goes down right, even if sickens the belly.

Gatecreeper have been together for just three years now, but they’ve already done a nice bit of damage before this debut record landed. They released a self-titled EP a year after they congealed, and since then they’ve been a part of three split efforts, joining the likes of Take Over and Destroy, Young and in the Way, Home Wrecker, Outer Heaven, and Scorched. The band’s power spreading across the underground obviously caught the attention of Relapse Records, who are releasing “Sonoran Deprivation,” and the band—vocalist Chase H. Mason, guitarists Eric Wagner and Nate Garrett (Spirit Adrift), bassist Sean Mears, and drummer Metal Matt—clearly have been sharpening their teeth and their chops as they get ready to incinerate the world on this nine-track, 31-minute slasher.

You can’t top an opening song called “Craving Flesh” as it punches hard, with harsh barks that have a slight hardcore edge to them. The guitars burn and slither, while the pace slows but hammers before reigniting and blasting to the finish. “Sterilized” has a churning opening, with vicious growls, a trudging pace, and the doom smudge lowering. Fiery leads erupt before everything ends in smoke. “Desperation” is a quick one, but it’ll bloody your nose. Noise hangs in the air before the tempo detonates, spreading misery all over its nearly two-minute run time. “Rotting as One” is thrashing and mean, with raspy howls, poisonous leads, and overall evil intent. The back end of the track smears blood right into “Stronghold,” where riffs begin pelting the flesh. The guitar work chews bones, while the drums absolutely devastate, as the song grinds to an ugly, brutal ending.

“Patriarchal Grip” spills doom like tar, while the terror bleeds into the picture, and the noise makes your ears rings. The song tears apart and spills the guts, as the band stomps the ground to dust while infernal growls fill your lungs. Strong riffs and barked grunts clobber, and then the final moments bring a cataclysmic ending. “Lost Forever” is crunchy as hell, with raw growls scraping at the flesh and the music mashing. The track is blistering and chaotic, completely clobbering the senses. “Flamethrower” has a kick-ass, Euro-style death opening, sounding like the glorious early ’90s, while the song rumbles and rages, treating you to a track that should make you relish the roots of this style of music. Closer “Grotesque Operations” is the longest cut at 5:44, beginning by lowering the doom drapes and then lighting them aflame. The speedy assault then moves into meaty thrashing before returning to thick fog that hangs in the atmosphere. Riffs roll out of that and land body blows right up to the final moment.

Gatecreeper’s “Sonoran Deprivation” is a really promising debut record, and this band’s brand of European-slashed death metal sounds sinister and destructive. The power and precision with which they play this stuff is infectious, and their extra doses of doom and thrash strengthens their assault. This is ideal death to play on loop as the nighttime gets creepier and the seasonal decay bleeds into the outside world.

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

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

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

Photo by http://st-math.eu/

I’ve talked before about formulas and how they can be good or bad for a band, depending on the situation. Having expectations met always is a nice thing, and it keeps you in that warm, tight cocoon where nothing ever changes and you can rest easily. But when does that become monotonous and start causing disappointing instead of comfort?

I think Trap Them may have hit that tipping point on their new, fifth record “Crown Feral.” Through and through, it’s a Trap Them record. It’s noisy, violent, brash, and unwilling to compromise. That last part might be the problem. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with the record, and those who want it by the numbers will be satisfied, there’s a sense of too much comfort sinking in. What a weird thing to say about a group as maniacal as Trap Them. These 10 songs feel like ones you’ve heard from the band before. Most of them follow a similar pattern, they’re all about the same length, and you never walk away surprised at all. Maybe you’re thinking, “No shit, asshole. That’s the point.” That’s fine. But from a band that’s undoubtedly talented and frighteningly brash, “Crown Feral” feels like the band went to the well one too many times. Again, the songs themselves are fine. If this is your very first experience with Trap Them, you may differ from my thoughts. But five releases in, I’d like to see them take some risks and dig up new ground.

Trap Them have been running full speed ahead since 2002, with their first full-length “Sleepwell Deconstructor” emerging five years later on the Trash Art! label. From there, they returned at a pretty steady clip, with “Seizures in Barren Praise” dropping a year later on Deathwish Inc., 2011’s “Darker Handcraft” marking their Prosthetic debut, and “Blissfucker” destroying lives in 2014. That’s not to mention their EPs and smaller releases along the way. The band—vocalist Ryan McKenney, guitarist Brian Izzi, bassist Galen Baudhuin, and drummer Brad Fickeisen—once again holed up with Kurt Ballou at GodCity Studio, and the result, as noted, is exactly what you’d expect. It does serve their immolated, self-destructive history well, if anything, and will cause bloody mouths live.

“Kindred Dirt” gets things started with noise, fittingly feral howls from McKenney, and some doom spilled into the concoction, as all of this chugs right into “Hellionaires.” There, smothering riffs and a ripping fury take hold, while dissonant guitars hang over portions of the track before demolition comes to claim souls. Guitars rise and wash out, while the back end is actually kind of catchy. “Prodigala” has drums stomping as hell is unleashed. One of the better riffs on the record then scrapes away, as the pace trucks, a simple chorus lays waste, and wild howls get trampled by the chaos. “Luster Pendulums” is speedy and raucous, a bout with total punishment, with heavy thrashing and guitars chewing scenery. “Malengines Here, Where They Should Be” is crunchy and heavy, with the pace grinding, the vocals stabbing, and the atmosphere starting to feel a little hypnotic, which is the first real twist on the album.

“Speak Nigh” continues into a blinding fury, with maniacal yelling, the band mauling, and the taste starting to feel a little samey. Things do change up on “Twitching in the Auras,” where McKenney’s vocals rip over a hanging storm of sound, giving this an injection of strangeness. It’s smudgy and ugly enough, but the extra weirdness they allow into the room does enough to make this one stand out in a choking cloud of smoke. “Revival Spines” is washed out at first, but then is launches into raspy growls, guitars cutting, and the track steamrolling. “Stray of the Tongue” takes things back to predictability, though the cut is short enough, built on bass slither and virulent vocals. Closer “Phantom Air” has a creepy start before guitars catch fire, the vocals lacerate again, and the band throws in a few curves for good measure, giving a glimpse that they’re capable of changing up this engine.

Trap Them might do well to pay closer attention to the paths Converge have trudged, in that they kept their base in place but also shook their bones and brains so that things didn’t grow stagnant. “Crown Feral” is just fine, and in a vacuum it likely would feel a lot fresher than it does here. Trap Them might want to think about shaking things up on record six and exiting their comfort zone so that the danger and volatility in which they excel could feel terrifying again. In the meantime, this is fine but not super exciting.

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

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

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

Imagine toiling away at something for years, putting your life’s blood and sweat into it, yet it never seems to come to fruition. Despite how much you may believe it what you’ve done and feel that your work is substantial and worthwhile, it sits on the sidelines waiting for it to be made into something substantial that can be held in people’s hands.

Bay Area-based Ordo Obsidium faced a similar crisis with the release of their great second record “A Crooked Path to Desolation.” Technically, the music has been out there in digital form for the past three years, so if you were paying attention and jumped on this, then this is old news to you. But now, the music finally is getting proper physical release on digipak CD and vinyl, years after it first was promised. But better late than never, because this music has held up and sounds just as crushing and vital, with Eisenwald coming through with a copy of this record you literally can hold in front of you (though it’s frighteningly limited as just 300 pieces per format). And if you’re a fan of doom-scraped black metal, you’ll drink this down quickly, with no regard to how your body can adjust to absorb and digest.

The other impressive thing about Ordo Obsidium, despite their music being flattening and morose, is that the group is built by some folks you know well if you’ve dug deep into U.S. black metal soil. On this record, the band is credited as Balan (Palace of Worms) on guitars, keys, bass, and vocals; Incitatus on guitars, bass, and vocals; Sokol on vocals; and Otrebor (Botanist) on drums. That’s a formidable collection of players, and their work here is dreary, smothering, and actually perfectly timed to resurface when chill and death is about to be in the air again. We’d be remiss if we didn’t mention the record was produced by the late, great Jef Leppard, who not only had the best moniker but also helped create some crushing metal. See, Vastum. By the Ordo Obsidium’s 2011 debut “Orbis Tertius” also is a pretty damn worthy listen, though it’s a different configuration of the band.

The record starts with “Ominous Clouds,” an aptly named intro cut that’s awash in strange noises, wordless calling, and whispers whipping about. The title track tears open this track in earnest, as the guitars cry doom, grisly growls mix with gothy singing, and later everything totally erupts. The tempo bends and twists violently, while the cut crunches and lurches before it fades away. “Nightbird’s Song” unleashes powerful riffs, shadowy singing that gets washed into the background, and gurgly growls emitting disgust. The filth and fury are thick, while guitars rain down, throaty calls beckon, and violence mixes with melodies for the final doses of bloodshed. “Dire Monument” meets you with a driving fury, abysmal growls, and later some glorious power that stretches over the muck. The lead guitars trick and trudge, eventually hitting a slower pace, where synth floods, and the pace is deadly and demanding.

The second half opens with “The Warping Palace,” where guitars burn, the setting is ominous and cold, and the pace is thrashier, which is a nice touch. Strangled cries burst, while moody soloing settles in, strengthening the song even more. The cut then delves back into classic metal, though it meets up with carnage and eventually bleeds away. “Morose Delectation” snaps with speed and savagery, feeling raw and grim as it drips with horror. This one is situated a little closer to death metal, as the growls are harsh and grimy, the pace intensifies, and everything winds up in a pit of dust. “Breath of Eternal Light” starts ripping veins from your neck at the very start, as it decimates with wild howls, a thick bassline, and a thrashy assault that leaves you in the dust. Riffs chug, but then things get trippy and psychedelic, with guitars spraying all over and rumbling to the final resting spot. Closer “Doom Herald” lives up to its name, slithering over death grounds, teasing a slower cut until the bottom is torn out and terror arrives. The vocals gurgle, strong melodies dominate, and slurry fury and metallic terror cascade until the end.

Ordo Obsidium may have waited a long time to get “A Crooked Path to Desolation” into physical form, but all that matters is that time has arrived, and it sounds a great as ever. Where the band goes from here is anyone’s guess, but the fact they created some great hidden gems while in our midst should not go unnoticed. This is a record that’s waited a long time to get its just due, so don’t be foolish and sleep on this creeping beast.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.eisenton.de/shop/index.php

For more on the label, go here: http://www.eisenton.de/

Life can be a pit of torment for those not so fortunate. Or even for those who have everything you’d think they’d ever need. Things can eat away at your psyche like a hungry animal chewing at your bones, and trying to find a way to cope with that isn’t always an easy thing. Or even possible.

Tackling “Rheia,” the stunning new record from Belgian band Oathbreaker, the pain and discomfort is palpable. The chaos and hurt drips from these 10 songs, and the heaviness of this record isn’t just in the metallic power. It’s in the words and the way the music is expressed, and there’s no way to avoid the tidal wave of emotion that crashes over these songs. The things and events that color and bruise our lives often can begin in our earliest, most formative days, and many people who have been followed by ghosts their entire lives often took on those scars when they were young. That’s another element that hits heavy as a mountain on “Rheia,” and the visions of one’s earlier days—in this case Oathbreaker’s singer Caro Tanghe—land like a heavyweight blow to the chest, leaving you gasping with the wind knocked out of your lungs.

The amazing weight of this record not only comes from the words that drip blood but also from the playing. Simply put, Oathbreaker have made an incredible transformation between records two (2013’s powerful “Eros|Anteros”) and three. The growth and maturation in the songwriting, the understanding of nuances, the identification of when to embrace serenity and when to rip off heads is spot on. Guitarist Lennart Bossu, bassist Gilles Demolder, and drummer Ivo Debrabandere not only rely on their hardcore roots but also mix in doom, black metal, and moody atmospherics to achieve an immersive, full-bodied sound. And it’s not like they were slouches before this! As for Tanghe, this is her finest hour. She has become one of the best voices in all of heavy music, able to howl like the gates of hell have opened and sing as lovely as anyone when delicacy is needed. All of this is combined with her painstaking words that dig deep into the heart and soul, shaking you to your core.

“10:56” and “Second Son of R” open the record as conjoined tracks (they even released a video containing the two cuts together). The first song begins a capella, with Tanghe recounting someone plunging out of a window and landing face-first on the cobblestone. Bleeding and in disrepair, the music enters and rises as Tanghe melds along with them into a horrific explosion. From there, memories of childhood dash across the frantic song, laying waste to everything, poking at memories dashed with rejection and filth. The screams and growls are fire-breathing and dangerous, as the guitars crush and over the chorus, through gritted teeth, Tanghe wails, “Don’t make me pity you.” The song sounds like it’s buttoning up, going cold and quiet, before hell engulfs the world, and animalistic, surely cathartic cries blast from Tanghe’s body almost as if she can’t control the emotion. “Being Able to Feel Nothing” exposes itself from its title, as dark fury pelts and raspy singing uncovers “the stains I’ll never manage to remove.” The lava pours anew toward the end, and Tanghe wails the title over and over again. “Stay Here” pulls back some, with acoustic guitars leading, the singing as strong as anywhere, and a touch of noir adding more shadow. “Needles In Your Skin” is another highlight, with clean singing and Tanghe calling, “I’m reaching out for you,” before the guts are torn out. The storm hovers overhead and tears down walls, with the track trudging, melody merging with volatility, and Tanghe wondering, “How could you go without me?”

“Immortals,” an interesting title if you know anything about the myth of Rheia, has slurry singing and a punchy tempo before the lid if pulled off. The pace explodes, with terrifying howls switching off with passionate singing, the pace crushing but sometimes bringing serenity, and later the pounding arriving all over. Tanghe sings over the smoke pits, while the guitars gaze, and the song comes to an atmospheric end. The next three cuts are interconnected, with “I’m Sorry, This Is” a pocket of ambiance and peripheral noise, mixing into “Where I Live” that has sounds penetrating and voices buried beneath. The song then takes off, with horrible cries and screams cutting through the center, and noise squalls pushing into “Where I Leave.” There, guitars chime, and a fog situates over it all, with the pace plodding along as Tanghe levels, “I’ll be a lonely child.” The song has ample amounts of power, though it’s widely delivered at mid-pace, and the ending run of refrain repetition and hypnotic playing leave your head spinning. Closer “Begeerte” has voices spiraling in a vortex before clean guitars drip, static drums punch holes, and a pace that feels like feet trying to make their way through thick mud spreads. “I draw pleasure from it,” Tanghe calls, as the song begins to lift off from the earth and disintegrate into the sky.

Oathbreaker truly have come into their own three records in their run with “Rheia.” The performances from every member are top notch, and the depths into which these songs dig make them unforgettable and dangerously effective. These songs will reach deep within you and perhaps even poke at pain you’ve long since stored away. This is one of the most powerful records of the year, and it could just be the beginning of this band doing really incredible things.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://store.deathwishinc.com/category/new.html

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

There are artists whose records immediately grab you, strangle your lungs, and cause your mind to go into near panic mode over the sheer transparency of their work. The late Jason Molina was an artist like that for me, someone who you trusted was putting every thought and emotion, no matter how scarring, in front of you to examine. There’s nothing left to imagination.

With her excellent third solo record “Marked for Death,” Emma Ruth Rundle is becoming one of those artists. The first time I spent with this record left me gasping, wondering what I’d just heard and if I could face it anymore. This is accomplished amid quiet, vulnerable folk, smearing rock, and Rundle’s raw, expressive voice that sounds as naked and vulnerable as ever on this record. The album is situated in darkness, self-doubt, defeat, and confusion. There is life and love irretrievably broken, and every word that comes out of Rundle’s mouth seems so vital and final, that you feel like she’s about to close the door on you, never to speak to you again. These are some of the best songs Rundle ever has created, and it’s unquestionably her best solo record.

While Rundle’s solo work might not seem a natural for a metal site, we beg to differ. She’s made impressive, penetrating noise with post-rock stompers Red Sparowes, stoned-out The Nocturnes, and with noisy rock band Marriages, whose last record “Salome” we reviewed, loved, and still listen to a lot to this day. This is her grimiest solo work, and while not always heavy musically, it certainly is lyrically. “Marked for Death,” as noted, is Rundle’s third record on her own, with her first being “Electric Guitar One,” an instrumental, ambient-based collection, and her second the excellent “Some Heavy Ocean,” one of the best records released that year. That should tell you something when we say this new one is her best work, because the bar was high, and she hurdled the shit out of it.

The record wastes no time going for the throat with the title cut, a song that creeps its way into the room, starting quietly and unassumingly before breaking open on the chorus, with Rundle morbidly poking, “Who else is going to love someone like you who’s marked for death?” Strings cut in, the mood is dark and vulnerable, and Rundle finishes up by asking, “Who else would ever stay?” “Protection” is blunt and something altogether different from her last record. Actually, there are a lot of songs like that here. Anyhow, drums encircle, while the music take on a noiry swoon, leading into the chorus and the thunderous guitar smear that emerges from there. “I am worthless in your arms,” Rundle calls, while spacious, bloodletting playing fills up the room and your chest. “Medusa” unleashes dusty guitars and emits a Western moan, while other elements mix in and give it an autumnal chill. Later the song turns dreamy and hypnotic, later disappearing into numbness. “Hand of God” trickles in with acoustic guitars, as the song gets darkly moody, with Rundle directing, “Bring your sons and lay them down in front of me.” The fog keeps thickening and sweltering, with the track ending in a murky haze.

“Heaven” opens amid quiet guitars and hushed singing, with a simple kick drum poking holes over the chorus. Strings mix into the piece, as the noise levels rise and threaten before the tide pulls back and drags everything toward the sea. “So Come” has thorny guitars and verses that feel like they’re about to crack under the emotional weight. The chorus allows for the release, with Rundle leveling, “All these things come down, I wish they would not,” a line that will spin in your head over and over again. “Furious Angel,” while not the loudest track on the record, is the one that brings the most vengeance. Stormy guitars, an ominous ambiance, and Rundle demanding, “Rain death from above onto me,” provides both the hell fire and the brimstone and should leave any listener heaving. Rundle leaves the biggest crusher for last, a raw, noise-buzzed, completely emotionally exposed track “Real Big Sky,” smartly presented in its demo form. There’s no way not to be impacted by the song, as you can’t tell if she’s about to give way to death or if she’s observing another person’s fight. “I don’t want to be awake when it takes me,” she calls, making it seem like she’s begging on bloodied hands and knees. But she injects a bit of hope, adding, “I can’t wait to see you smile on the other side.” It might be the saddest song of the year, and it would be easy to imagine someone totally vulnerable to what’s going on here being rendered smothered, emitting wailing, uncontrollable tears.

Rundle has made the record of her life with “Marked for Death,” the most exposed, heart-bruised of her career. These are songs that should bring people to beg for mercy and they confront the same hurt and confusion Rundle did when writing these songs. She has gone from being a great artist to one you have to stop whatever you’re doing to hear. Rundle’s always been an excellent vessel for delivering pain, but now she’s entered a new level of power that could cripple weaker souls.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.hellomerch.com/collections/emma-ruth-rundle/products/marked-for-death-bundles

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