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/

Over the summer, tons and tons of people, your barely esteemed writer included, got caught up, nay, completely enraptured, with a group of kids in Hawkins, Indiana, in 1983 whose best friend goes missing, only to have them go on an eight-episode escapade trying to find him. It was a totally unexpected, transfixing show that bridged generations and caused an insane amount of fan-crazed discussion.

The magic behind that is we got caught up in the lives of characters who don’t actually exist and a scenario that didn’t actually happen. When you step away from what that is and break it down, it seems like a pretty crazy thing to do. But the show “Stranger Things,” and so many other programs, books, movies, records, etc., that enrapture us, often do so because they are an escape. They’re a way to set the events of our daily lives—whether they’re good or bad—aside so that we can have somewhere to go and lose ourselves for some time. It can be both healthy and harmful, depending on how far we take it, but often it becomes absolutely necessary just so we can get away for a while.

Canadian doom duo Vile Creature document that very thing on their thunderous new EP “A Pessimistic Doomsayer,” which acts as a sort of reaction piece to their excellent debut “A Steady Descent Into the Soil.” Standing up for social issues the way they do often can bring terrible criticism and mockery from many in the metal world, because too many have a narrow-minded vision for what this music can or should do. That pressure, along with the harsh realities of everyday life we all experience, can put one in the position to need an escape. Therefore, these relationships with fictional characters and scenarios can provide an outlet, relieving the tension for some time and helping one experience something positive. Read further here to Noisey’s write-up about the record. Metal has an abundance of negativity on which to feed, and that’s actually a good thing, but the counterbalance from the band—drummer/vocalist Vik and guitarist/vocalist K.W.—also can be a great, enthralling thing, especially when you submit yourself to their cavernous onslaught of sound. In addition to the core members of the band, vocalist Laura Minnes provides her great voice, balancing out the savagery.

The EP is made up of a 17:50-long title track that opens with delicate sounds as the track begins to sets its pace. The track begins to buzz and then erupts, with clean calls of, “From darkness you must fall, frail and weak,” as the seeds are planted for the journey ahead. As the track picks up steam, the sludging turns violent, as Minnes’ singing meeting headlong with furious growls. “This world has no safe space for me!” Vic wails, adding extra, grimy emphasis to “we.” That chaos simmers as the ambiance sets back to serene and dreamy, Minnes noting, “We live like cicadas, burrowing for years, avoiding predators.” That’s a sobering line, as it perfectly describes those of us who try to dig beneath all of the turmoil for a place to gather one’s sanity. The singing is pained but confident over the din of noise, feeling like the aftermath of a soaking summer storm, and then the fires burn again. The song begins to hulk anew, with Vic wailing, “I am the mountains that crush, I am the end, I am the reckoning, I am your end,” as the track dissolves back into the earth.

Vile Creature’s run is just beginning, but already they have two emotionally jarring pieces including this great new EP “A Pessimistic Doomsayer.” We’ve all poured ourselves into something in order to escape everyday life or the things that threaten us in order to gain some composure or simply to disappear for a while. This band has expressed those ideals and what leads to them quite well, and this EP lets you know if you need those times to get lost in another world, you’re certainly not alone.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://vilecreature.bandcamp.com/album/a-pessimistic-doomsayer

To buy their debut album (just issued on vinyl), go here: https://www.erodingwinds.com/collections/lps/products/vile-creature-a-steady-descent-into-the-soil-lp

I’ll avoid the expected and obvious way to say this based on modern pop culture, but the winter months will be here soon in North America. The evenings already are noticeably losing their light as the days go on, and mornings are starting to arrive with a chill in the air. It’s the perfect time for black metal, as well as countless servings of dark beers.

It’s also the ideal setting for the arrival of new music from English black metal band Winterfylleth, whose new record “The Dark Hereafter” is more of the good stuff. The band doesn’t travel too far away from the boot-caked icy trails they’ve walked for years, and anyone who is a fan of their music dating back to the beginning should feel warm and welcome with these five new tracks. If there’s one alteration, most of the songs are a bit shorter and to the point. Also, we’re served about half as many songs as we’ve come to expect on what’s the band’s shortest record to date at a little under 41 minutes. But that’s not a bad thing, necessarily. It’s a succinct, tight record that makes its point and gets out. There’s something to be said for not overfeeding, and you won’t leave this feeling overly full.

Winterfylleth, whose name translates from Old English into Winter Full Moon, which represents the first full moon of October, have been making atmospheric black metal infused with boatloads of melody for nearly a decade now. The band—guitarist/vocalist Chris Naughton, new guitarist Dan Capp, bassist Nick Wallwork, and drummer Simon Lucas—first shook hearts on their excellent 2009 debut “The Ghost of Heritage,” released by Profound Lore. Their 2010 offering “The Mercian Sphere” saw the band move to Candlelight Records, and that was followed by “The Threnody of Triumph” in 2012 and “The Divination of Antiquity” in 2014. Two years later, we’re greeted “The Dark Hereafter,” a record that keeps adding fuel to the band’s English history-centered violence.

The title track opens the record, with the song erupting in a fury immediately, melodies lapping over everything, and the growls rumbling. The track has an epic feel, which is not exactly a surprise for a Winterfylleth song, and from there the darkness overflows before bursting with life on the back end before fading away. “The Pariah’s Path” is treated with thick melodies and swirling playing, with Naughton’s passionate cries pounding inside your chest. The playing is infectious and spirited, with riffs spilling all over the place, a clean calm emerging temporarily, and the band picking up with deep “oh-oh-oh” bellowing as the song disappears into the fog. “Ensigns of Victory” is built on strong riffs as the song launches forward. Melodies sweep everything in its path, while every element cascades gloriously, and the band continues to pound away. Wild cries and hammering riffs combust, as the song comes to its final resting place.

“Green Cathedral” is the longest cut on the record as 13:03, and it is inspired by a concept by author Ben Myers (Turning Blue) that the natural and rural world can be a more spiritually enriching place than any religion. Well, those things sure as shit inspire far less hatred and violence. The track begins with an eerie soundscape spreading as the music turns to a gothy flow. As the song begins to open up with power, acoustics blend into the mix, and the track heads in a mid-paced march. Moody soloing arrives, which the tempo changes up, and synth begins to stretch over like a cloud. As the song reaches its final minutes, it hits into full bore again, with wrenching cries and a solemn reading lingering over the last notes. Closer “Led Astray in the Forest Dark” has drums crumbling, riffs cutting in, and one real surprise in the emergence of clean singing. Naughton’s voice sounds almost liturgical at times, calling, “No one remembers me,” as the electricity blends with acoustic passages, and a lightning storm of soloing arrives and ends the song on a blood-pumping high.

Winterfylleth have been one of the most consistent bands in black metal both in sound and work ethic, hitting back every two years without fail. “The Dark Hereafter” serves to further solidify their catalog and to provide a record that’s a little easier to digest with each listen. Their music is set for seasons like the ones on which we are about to embark, and this record will make a fine companion on freezing days and endlessly darkened nights.

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

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

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

As much as metal has expanded philosophically and musically, there’s still more than enough room for chaos, hatred, and putridity. After all, much of metal works to expose the dark side, the thorny reality that is everyday life, and the ways we can slice through all of that via fire and violence.

That brings us to Predatory Light, whose debut, self-titled record pours on the volcanic ash, the smothering anger, and the gory punishment. Granted, they have more going on in their minds than just blunt assaults, but we’ll get to that in a moment. Their doom-infested servings of black metal will leave you with the feeling that you chewed your way through a coal mine, choking on the ash, begging for water, oxygen, or just a merciful end. The six songs that make up their debut record punish and penetrate your senses, dragging you against your will into the mouth of hell. As noted, we’re not dealing with caveman material lyrically and philosophically either. Predatory Light see this music as a vessel, a way to tear back the mind and flesh and to reincarnate oneself in torment. So you’re challenged and pushed in every aspect of this record, and this band is one to fear.

As noted, this is the initial full-length record under Predatory Light’s belt, but it’s certainly not the first thing they’ve ever dragged to the surface. The band released two demos in 2014, just three years after they formed, and then a year later, they contributed to a fiery split effort with Vorde. The members of this band—guitarist/vocalist L.S., guitarist K, bassist D.F., drummer N.M.—bring with them experience elsewhere burning trails with groups as diverse and smothering as Triumvir Foul, Vanum, Ash Borer, Anhedonist, Drought, and many others, and their work here gives the world another powerful, bloodthirsty band to keep black metal deadly.

“Laughing Wound” begins the record, and there’s a bit of gamesmanship at the front end. Noise and keys gel, making it seem like we’re going to ease into this thing, or that a psychedelic bath possibly awaits. Instead, a smothering doom riff drops, brimming in full Sabbath worship, and then the track tears open. Deep, heaving growls arrive, as the song blisters you, and fires start blazing. The pace gets dizzying, almost as if the sparks of lightheadedness are in your field of vision, with wails about tearing away flesh and souls, and the track huffing away. “Lurid Hand” trudges, while the main guitar line snakes all over the place, feeling oddly playful. Dark growls rumble beneath the din, while the song hits hyper drive, with the drums crushing everything, the tempo blinding your eyes, and a mystical finish that lets the song evaporate into mist. “Path of Unbeing” keeps up with the display of metallic hypnosis, with blunt growls punching holes, and the song driving steadily ahead. The song speeds up suddenly, spilling a sea of animosity, with the playing searing, and the guitars cutting their way through. Infernal howls strike the air and induce horror, while the song comes to a smoking, rumbling end.

“Divine Membrance” simmers in harsh sounds and horrific psychosis, as the guitars blow things apart and riffs begin to bend all over the place. Nasty death-style growls surface, with a spooky pace taking hold and the track then launching into speed. The riffs spill down into a doom sprawl, with the cut dissolving into dust. “Sacrum (Feral Devotion)” has a strange, chilling beginning, with clean guitars whirring and then the claws sinking into the earth. Crazed cries and lurched growls mix together, as the menace hits a sense of urgency but then calms into haunted madness. Then, the gas pedal is glued to the floor, and the track burns off violently. Closer “Born of the Wrong Blood” spins your surroundings, almost to the point of nausea, while gurgling growls and tornadic guitars shake that up even further. The song clobbers heavily, as wild shrieks lace the flesh, howls of, “Speak!” bruise you, and the song fades into a hellish oblivion.

Predatory Light’s journey may have just begun, but the woods are on fire behind them, and they are insistent on incinerating everything in front of them. This self-titled debut is a smoking, sinewy, swaggering record that rubs your face in the dirt until you come up gasping. If more black metal sounded as feral and vile as this, that section of the metal world would be in much better shape.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.invictusproductions.net/shop/

Or here: http://psychicviolence.bigcartel.com/

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

And here: https://www.facebook.com/PSYCHICVIOLENCERECORDS/

Photo by Scott Evans

We’re not often is the presence of royalty these days when it comes to metal and heavy music. Part of that is there just aren’t many old guard gods left among us, so when we hear from them, it becomes a major event. The other reason is we’re just not creating those types of musicians and bands anymore.

So when you get a new record from one of these bands who are unquestioned standard-bearers, it’s practically time for genuflection and silent reflection. So if you need to do that before taking on “Fires Within Fires,” the 11th record from Neurosis, it is very much understood and expected. This band is arguably the most influential heavy music act of the past 20 years (the band itself just celebrated their third decade together), and their impact is so great, it’s impossible to measure. Remove Neurosis from music history, and you’d see bands just vanish from the planet in some sort of bizarre rapture. Without this band, there are sections of music that likely don’t exist, and any time they reveal new music, it’s something to behold.

“Fires” is one of the band’s shortest records in a long time. At five tracks and 41 minutes**, it almost seems like an EP simply because of who is involved. The band—guitarists/vocalists Scott Kelly and Steve Von Till; bassist, backing vocalist Dave Edwardson; keyboard player/sound designer Noah Landis; drummer Jason Roeder—convened in conjunction with their shows celebrating their three decades together and started hammering out new sounds and fleshing out these songs. This record, at least to me, didn’t impact me instantly. In fact, I’m still feeling my way through these songs to see how they hit me. At times, the record feels more stripped back than the onslaughts we’ve come to expect from them. It’s not nearly as huge and engulfing as their last record, 2012’s “Honor Found in Decay” and their classic works. It certainly is a good record, but sometimes it doesn’t feel full. Maybe that’s because of its length. Maybe expectations are the cause. But whatever it is, I’m still seeking its full power.

“Bending Light” begins the record with plodding pounding, the guitars taking on a liquidy feel, similar to how they were a couple decades ago, and a long, crawling stretch. Psyche keys wash into the room, and then the bottom tears out, with cries of, “This restless sea is breaking me!” smothering with tumult. Later, refrains of, “Peeling the skin away reveals the heart,” sits in chaos, which simmers until it gives way. “A Shadow Memory” boils amid clean guitars and a calculated pace, before the words are barked out as the pace pulls back. The eruption hits, with more colors poured into the guitars, the impact shaking the room, and the riffs tearing away the pieces of crumbling walls. “Slit the throats of those who light the torches!” is bellowed with conviction as noise leans in and pulls the track to its end.

“Fire Is the Lesson” starts with stirring, slurry guitars that punch deep and jar your brain inside your skull. The rhythms cross your eyes, while Von Till and Kelly trade off howling lines, making for a scary, two-headed beast. A hypnotic acoustic line blends in behind, giving the track an uncomfortable vibe. Later the song spits shrapnel, with the title warbled over and over again, and the final minutes scathing. “Broken Ground” lets sounds hover, spreading dreamland sentiment into Western dust. The song kicks up, with every element threatening, and the growls churn and breath iciness, giving off the ambiance of a cold winter afternoon spent in the wilderness. Further explosions come out of that, but all of that dissolves into psyche clouds. Closer “Reach” is the lengthiest cut at 10:37, with effects spiraling, harmonized singing bleeding emotion, and a shadowy section of land bathing in darkness. Guitars come to life, albeit during a tempo that is numbing and serene, something that feels like it’ll last the length of the song. But you know it’s a red herring, and with minutes remaining, the band crushes you with heavy riffs. Noise zaps at you, as the voices feel like they’re bound to decimate throats, as the cry of, “We will never, ever get to rest!” feeling like it could be the band’s motto and a promise that there is more terrain left to burn in the future.

Neurosis making new, relevant music is a wonderful thing, and they haven’t lost their edge. “Fires Within Fires” doesn’t instantly come off like a classic, and at this point, and I don’t feel it’s in the top half of their best work. But with each Neurosis record comes absorption, and honestly, this would be an easier review to write a year from now instead of with limited listens. Neurosis remain one of heavy music’s greatest peaks, an unattainable high-water mark for every other band. Even a good Neurosis record is better than most, and who know how this thing will grow in the months and years to come?

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

To buy the album, go here: https://neurotrecordings.merchtable.com/artists/neurosis/?no_redirect=true

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

**There are track listings elsewhere that have this record closer to 60 minutes with longer track times. Are we being Old Man Gloomed here? Just putting that out there.

Photo by Stephanie Hagemen0

Adhering to a formula or recipe is a fail-safe way not to totally eff something up and/or ruin it completely. Following the instructions and ingredients to the letter might seem like a non-adventurous way to do things, but it also means something that shouldn’t be in your concoction—ketchup in a chocolate cake mix—remains out of the way.

You can say Dallas trio True Widow have perfected their slow-gaze recipe the past few years and have followed it nearly to a fault. The band’s records and music essentially can be anticipated pretty closely, and any steering from the path is done carefully and with plenty of forward thinking and precision. That might sound like a boring way to make rock music, and for some it is, but it works for True Widow. Their fourth record “Avvolgere” treads a similar path as their last album, 2013’s “Circumambulation,” but it does so in a tried-and-true, steady manner where you get the exact fix for need from the band. Granted, True Widow have tested and experimented with what they do, and the period that followed 2011’s “As High as the Highest Heavens and From the Center to the Circumference of the Earth” is where they seem to have perfected their formula. If anything, this new album tightens up those reigns, and the band sounds damn good doing it.

Having done their thing for almost the past decade, True Widow also have carved out a nice following and one of those special slots where they’d sound perfectly sharing a stage with bands from any number of styles—shoegaze, doom, post-rock, you name it. The group—guitarist/vocalist D.H. Phillips, bassist/vocalist Nicole Estill, drummer Timothy “Slim” Starks—are a well-oiled machine over these 10 tracks, keeping the pace rumbling and every now and again shooting out of their comfort zone for some added color. They may not be wildly experimental on “Avvolgere,” but they deliver strong, consistent sounds in a way only they can, numbing your overworked brain in the process.

“Back Shredder” kicks off everything, with noise swimming in the air, riffs chugging, and Phillips taking the lead. The track buzzes along, with the guitars lighting up later, and a strong charge taking you to the end. “Theurgist” has a steely riff and the bassline sliding under the thunder. The track has some thick ’90s-style fuzz, with Phillips posing, “I’ll never know just why you’ve come to me,” as the tempo pushes nicely and gets the blood moving. “F.W.T.S:L.T.M.” is another of the band’s oddly titled songs we’ve come to love. The drums move steadily, with a dreamy, humid pace, as Phillips pokes, “They said I’d never come around, but I bet I come around tonight.” The pace is calculated and simmering, with the song coming to chilled-out end. “The Trapper & the Trapped” has slurry guitars, with Phillips and Estill sharing the vocals. It’s sort of a call-and-response style, with him handling more of the chorus, and all along, the rhythm pelts and the guitars bristle. “O.O.T.P.V” is a cool one, with Phillips quipping, “Sooner or later, I’m gonna get tired,” and later on the chorus he levels, “I try to run away, but I can’t seem to run.” It’s a catchy song, and the chorus will glue itself to your brain.”

“Entheogen” has guitars waking up and pushing the tide, with Phillips speak singing, almost like Tom Petty at his sneeriest. The tempo and feelings are dark and foreboding here, bringing in a different atmosphere to the proceedings. “To All That He Elong” is a bit of a curveball, led by acoustic guitars and Estill cutting through with her singing. As the song goes along, the drums echo and the guitars squeak away. “Sante” is a great cut, one of the best in the band’s history, and again Estill leads the charge. The chorus really hammers hard, feeling a bit like an old Pixies song, with her challenging, “Take me away, take me right now.” “Grey Erasure” lets riffs rise and the drums punch some holes. “Something’s out to get me,” Phillips warns, as the track reflects his paranoia and fear with murky guitars and a crumbling finish. Closer “What Finds Me” is a strong final statement, with Estill sifting through changing emotions and the evolution of what moves her, noting, “As the years go by, I will change my mind.” This is a great last burst, with Estill and Phillips harmonizing and then everything dissolving into cosmic dust.

You always have a pretty good idea what to expect with a True Widow record, and that’s not a bad thing at all. “Avvolgere” is well played, cuts right through you, and should leave your head buzzing as you take on these 10 songs. As long as True Widow keep treading this path, they’ll be a reliable, bruising band always willing to give you a dose of the good stuff only they can make this well.

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

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

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

A lot of the music I listen to for review here goes through my ears while at work. It’s a nice way to experience the music in a less critical setting since I have bigger matters at hand. But now and again I’ll get to something that scrambles my brain and jumbles my psyche so thoroughly, I either have to give up the other thing I’m doing or stop playing the music entirely.

Honestly, I’ve never had that issue with Dysrhythmia’s music before. But that was before their seventh (seventh?!) full-length “The Veil of Control” arrived to blow that all to hell. Before, I could process their music and their insane, encircling compositions and use them to push me forward. They would become a sort of motivator, for better or worse, and always worked really well to get my brain moving to tackle larger things. But the perplexing, blistering six songs on this record put me on the brink of paranoia. What was my mind doing to me? Why was I so distracted by this music that I had to submit to it blindly and push everything else to the side? It felt like the band was into something different on this record, settling into an area that sits just a bit apart from the rest of their catalog. Oh, and it’s also fucking amazing. I probably should have put that out there sooner.

This progressively brutal and confounding trio is comprised of guitarist Kevin Hufnagel (he sticks to a 12-string for this entire record, so imagine the insanity), bassist Colin Marston, and drummer Jeff Eber, and for nearly two decades now, they’ve been blowing minds and making brain connections catch fire and melt. Their music certainly should appeal to those who feast on the virtuoso realms in extreme music and metal (I mean, it’s no accident two-thirds of this band are in Gorguts), but it’s not limited to that audience. The band creates compelling, spiraling melodies, strange sci-fi-style adventures, and songs you have to hear to believe because they can’t really be described. Though I’m going to try like hell to do that below.

The album starts with the title track, and it engulfs the senses right away. Drums erupt as the song takes on a spooky nighttime feel. Prog chilliness sets in, while the soloing sizzles, the pace speeds up and then returns to its normal path, and then frosty thrashing breaks out. The final moments actually have a modern Rush feel to them, which is a nice touch. “Internal_Eternal” has the melodies doing laps around you, with strange, disorienting rhythms, and the guitars swimming through the thick basslines. The track suddenly veers toward space, as everything dissolves into liquid, leaving you on the brink of hypnosis. “Black Memory” rumbles, with the compositions splashing all over, and a zany, nasty fury setting in. The music is fiery and bubbling, with shit going all over the place, and the track eventually finding calm after a series of calculated charges.

“Selective Abstraction” punches and jerks as it begins, with the bass clobbering and a mystical feel spreading over everything. The pace begins to chew up the scene, with sinewy striking, changeups that twist up your guts, and an ending that will leave you wondering what the hell happened. “Severed and Whole” spills right in, with the music flowing like a stream of liquefied steel and the melodies soaking the ground. As the track goes on, it gets weirder and meaner, with the band taking you on a journey with whiplash-inducing turns, the bassline bloodying lips, and the song coming to a charring finish. Closer “When Whens End” is the longest cut at 8:30, and the basslines travel through before clean and distorted guitars join up and wreak havoc. The song trudges hard, hitting on abrasive pockets, but later it slips into dreaminess. But that doesn’t last as the back end of the playing toughens up, the song mashes your senses, and the track ends in a stupefying cloud of dust.

Dysrhythmia will contort and confound for as long as they’re a band, and “The Veil of Control” proves they’re nowhere near exhausting their mania. They’ve managed to push their creativity to new levels of insanity, and if you’re like me, you might find it demands all of your time and energy when it’s unfurling in front of you.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.profoundlorerecords.com/products-page/

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

Photo by Jaclyn Woollard

Summer and metal are two things that always worked hand in hand for me. Possibly that’s because summer is when I really discovered metal, or at least realized how much I love it. As time has gone on, I’ve associated classic metal bands, and those trying their best to keep up the power in the modern era, with the long, hot days of summer.

It’s really a shame that summer is nearly over here in the States, because one of the year’s best classic-minded metal records is being launched by way of Sumerlands, the new band that aligns a group of well-traveled, experienced veterans for the heaviest of causes. Everything about their self-titled debut record is situated in the sounds of 30 years ago, but never in a way that seems gimmicky. The power and glory are real, and if you sit with the music and let it enter your bloodstream you’ll find yourself being whisked away to a place, even if only in the mind, where you cannot be defeated.

Out front for Sumerlands is Phil Swanson, who is best known for his work with Hour of 13, another bands that fought for the survival of metal’s roots. He is in amazing voice here and has some of the most recognizable pipes in underground metal. Along with Swanson are guitarist/synth player Arthur Rizk (also a noted producer for bands such as Power Trip, Inquisition, and Pissgrave), guitarist John Powers, bassist Justin de Torre (Magic Circle, Innumerable Forms), and drummer Brad Raub (War Hungry). The band’s music harkens back to Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, and Cirith Ungol, and they’re best absorbed over a summer evening, with plenty of beverages, and you just wanting to be one with the night.

“Seal” rips open the record with some meaty riffs, great, Halford-style singing, and molten soloing that belts out and scorches. The traditional feel is all over the place, with the band galloping from start to finish. “The Guardian” is a killer, and it would have been right at home right at the midnight hour on Headbangers Ball. This one has an Ozzy/Dio vibe to it, with fantastical elements, and Swanson howling, “I’ll never be forsaken, you’ll always be there by my side.” Later, the singing hits a higher pitch, with the guitars meeting up and driving this one into the moonlight. “Timelash” has a nice dose of crunch but also some brainy progginess. The vocals are pulled back some, with Swanson lashing, “We’re all losers in this game of fools,” with the synth fog spread over, bringing darkness. “Blind” has riffs chewing the thing open, with Swanson wondering, “How far can one fall?” with his singing having an extra twinge of shadow to it. The guitars rip out and create havoc, with the end coming abruptly.

“Sumerlands Haunted Forever” begins with clean guitars trickling like a stream before the thing chugs open. Warm soloing is layered like a glaze, seeming like something that could perfectly soundtrack the sunset, while Swanson offers, “All I ever wanted was some peace for you,” as keys blend in and the tempo punches holes. “Spiral Infinite” hits the gas pedal, with the vocals cutting, the sounds echoing, and Swanson declaring, “Time and space go on!” “Lost My Mind” has strong guitar work, a charged-up feel, and the words dripping with anguish. About the idea of losing one’s mental capacity temporarily, Swanson pokes, “So what if it happens one more time?” as the wall of chaos around him starts coming down on you. The closing title track (band track?) is a cool instrumental that wraps up the record nicely. Noise haze and sound zaps meet, accompanied by a swim through the cosmos, slurry guitars, and a weird, hypnotic vibe that ends in footsteps, possibly signaling the arrival in the Sumerlands.

Sumerlands’ debut may be a bit mistimed—though they’ll sound just as great in the autumn—but what are you going to do? Their first album is an excellent slab of classic metal that’ll get your blood pumping and your fists clenching. They serve the majesty of metal quite well, and with music this good, they should be devoted to the cause well into the future.

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

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

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

Photo by Hemali Zaveri

There any number of things that inspire heavy metal records from societal conditions to personal struggles to anger over religious matters. There also have been many cases where other works of art have led to some of the finest metal on record, and it’s easy to see why something one sees or reads could slip into the pores and influence the creative process.

For two records now, Bay Area metal band Lotus Thief has traveled back in time via various texts, and that has led to two unique, stunning opuses, the latest being “Gramarye.” The title itself deals with occult learning primarily through magic, and that title fits perfectly for these five tracks that visit such legendary works as Homer’s Odyssey, the Merseberg Incantations (magic spells written in Old High German), and the ancient Egyptian funerary passage The Book of the Dead, and even Aleister Crowley’s The Book of Lies. The works that inspired these songs stretch back nearly 2,000 years and led to these stimulating, dramatic tracks that all stretch nearly 10 minutes and keep your lungs pumping. It’s a bit of a departure from their Titus Lucretius Carus-molded debut “Rervm” in that it’s more ambitious and pushes their magic all the way to the stars.

The band is driven by multi-instrumentalist/vocalist/composer Bezaelith (who also recently lent her haunting vocals to Palace of Worms’ great “The Ladder” from earlier this year). On this record, she is joined by drummer Otrebor (Botanist) and Iva Toric on synth and vocals, though Bezaelith expects to announce new lineup soon. What they do here under the Lotus Thief banner is entirely different musically and philosophically. Their last record fell more under the space rock banner, so huge and smashing you could imagine it played in large halls. The music on “Gramarye” remains situated in the cosmos, but the music is blends in more atmospheric black metal and doom, a dramatic, riveting collection of music that has the band making great leaps and bounds ahead, proving just how dexterous they really are.

“The Book of the Dead” opens the record as if you’re beginning an adventure through space, as sounds woosh and then the song opens up. The hearty, soulful singing pushes the song, while the pace begins to rip. A nice influx of melodies brings in a cascade of colors. The song reaches a softer pocket, with vocals that sound angelic and delicate, bringing a light breeze. Then we’re back to convulsions, as creaky whispers and a rising tide send the song on its way. “Circe” lets keys simmer, with sci-fi blips poking away, and the ambiance taking you into a strange nighttime sensation out of the mid 1980s. The tempo begins to chug, while the singing hovers in the air, mixing into brainy synth and later a tougher stretch of playing. The guitars reach out and pull a thick blanket over everything, evoking gasping emotions and later trickling blood over piano keys. “The Book of Lies” has a mystical start, with chimes echoing, psychedelic keys lapping over the surface, and doomy riffs bringing the storms. The vocals get harsh for a stretch, adding a sense of grit and balancing the powerful singing that dominates the track. Guitars take to the air but also provide some crunch, with more growls landing and a prog-fueled dream shifting into the clouds.

“Idisi” provokes as it rides out of the gates, while glorious melodies pour forth, and the main riff bubbles. Psyche fires begin to blaze anew, before serenity heaves a gasp, guitars are plucked, and Bezaelith’s voice unleashes its might. Later, the riffs tighten up, while the melodies spread, shifting into space before a push toward the cosmos through rousing wordless singing. Closer “Salem” lets the bass roam, proving beast-like, while a synth gaze drops, and the track takes on more of the space rock vibe of their first album. The song takes on a gazey post-punk feel for a while, but later, the singing bursts and grabs your attention, and every element reverberates. Winds of sound dash through and join up with the chaos, with the sound spiraling in the air, and everything coming to a dramatic, abrupt end.

This spacious, magical record is one that’ll leave you seeing stars and perhaps perusing those ancient texts that inspired Lotus Thief and these great five songs. “Gramarye” is a confident step forward for the band, the further evolution of their sound, one that’s fluent and ever expanding. This record is an adventurous joy to take on, and even after multiple listens, there remain corners to explore and layers of meaning to peel back and devour.

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

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

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