We’re still months away from the wintry assault that comes with winter, and it feels strange to be writing this with windows open, warm breezes relaxing, and the temperature in the 80s. But music is released when it is, so sometimes you get music to digest that doesn’t really click with the weather.

Nothing wrong with that, really, because eventually the snow will be here in sheets, and that might be the optimum period to heavily indulge in “Dis Manibvs,” the excellent new record from Imperium Dekadenz. Funny enough, the band’s 2013 record “Meadows of Nostalgia” made me think more of the spring thaw, when streams start flowing anew, and life is getting ready to bloom again. But on “Dis Manibvs,” the band is back to the terrain they trudged on 2010’s “Procella Vandens,” making gigantic, frosty black metal that could freeze your blood in the veins. This record feels like staring down a mountain you can’t conquer but trying to go for it anyway. It sends chilled oxygen down your throat and into your lungs, leaving you heaving and disoriented. And as much as this doesn’t fit the scenario, I’m going to be listening to this all week on the beach next week because it’s so damn epic.

Imperium Dekadenz’s entrance into the world took place about 12 years ago, with guitarist, keyboardist, ands vocalist Horaz and guitarist, bassist, drummer, keyboard player Vespasian forming the core of the group (they expand to more members in a live setting). Their first record arrived two years later with “…und die Welt ward kalt und leer,” which they followed a year later with “Dammerung der Szenarian,” the power of which led them to Season of Mist, who released “Procella.” The German band always has had a knack for the dramatic, mixing their darkness with sweeping playing and elements that could transform your surroundings and make you feel like you’re knee deep in snow. Even in August.

The record begins with instrumental “In Todesbanden” that has acoustics flooding in, guitars starting to charge, and a moody atmosphere that blends into “Only Fragments of Light.” There, the melodic onslaught begins, with throaty growls adding thorns, and the cut entering into total spaciousness. Folkish choral chants arrive, guitars wail, and the track fades into the night. “Still I Rise” has an infectious energy, pushing hard, with a great chorus to boot. Everything here positively swells, releasing a sweeping chasm of sound, riffs churning, and the song disappearing into angelic choral singing. The title track has a dark, smoldering start before giving way to an incredibly emotional caterwaul. “All of these memories will never fade,” Horaz howls, as sadness spirals, dwelling on great loss and life experiences that change you forever. The track is heavy and heartfelt, and it’s one of the shining moment on this record. “Pantheon Spells” is another quick cut, with organs swelling, whispers dizzying, and a spacy eeriness making its presence felt.

“Vae Victis” storms open, with speedier playing leading the way and the growling creakier and more monstrous than before. The guitars unload their assault, while the tempo causes bruises to surface, and the whole thing ends abruptly. “Volcano” is a crushing storyteller that coats everything in doomed sentiment. Choral parts are woven into the fabric and increase the tension, while the verses rage with color, causing everything to crumble into decay. “The great snow falls!” Horaz yells, with the riffs overwhelming, bringing everything with it and its tornadic chaos. “Somnia” is the final of three interludes, this one containing acoustic guitars rumbling and angelic singing making the cut feel otherworldly. “Pure Nocturnal Rome” begins calmly before energetic riffs explode and a thunderous pace gets under way. Again, there is a great dose of emotion injected into the song, with growls piercing and the thunderous madness eventually disappearing into a fog. Closer “Seikilos” starts in a sound woosh, with strings plucked before the cut completely tears open. An awesome, classic metal-style riff runs roughshod, with folk-laced chanting of, “Death is certain, life is not,” looping its way through the entire track. In the final moments, the atmosphere begins to settle while soundscapes blend in and New Age-style guitars push to the finish.

Imperium Dekadenz’s impressive run cannot be denied, and “Dis Manibvs” is another great record from this blistering duo. They play huge, cinematic black metal that, while heavy, isn’t bogged down in brutality. Their icy world is massive and foreboding, and it’ll help nearly freeze your bones.

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

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

Or here (International): http://shop.season-of-mist.com/

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

Photo by Chris Martindale

There are those bands that always know a way to reach deep down inside of you and bruise everything contained within your body. No matter where you are or what you’re doing, there is no way to escape their grasp or shake their influence. You’re devastated, and trying to pick up the pieces left behind is your only option.

Salt Lake City doom quintet SubRosa are one of those bands for me. With each new release, they dig within themselves and pour out a doom-bloodied collection of ballads that quake the Earth and bring my heart nearly to a stop. Neurosis have that same impact on me, and I realized with SubRosa’s new, fourth record “For This We Fought the Battle of Ages,” that this band is in that same hallowed ground. Each new record is an event, a collection that must be absorbed multiple times to be totally understood and that consumes my time. I have listened to this record easily in double digits since receiving the music, and every trip is a rush of emotion, a grasp at my chest. This album has SubRosa using Yevgeny Zamyatin’s 1921 novel We (it was translated into English in 1924) as their inspiration, a tale of a future dystopian society where dreams are thought to be a product of mental illness, and mind-altering substances and sex for pleasure are deemed illegal in the society of One State. People live in glass apartments, allowing for strict state surveillance, and protagonist D-503 documents his day-to-day struggles in a journal he hopes to have placed in a spaceship being used to invade other planets. It’s a story that’s as terrifying today (Green Wall, anyone?), not to mention sobering, when applied to what is going on around us.

Tackling this story, as well as the longer, more complex compositions SubRosa unfurl on this record, is by design as the five members—guitarist/vocalist Rebecca Vernon, violinists Sarah Pendleton and Kim Pack, bassist Levi Hanna, and drummer Andy Patterson—sought to push themselves to new heights and determine just what this band was capable of accomplishing. As a result, we find songs that feel more like epics than regular tracks, and as much as two 15-minute-plus tracks and one that approaches 14 minutes might seem to be asking a lot, they never do. They flow beautifully, compellingly, with the conviction of the story flowing (sometimes spitting) from Vernon’s mouth, the dual violins nearly drawing tears, and the rhythm section adding the proper amount of grit to deal supreme heaviness.

“Despair Is a Siren,” the 15:25 opener, details what’s happening in We, and it’s a sweeping, jarring cut that begins with violins whirring in like sirens, and the track trickling open. “I know there’s another world,” Vernon sings, poking at new awareness and expanded realities, as the track begins to tear apart. “My skin doesn’t fit anymore,” Vernon writhes as the track keeps flowing, taking on tumult and simmering power that gains momentum. The song gets heavier as it goes, with the strings swarming and shocking, the guitars trudging, and Vernon defiantly singing, “I’m not sleeping in glass chambers, who’s the dead one now?” as the cut bleeds to its finish. “Wound of the Warden” is a hefty 13:28, and it kicks off with a solid, sooty bassline and the track unloading crunch, with Vernon vowing, “One day they’ll be grateful,” pointing at sacrifices ahead. The tempo becomes reflective and even tender at a point before the music and the darkness return. “Laughter ceases at the gates,” Vernon wails, before warning, “Not one misstep, not one mistake,” as the foreboding feelings meet up with the swirling conclusion.

“Black Majesty” opens with strings humming and Vernon singing nakedly and vulnerably over top, before the power kicks in with her practically howling, “Isn’t it beautiful?” That sentiment is all over this song and revisits us later. The song swells into a deluge, with the hammers dropped hard and the band digging deep within. Relentless hammering arrives, loosening teeth, while Vernon prods, “Isn’t it beautiful to live and die alone?” The crunch continues but eventually gives way as the song trickles out with Vernon noting a silence so profound it’s painful. “Il Cappio,” which is noose in Italian, is a quick, stirring interlude, leading into “Killing Rapture” that settles in with cascading strings and even some pedal guitar to add sorrowful texture.  The pace is moody and shadowy, with verses pulling at your heart and conviction cutting into your skin. The momentum gains steam as the volume rises, with the strings sinking their teeth, the storm bearing down, as the band unloads hard. It feels like the walls are collapsing all around, with Vernon noting a society “where everything’s been decided for us,” as each element falls away. Closer “Troubled Cells” is a crusher for sure, a track full of sadness, despair, and raw anger. It starts with a psyche wash that reminds of “No Quarter,” and the song takes a slow, heaving tempo. As things break open, Vernon laments, “If there’s no way through for you, there’s no way through for me,” leading into the emotions hitting a crescendo, first with the insistence of, “There is no greater good,” and later with the fiery declaration, “Paradise is a lie if we have to burn you at the stake to get inside.” Souls quiver and the curtain falls, as the song fades out, swallowed by a glimmering cloud.

It’s not going out on a limb to say SubRosa are one of the modern era’s best, most unique heavy metal bands, and they deliver enough emotion, tumult, and drama to fill an ocean. “For This We Fought the Battle of Ages” is another incredible triumph for the band, and incredible step ahead that seemed impossible after their past work, yet they pulled it off anyway. This is special event music, a record that can make you stop dead in your tracks, make you forget everything you’re doing, and get you involved heart and soul in an album and a story as relevant and powerful as anything else today.

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

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

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

An epic space saga sounds like a pretty good thing right now. This has been a week of relentless garbage, with each day seemingly trying to outdo the one before it in bringing annoyances and stress that I wouldn’t care to measure. That’s a huge reason why jettisoning beyond our planet and toward others, if even on a fantasy scale, would be most welcome at the moment.

Luckily, an interesting and ambitious new split from Mare Cognitum and Aureole has landed courtesy of Fallen Empire. But this isn’t your everyday shared recording where each band gets a chance to show what they can do. Instead, this is a cosmic story that you might have to listen to a completely different album to grasp in full. “Resonance: Crimson Void” contains events that take place before Aureole’s debut album “Alunar” (great, weird album that I highly recommend). So it’s a prequel of sorts. Aureole crafted the story, but Mare Cognitum share with the telling, as each group contributes two tracks that spreads the thematic elements. The story centers around the Citadel Alunar, its bell tower, and a civilization that is in collapse as its inhabitants reach to the stars for answers. The citadel eventually encounters and is engulfed by the Rosette Nebula (see the amazing cover art), causing chaos, a great struggle, and the suffocation of life by hands emerging from the bell, until the bell tower finally collapses. Yet, the citadel lives, and from this, it emerges with newfound knowledge and must rebuild itself. That’s a rudimentary summary, but the lyrics (found on the bandcamp site https://marecognitum.bandcamp.com/album/resonance-crimson-void-2) can guide you even further.

Mare Cognitum is a project that’s no secret to our readers, as we’ve talked about the Jacob Buczarski-led force quite often. In fact, we’re going to travel into his atmospheric black realms again in a couple weeks when the new Mare Cognitum full-length drops in our laps. As for Aureole, it is helmed by Ukrainian musician M.S., and the “Alunar” album was our first real introduction into his musical world, a place that can feel intergalactic and medieval at the same time. This pairing makes a lot of sense musically, and their work blends together nicely. The fact they both could work on such a complicated story together and send into new dark corners is stunning.

Mare Cognitum start with “Crimson Abyss: NGC 2237,” a 13:44-long track that washes in from nowhere and brings with it intoxicating star dust. Fittingly, bells begin to chime, with tempos shifting, the light and dark clashing, and the vocals being emitted as shrieks and growls. “Hold the flame aloft, into the black abyss,” Buczarski wails, as the song continues its fluid pace before going on a mesmerizing twist. Howls erupt anew, swimming through orbit, as the speed kicks up, sounds glaze and rain down, and the track ends with a stirring surge and more bells ringing out. “Crimson Abyss: NGC 2238” is a shorter one at 5:20, and it wastes no time, clobbering out of the gate, curdling your blood. Melodies crush as they mix with fury, as strong riffs peel flesh, and the intensity burns brightly. “Ghastly fingers run like daggers across the skin to tear asunder fading blood within,” Buczarski unleashes, as great soloing blinds your eyes, and the cut comes to an abrupt, dramatic finish.

Aureole get going on “Void Obsidian: NGC 2244” that basks in planetary soundscapes before charging up into a thick drone fog. Ugly, gritty guitars join the fray, as M.S. cries, “The towers swallowed, the amalgamation cast, yet the bell ever tolls,” as it heads into a pocket of melody. The track splits open again later as a volcanic push drives the power, blowing heat and causing your skin to flood with perspiration. Late guitars pick up and pull the song to its finish, bleeding out and opening the gate for “Void Obsidian: NGC 2246.” There, a violent outburst reaches out to strangle, with weird, echoed cries that make your muscles quiver, and a hypnotic fog settles in. Things are burly and weird through the bulk of the run, with whispery growls swirling overhead, and drone mixing into electrified pooling. Massive guitar work takes over the brunt, churning and spinning, heading into a chiming hypnosis, and sending Alunar onto the next phase of its volatile existence, a chapter Aureole already has written.

Splits are nice, and we cover a ton of them, but it’s even better when you have a piece in front of you like “Resonance: Crimson Void” that is more than just a collection of songs. Mare Cognitum and Aureole taking this story and stretching it out creatively and sonically gives you something a little extra, a destructive plot line that’s both exciting and terrifying. Both of these bands push the limits of what they can achieve on their own, so it only made sense they’d find explosive new ways to challenge your mind in the same creative space.

For more on Mare Cognitum, go here: https://www.facebook.com/MareCognitumMusic/

For more on Aureole, go here: https://www.facebook.com/AureoleBM

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

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

Metal is prime territory for the concept album, and over the past four decades, we’ve had our share of them from bands as huge as Iron Maiden and Queensrÿche (R.I.P. I know they’re still a band. R.I.P.). Just this year, we had Vektor’s great, must-hear “Terminal Redux,” and this week we kicked off the week with one from Morrow, tomorrow we have yet another, and Friday another!

So there’s a ton of storytelling going on in metal, but perhaps none as weird and, uh, fungal as what Lesbian pulled off on their new album “Hallucinogenesis.” I probably could just put the title out there, and that would be plenty to let you guess what transpires on this record. But, what the hell, they put a lot of time into this, so let’s dig into the story. On this record, we follow the story of Earth after it’s hit with a spore-filled asteroid that goes on to transform the planet into a new dawn of creation called “Pyramidal Extistinctualism.” The process continues over and over on the backs of meteorites pulled toward the sun, with few survivors, with the Kosmoceratops among them. It’s crazy as shit, and yeah, it seems pretty damn druggy (not a surprise considering the band’s past work), but it’s also a damn fun burst of energy. It’s clear the band takes their chops deathly seriously, but it’s nice that they’re so loose and creative with their mission.

Lesbian have been around for more than a decade now, putting together what they refer to as “the final wave of prehistoric phantasy thrash.” That strange description is slapped over a frenetic sound that mixes death metal, sludge, and, sure, some thrash into a mysterious concoction that’s equally brutal and nerve crunching. The band’s first record “Power Hor” landed in 2007, followed by “Stratospheria Cubensis” in 2010, and their eye-opening, single-cut “Forestelevision” in 2013. The band responsible for “Hallucinogenesis”—new vocalist Brad “B.R.A.D.” Mowen (formerly of Burning Witch, Asva, the Accüsed), guitarists Arran McInnis and Daniel La Rochelle, bassist/vocalist Dorando Hodous, drummer Benjamin Thomas-Kennedy—sound tight and on fire, rolling out this insane storyline and filling your head with punishing madness.

“Pyramidal Existinctualism,” a wordful of a title, starts the record with riffs tearing open, mind-altering singing, and a dramatic bit of playing. The singing turns to tortured wails and creaky speaking, as the song tears its way through the cosmos and zaps into plenty of weird progressions. Things get bubbly and colorful not long after, almost as if the spores have entered your bloodstream, and later the mania is just off the charts. Space fire is spat, while the guitars charge up again as riffs emit power and energy, with hefty vocals bruising as the track comes to its end. “Labrea Borealis” is the longest track at 14:31, and it starts cleanly and smoothly, making things feel oddly serene. Then guitars erupt, with the vocals going from crazed shouts to shrieks to desperate howls. The music itself digs into the dirt and brings raucous madness, with the band chanting away, as if summoning a force from far away, and then the repeated lines of, “Levitate, circulate, populate!” detail the meteorites’ creation process and what leads to this fungal new existence. From there, a cavernous solo arrives, with the music feeling spacious and huge, with a numbing sequence bleeding toward the cut’s final thick glaze.

“Kosmoceratops” follows one of the last remaining species after the events described on the record, and fuck, if this thing isn’t mean as hell. The music implies as much, stampeding and raging with a full steam, with the warning, “Bow your head as it takes your life.” The assault dies down for a little bit as the music stretches out and get proggier, but all the while, the threat is in the air. Psychedelic shades and pained wails push the plot, as mass killings ensuing and parasites falling from moonlight are detailed. Finally, in the song’s final stretch, the bloodshed reaches its apex, as cries of, “Cold-blooded killer hunting me!” leaves a streak of plasma across the ground. Closer “Aqualibrium” gets off to a hammering start, as the 11:46-long mauler lets loose with scathing screams and later warbling singing to go along with the settling pace. From there, things get odd, especially with the deranged singing, while death chugs emerge and start the blackening. The pace again goes for dream mode, with higher singing pushing things into the stratosphere, and then some near-King Diamond banshee cries destroying everything. As the track nears its end, the drama is ramped up, emotions hit a crescendo, and the band sends you off with a crunchy, thrashy final beating.

Your mind doesn’t have to be altered to accept what you’re hearing on “Hallucinogenesis,” but I’m guessing it might help see all of the weirdness going on here. Lesbian’s journey has been a unique one that’s been fun to follow, and with each new dose of madness from them, they push you even further into the beyond. Not sure we’ll ever have the psychedelic experience these guys are on about here, but it’s pretty fun to at least imagine it.

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

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

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

It feels like we live in a brutalized, fractured society, at least here in America. I can’t really speak for the rest of the world, but going out in public, amid people with nary a filter, you practically can chew on the animosity and hatred toward others. People are growing more evil, and that isn’t a boulder easily stopped from raging down the hillside.

I’m not sure that even was something thought about when Morrow went about writing “Covenant of Teeth,” their cataclysmic new record, but it seems like you can run your fingers across those grains during the music. The album itself is a concept piece that imagines cultures on a future version of the Earth, one spawned following the destruction, be it physical, mental, or both, that humankind exacted on the world. The record follows the Norr, a group whose existence is comprised of the use of various languages and whose lives are formed from a mix of cultural experiences. It’s the way our world could be now, if more people had a modicum of understanding and weren’t so pig-headed about their worldview being the only one that should matter. In fact, on the record, you can hear various languages being used, tying together the concept and giving you a bigger glimpse into this future society.

The band’s sound is hard to pin down, but Apocalyptic expression works pretty nicely. There are elements of doom, crust, hardcore, and so much more on here, and the way these songs build and come crashing down on you requires some deep breaths and a place to steady yourself. As for the band itself, it comprises member of bands as varied as Archivist, Light Bearer, and Carnist, with Alex on vocals, art, and narrative; David on guitar, bass, and drums; and Nicole on cello. Along with the main core come contributions from a whole slew of guests from bands including Anopheli, Wild Speaker, Monachus, the Nepalese Temple Ball, Knifedoutofexistence, and Masakari, not to mention the voice talent. You can feel the weight of all of those contributors in the best way possible, and this record is a mammoth made up of four lumbering cuts.

The album opens with the 11:44-long “Fathom,” a cut that starts with winds and cracking fires, footsteps cutting into the wilderness, and eventually gentle singing accompanied by pianos and lush strings. The piece then opens further, buzzing away and injecting a sense of morose doom, and then gazey melodies sweeping and carrying with them deep, wrenching growls. Muddy chugging joins the fray, as the song spills into melodic, yet gruff territory, with shrieks joining the guttural grunts, the track smothering with power, and the tempo easing up with cellos swelling and bleeding away. “The Norr” starts again with fires, with conversations swirling about, and then a gut-busting display rushing with strings crying and the dam being crushed by the flood. Husky growls spit out the plot, while wild cries join and add another element of chaos. Sounds conjure a heavy gaze, while the pace chugs, then takes on a violent assault, and the surging finish is hammered home with a howl of, “We are nothing but the iceberg!”

“Forgiving Grin” has a punchy rupture at the front end before it goes cold. The cello stretches out and hints at serenity, but that’s torn to shreds by the band mauling, and vicious shrieks mixing in with the growls. The song starts to stomp hard, leaning heavily into hardcore might, with the music feeling like it’s twisting your internal organs. A brief halt arrives, with additional speaking pushing in, and then it tears apart again and leads a ferocious stampede toward the finish. The 10:40-long closer “Cleaved Fang” trickles to a start, with each element slowly joining the mix until the bottom drops out unmercifully. The growls lacerate the senses, with gazey cascading soaking the ground, raspy wails cursing you, and another section of speaking settling in. Out of that, the cut thrashes wildly, with the blows being dealt in a calculated fashion, the atmosphere feeling emotionally overwhelming, and the song rumbling to its final destination.

Morrow’s vision into the future could be pretty accurate if our world keeps going the way it has the past decade or so. A dose of understanding and immersion into other people’s worlds could soothe a lot of what ails us, and that’s a point at which Morrow hit on “Covenant of Teeth.” Perhaps we don’t have to wait for the Norr to pick up our slack, and we can start patching together these gaping holes ourselves.

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

To buy the album, go here (U.S.): http://www.halooffliesrecords.com/releases/

Here (Canada): http://www.chaosruralrecords.com/store/index.php?route=product/category&path=62

Or here (Germany): http://www.doomrock.com/

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

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

And here: https://www.facebook.com/Alerta-Antifascista-Records-official-128382047223480

Every form of artwork needs to evolve in some way in order to stay vital and relevant. You’re seeing that now with network television, where an absolute void of creativity and willingness to make changes is causing their viewership to erode to subscription channels with far better content. Adapt or die.

The same can be said for death metal, a style of music that has a portion of its audience that wants it one way and one way only. We have plenty of guttural brutal bands, as well as those that pay homage to the style’s roots, be that in the swamps or the Scandinavian regions. But the way death metal will persevere is through artists with fresh approaches that also keep the heart of the music true. One of the bands doing that in a major way is Blood Incantation, whose debut record “Starspawn” is about to drop in our laps. This record is being met with much anticipation mainly based on the group’s excellent, eye-opening 2015 EP “Interdimensional Extinction” and split with Spectral Voice (with whom they share members), and the five songs they present on this amazing debut not only will satisfy those who were waiting impatiently for its arrival, but also for those who want a new dose of creativity from their death metal. Package delivered.

Blood Incantation do everything right to give birth to a new dawn of death metal while also keeping the main elements of this style of music bloody and sticky. “Starspawn” is plenty brutal, but it’s also mind-altering, cosmically volatile, and a collection that even could pull in those who hunger for technical prowess. It all works so well, and the added bonus of the music’s strangeness makes what they do here even more alluring. The band is comprised of guitarist/vocalist Paul Riedel (Spectral Voice, Abysmal Dimensions), guitarist Morris Kolontyrsky (Spectral Voice, Stillborn Fawn), bassist Jeff Barrett (Spectral Voice, ex-Velnias), and drummer Isaac Faulk (Wayfarer, Abysmal Dimensions), and they create as vortex of madness that rushes you into space and applies enough pressure to pop your eyes from your skull.

Opener “Vitrification of Blood (Part 1)” is the 13:08-long opener, erupting right away into a patch of spacey muck and strangeness, with the guitar work immediately going to work on your mind. The harsh growls make their first appearance, thrashing away at you, with spacious melodies swimming all through the mire. The track then starts to trudge violently as it continues to explore what lies far beyond our planet, before the band blasts into hyperdrive. A nice stretch of soloing gets the heart racing before things go clean and fluid right before a thrashy ending. “Chaoplasm” has an ugly, brutal start with gurgly growls unloading filth and the tempo going off the rails. Echoes prod and psychedelic glaze is poured over the violence, with the vocals seething and the guitar work twisting your brain. There is a final detonation of power before the track is swallowed into a noise cloud.

“Hidden Species (Vitrification of Blood Part 2)” pounds away from the start, with the vocals ripping gigantic holes and the music stymying and the haze thickening. Later, we soar back into space, with guitar work simmering in mud, and even some cleaner calls arriving to hint at serenity. That pushes toward a dreamy sequence that borders on hypnotic, only to have guitars blaze out of that, ending in a weird dose of punishment. “Meticulous Soul Devourment” is an interdimensional instrumental beginning with noise hovering and guitars zapping, with the melodies becoming mysterious and eerie, and the body of the track melting into the stars. The closing title track is clubbing and relentless from the start, with the band chugging and chewing up ground, and the growls spat out at a blinding clip. Much of the playing is rubbery and sinewy, with the soloing beaming into the universe, the track beginning to combust, and the final growls landing the odd, monolithic exclamation point.

Blood Incantation are one of the most promising new death metal bands anywhere, and the arrival of “Starspawn” could be looked back at years from now as the dawning of a new era for this style of music. This is brutally creative, intergalactically challenging music that proves there is far more to explore not only with death but for metal in general. It’s now up to everyone else to catch up to these guys.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Blood-incantation-508899805936788

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

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

Darkness can come to us in many forms, and that is especially true when it comes to music. Foreboding sentiments, grief, and sorrow can take on different weights and shades, and depending on the artist and situation, you either can be overwhelmed with heaviness or overcome with emotion. Both ways work, and each are welcome at doom’s ever-growing table.

When it comes to UK artist Jayn H. Wissenberg, who helms the shadowy project Darkher, she tends to lean more toward delicacy and ghostliness to express what’s going on inside of her. She debuted with this concept on 2014’s arresting first EP “The Kingdom Field,” which remains a personal go-to recording, and now is back with her captivating debut full-length “Realms.” Over these nine tracks, Wissenberg takes the haunting promise she showed on her first EP and stretches that into a fuller vision. The record goes down so smoothly despite its thick emotions and seeming transcendence into another world entirely. You’ll slip right into those visions, visit her dark dreams, and take on the very tumult and chaos that led her to create this record. With the autumn not very far off, this music is going to sound perfect when the air is chilled, the ground is damp, and the remnants of summer are in the midst of decay.

“Spirit Walker” starts the record as a brief introduction, with eerie noises and a murky soundscape that spills into “Hollow Veil,” where the guitar work starts to prick at your skin. Wissenberg’s singing reminds of PJ Harvey’s more dangerous work, as she calls out, “My heart forever bleeds,” with her ghostly calls fading out with the music. “Moths” is acoustically picked at the start, feeling chilly and rainy, and giving off an essence of vulnerability. “I want to live, not be afraid,” Wissenberg laments, as the power of the track picks up and drubs, and a dense fog arrives and obscures the visions. “Wars” lets guitars simmer and swell, with the drums kicking up and driving the tempo forcefully, and mesmerizing singing icing your brain. As the song goes on, it feels like doom is arriving, with angelic vocals swimming, and the playing driving through your heart. “The Dawn Brings a Saviour” is quiet and vulnerable, with rustic acoustics and sorrowful singing, as Wissenberg calls, “Don’t say you’re never coming back.”

“Buried Part 1” has cellos cutting through like a saw dividing the soul, as soft singing spills in and helps the track blend into “Buried Part 2,” where the guitars start to jostle awake. Thick strings bring gothic drama, with doom-rich guitars dropping hammers, and the drama of the song spitting sparks. As the track goes on, the guitars get heavier, and the strings soar into the skies, leading right into “Foregone.” Evocative choral melodies and steely guitars set the stage, while Wissenberg demands, “Don’t fear anyone’s name,” amid a noir-rich atmosphere. The track heads into heavy, burly terrain, while the soundscape rises and falls and eventually is absorbed back into the earth. Closer “Lament” begins as noises hover overhead, with guitars spiraling and the strings stinging. “I long for the rain to keep on falling, let it wash all my tears to the ground,” Wissenberg sings solemnly, as the pace gains steam, gives off a mystifying fog, and disappears into the atmosphere.

Wissenberg’s amazing gift for expressing darkness is something to behold, and “Realms” is her official unfurling into the world. This record is intoxicating and spiritually limitless, and Wissenberg’s expressive voice and ashen charisma elevate these songs to an even higher level. She is one of the more gifted new artists opening new channels in the doom realm, and Darkher is a project that hasn’t even cracked the surface yet of what it’s truly capable of accomplishing.

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

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

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

As much as I love metal that bludgeons you and gets right at your center with a blow that robs you of your breath, or music that feels like a triumph of glory, I have a soft spot for records and bands that get inside me and make me feel like I’m separating from my body. It doesn’t often happen, but when it does, it’s an immersive, rewarding experience.

I had to stop listening to “Skuggflock,” the new record from Swedish black metal force Stilla, while I was at work or driving. There’s something about this record and its seven cuts that gets inside my head, makes it go numb, and transports me somewhere else. It’s always been that way for me with Stilla’s music, so they’ve always been a band in which I indulge when the time and mood are right. I’m planning on taking a trip soon during which I’ll have a lot of time to gaze into the beyond and repair my batteries, so “Skuggflock” seems like prime material to accompany me. But if I’m in the midst of doing something that demands my utmost attention, Stilla always get in the way of that, because my mind is diverted toward what they’ve created. That’s a good problem for me to have.

While only a band for the past five years, Stilla already have gifted us with three full-length efforts—2011 debut “Till stilla falla,” 2014’s immersive “Ensamhetens andar,” and now this new record. Combining the efforts of members of bands as varied and impressive as Bergraven (I know you three are doing nice things here, but new album, please!), Infernal Hellfire, Whirling, De Arma, and more, this band pools together what they’ve created elsewhere and pours it into this otherworldly puzzle. Here, we have A. Petterson on vocals, P. Stille on guitars, keyboards, and vocals, A. Vidhall on bass, and J. Marklund on drums, and they create a visceral, at times terrifying soundscape that is filled with atmosphere and chaos with a sense of prog-infused adventure that claims you for the entire ride.

The record opens with “Irrfärd,” a quick introductory piece built on cold guitars and melodies, raspy howls, and a mid-air boil that leads into “Vårens sista önskan” and its speedy assault. Melodies wrap around you while the gruff growls and raucous tempo do ample bruising. Synth stretches over top, with an orchestral sense blending into the song, and from there it heads into a dreamy, folkish territory. It’s not long before the band is trudging again, with the final moments amping up the drama. The title track is mystical and otherworldly at its start before it blows open and gets ugly and mangling. The song has some really catchy moments, as icy acoustics enter the fray, and the furious growls meet up with disorienting clean singing. From there, the track rips open again, as riffs rain down to bring a smothering end. “Till den som skall komma” opens with bloodrushing guitars and mountainous wails running head first into slurring melodies that bring the song to a sludgy pace. The storm returns, naturally, with organs pumping, drums putting holes in the floor, and a muddy, crushing finish.

“I tystnad vilar själen” takes a different bend, with a post-punk style to the music, and smooth singing driving the way. Later the track gets more aggressive, with the guitars slamming the gas pedal and burning hard, while the muck rears its head again and brings about a doomy aura. Chant-like vocals meet up with the steam, with the track blasting to a finish. “Av maran riden” has a grim, proggy first few moments, getting the emotions running in a different manner, with the scathing, eerie attack coming not far behind. The bass bends around corners, while the vocals lash out, splashes of cold push into the madness, and the guitars spiral into the cosmos. “Ett inre helvete – ett yttre helvete” closes the record with a calculated pace to start before more threatening elements unfold. The vocals push in as dramatic yells, with the guitar work mesmerizing and numbing your brain before an Opeth-like transition pops up. From there, warbled singing, a thick murk, and a serene melody capture you and return you back to your normal plane of existence.

Stilla remain one of black metal’s most mystifying, inventive bands, and “Skuggflock” is another mesmerizing chapter in their already impressive run together. This music deserves and demands to be digested as a whole, with no other distractions in the room, and you giving yourself to their mission, at least until the record runs out. It’s prime music for unfurling your mind and giving into whatever dimensions of existence are beyond your earthly reach.

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

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

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

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

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

Every band has a story behind it, from how it formed, to the way the members gelled their respective talents together, to the meanings behind what they created in the first place. Sure, not every listener may care about what went into the bands they listen to, but those paths are as vital as the music itself.

For newly birthed traditional doom squadron Wretch, their formation was the result of tragedy and picking up the pieces that were left behind. You may know Karl Simon better from his days with gargantuan crunchers Gates of Slumber, a band as responsible as any modern-day act for bringing traditional roots back to the music. They had a strong run for about a decade and a half, releasing their final record “The Wretch” back in 2011. Since that time, tumult came home to roost, and the death of Simon’s longtime friend and partner in Gates of Slumber Jason McCash brought that group to its end. Surely it could have been easy for Simon to chalk up all of his past accomplishments and move onto other things in his life, but his heart lies where it does. Thus his musical rebirth as the vocalist/guitarist for Wretch, a band that does GoS’s legacy, and metal in general, a lot of good.

Any Gates of Slumber fan likely will fall right into place with what’s offered on the band’s seven-track, self-titled debut album. The only notable difference is there is less emphasis on fantasy elements and more delving into the horrors of the real world. The snarling doom of decades past remains, bolstered by Simon’s bellowing voice and smothering guitar playing, and anyone with a thirst for Black Sabbath, Saint Vitus, Cirith Ungol, Trouble, and bands of that ilk will find plenty to love on this record. Along with Simon in this band are bassist Bryce Clark and drummer Chris Gordon (who played with Gates of Slumber in the past), and this power trio mauls your senses over and over again, but also treats you with swaggering, bluesy doom that, when in the right hands, can be the finest form of heavy metal there is. These guys do it just right, which is clear from the get go on this album.

“Running Out of Days” kicks off the record with charged-up guitars, meaty riffs, and the band wasting no time to get rolling. Simon’s singing, as good as any in the doom category, start delivering welts, while the soloing rips out, sounding a lot like a 1980s “Headbangers Ball” staple. “Rest in Peace” has a smoky start, with Simon bellowing, “Set me free!” The verses are strong and contain plenty of sustenance, while the riffs deliver energy that sticks to your ribs, and the rhythm section makes your inner core rumble heavily. On the back end, a psychedelic haze rises up in which the song gets swallowed, and then it’s into instrumental cut “Bloodfinger,” which has a different vibe altogether. The track simmers at a middle pace, with this sounding like something mined from the middle of the 1990s, when the world was begging for something like this. The song ends in a fuzzy cloud, and then it bleeds into a cover of Judas Priest’s “Winter” from their “Rocka Rolla” album, a nice surprise and a track Wretch naturally covers with bluesy aplomb and crawling might.

Wretch keep us in the deep freeze with their own “Icebound,” a song built on buzzing riffs and a tempo hell bent to barrel into you. The guitar playing is tripped out, making your head go numb, while the strong verses and pace changes keep your blood flowing and you continually engaged. Later on, the band hits a speedy shuffle, crushing and powdering bones, and the soloing cuts through the center of everything, with pure Sabbath charm. The final moments bring the pace down, drubbing you senseless as the track bleeds away. “Grey Cast Mourning” is an instrumental with a very fitting title as it sounds exactly how it’s named. Solemn guitars and psyche-rich melodies drape over the thing, ending in a rainy mood. Closer “Drown” is bluesy as fuck when it starts, with the singing sounding waterlogged, as if you’re submerged and hearing these lines with full ears. “Waves that pull me under, I’m going to drown,” Simon laments, as fiery, warm guitars create a beacon of light, and the driving pace disappears under the black waves forever.

It’s great that Simon remains standing, fighting the good fight despite what’s been dealt to him in the past. He is one of doom’s mightiest warriors, and he and his new mates are the flexing muscle of that style of metal over these seven songs. The gates may be closed on Simon’s old band, but this new, fiery Wretch sounds like it’s ready to take over that mission and blaze it right into the future as slowly and brutally as they possibly can.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Wretch-469537983166326/

To buy the album, go here: https://bad-omen.backstreetmerch.com/

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

Metal is many things to many people, and it all depends on your frame of mind and personal journey to determine its impact in your life. It could be a way of feeling more powerful or energized, simply by riding the force of riffs. It might be that it’s something that gets you in touch with your darker side as you delve into fury and madness of the music. It also can be a means of catharsis.

For others, it can be a place of healing, a way of working through some of the toughest, most challenging days of your life when you feel like there’s very little on which to grasp your balance. For Nate Garrett, he found that very thing in his Spirit Adrift project, a source for which to pour his emotions, fears, and self into and to climb out of the hell in which he found himself. Garrett struggled with an addition to alcohol, nearly watching the problem consume his life, and his gift for music, and it took going through rehabilitation to find his way to the other side, and to Spirit Adrift. Now, with his life changing for the better and with so many creative ideas flowing through him, he crafted the project’s excellent debut EP “Behind – Beyond,” released earlier this year, and now the first full-length “Chained to Oblivion.” To say this is a triumph musically might sell short what it means to Garrett from a personal standpoint. But the fact that he’s thriving, and his music is pumping a different kind of blood into metal, is something to truly, fully celebrate.

Garrett first gained notoriety playing lead guitar for Take Over and Destroy (he announced his amicable departure from the band earlier this year) and even plays with Tucson-based death dealers Gatecreeper (full-length out on October on Relapse). But in Spirit Adrift, he seems to truly have found himself. Much of what you hear on “Chained to Oblivion” is situated in doom, but there also is a nice dose of old-school heavy metal. Also, Garrett eschews the common trappings of growls and shrieks, instead opting for his soulful, powerful singing voice. It’s another element that lets Spirit Adrift stand apart, and it helps Garrett infuse his message with even more emotion. Plus, he sings the fuck out of these songs, making his decision to go that route pay massive dividends. In another sign of growth for the band, Garrett also announced a full live lineup, as he’ll be joined by Jeff Owens on guitars and vocals, Christopher Croons on bass, and Marcus Bryant on drums.

“Psychic Tide” starts off the record with drums rumbling awake, a thick bassline cutting through the middle, and burly riffs making their way into the mix. Garrett’s powerful singing launches soon thereafter, wailing, “Close your eyes, try to believe what we’re doing is real,” with him building a nice verse-chorus structure that works really well. Soloing bleeds in, with leads going hot and cold, and the whole thing dissolves into militaristic drum beats and a total psyche out. “Marzanna” is doomy and rich from the start, with the pace plodding, and the playing trudging heavily. “Burning into winter, sanity in flames,” Garrett howls, with warm guitar work entering the fray, bringing a sorrowful glaze over top the thing, though seemingly warning that danger remains present. Rich melodies and rousing “ahhhh” calls carry the track to its final destination. “Force and Form” also pounds into the mud, with guitars spiraling and smoking, and the pace slipping into clean spots. “Friend, foe, stranger, questioning these forces, that’s all I’ve ever known,” Garrett calls, letting you swim through the potential layers of meaning in that line, with the cut coming to an abrupt end.

The 10:59-long title track initially floats in and then hangs in the air, with calming guitar lines boiling, and a sorrowful bloodletting unleashed. It’s tough not to get caught up in the tumult here and what Garrett is expressing, and just as you’re lulled into psychological paralysis, he ruptures you awake by unloading power. Strong soloing barrels through the song, as Garrett notes, “We have bled a river, drained ourselves together,” a line that very well could be directed right back at himself. The remainder goes through doomy terrain, lifts itself into dreamy, gazey skies, and rushes out on an emotional high note. The 11:09 closer “Hum of Our Existence” begins with tribal-style drumming, with psyche-rich guitar spilling into the scene, and a trippy aura unfurling itself. The song punches things out in a calculated manner, with Garrett wondering, “How many times can one thing die?” something I’m sure those of us with our own struggles have asked ourselves many times. As the track goes on, the menace lands, smothering and charging, setting the pace for the final explosion, with Garrett howling in defiance, “The raging storm before the dawn of man won’t ruin us again,” as the track burns away.

We’re thrilled that Garrett came out of his dark nightmare healthier and stronger, and Spirit Adrift seems to have him soaring through the metallic stratosphere. “Chained to Oblivion” is a powerful statement both musically and emotionally, and the songs burst into the room and capture you. Garrett used these songs and this band to move through his problems and prove he has far more to offer the world. If it can inspire one other person to do the same, that would make this a far greater statement than it just being a fantastic heavy metal album.

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

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

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