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/

Every faith has its bizarre rituals that, if they arrived today, at this very moment, we’d write these people off as insane. Like, hey, I grew up Catholic, and we believe in actually devouring the flesh and blood of Jesus. That’s not weird? That’s not something that if, say, the Scientologists enacted today, most people wouldn’t be running to the social media machine to mock them?

With that in mind, one of the strangest and most dangerous rituals of modern times comes from our Pentecostal friends, who have embraced snake handling as a part of their faith. The practice isn’t widespread by any means, but for those congregations that observe it, these actions are seen as sacred and another step toward being that much closer to God (it is derived from myriad Biblical passages digested literally). Being that this practice hits close to home (regionally speaking) for Twilight Fauna’s Paul Ravenwood, he decided to make his entire new album “Fire of the Spirit” about the snake-handling ritual. He is quick to point out that he isn’t aligned with their faith, but this record isn’t done in criticism or mockery of their practice. In fact, there’s a level of respect in Ravenwood’s approach, examining what faith means to a person, no matter what that is, and investing yourself so deeply into something that you’re willing to risk death to express what you feel.

This also is one of Ravenwood’s strangest, sootiest releases to date under the Twilight Fauna banner. Yes, the melding of coal-smeared black metal and rustic-flavored folk remains, but the insertion of clips from services and believers, and the way the music is both emotional and marred by sound easily can impact your psyche. Ravenwood always has reached from his Appalachian Mountains surroundings for inspiration, and this time, he has honed in on one of the most dangerous and bafflingly weird (at least to outsiders) practices in any of the Christian faiths, which does make for some great subject matter for a metal record. We’re pretty wrapped up in serpent imagery, are we not?

“Walking With the Ghost” opens the record, the sixth Twilight Fauna full-length, as chatter from a congregation spills over, and acoustic fires are lit up, with whispers sliding underneath the melodies. Clean guitars join the mix, with the body of the song hypnotizing, and ghosts floating over the top. Harshness then arrives, with the growls buried in the dirt, as the cut hisses its last and fades away. “A Green Moth in the Mist” has guitars striking and flooding the scene with power, while hushed growls push through the wall of sound. Noise rises up and smears, with a static wall dragged before things turn grim. The fury spirals and surrounds you, with the music trickling away. “Laying out the Fleece” lets acoustics ring out, while more professions of faith arrive, and a bluegrass-style aura opens itself and brings you further into the picture. The track then bubbles up and flows, spreading serenity but also a weird sense of foreboding doom.

“Anointing Oil” has a woman talking about dying, while acoustics lift up the atmosphere, and chant-like singing emerges. Electric drone pulses take over, while melodies churn and scar, and the guitars that catch fire scrape away. Clean singing arrives on the back of softer guitars, leading the way into “Tongues of Knowledge.” There, a woman professes her faith, sounding like a true devotee, while the guitars drip black metal tar that coats the floor. The sounds wash over you, while the growls lurk beneath the din, and once the dark clouds finally begin the subside, quiet guitars chime away and hint at calm settles before the ugliness re-emerges and growls mar the surface. Closer “A Glass Dalia” opens with lonesome harmonica and acoustic guitars assuming the lead. Hushed singing is accompanied by the sounds of a preacher in the midst, with rattling and hissing noises make their mark (quite appropriately, might I add), and a Western psyche ambiance takes over and lets the song drain into the Earth.

Twilight Fauna’s catalog is one that truly stands by itself among the black metal community. Yes, Ravenwood uses common elements employed by many other artists, but he turns inward and exposes himself and the world he has grown to know as his primary inspirations. “Fire of the Spirit” is another journey into a world that may be foreign to many, and a practice that can send chills down your spine.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://fragilebranch.com/products/17404655-twilight-fauna-fire-of-the-spirit-lp

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

“I believe that history is a listing of atrocities and horror, not because we are evil, but because history itself is a kind of performance.” Those words are uttered by Kitap rol Keshmat, reluctant priest of the spider goddess in “The Dagger and the Coin” book series’ finale “The Spider’s War.” At this point, everyone in the series had been choked by war in Daniel Abraham’s tales, with humanity teetering on the edge of chaos if a sure-to-fail, haphazard plan can’t be enacted to stop those who would shed blood for power.

You don’t need to read the series to relate to the quote (though you read should read it immediately), as war has been a part of our DNA pretty much since the start. It’s only that we’ve pressed the gas pedal on escalation and have deadlier means of massacre than ever before. It was weird that I happened to read Kit’s line the same day I immersed myself in Feral Light’s debut EP “A Sound of Moving Shields” the very same day. Over these five songs, the band focuses on the subject of human annihilation during war, people being at the boot steps of militarism with no way of them being able to submit, and absolute corruption. It’s a stain on our history as people, and it’s one from which we never seem to learn.

The lyrical heaviness melds nicely with Feral Light’s metallic savagery, served on a bloody bed of black metal with a twist of melodic jolt added for good measure. The members of this band bring with them impressive resumes built with bands such as Wolvhammer, Embalm, Empires, Incarnate Deity and plenty others, and their crushing force is on full display over this effort. Comprised of vocalist Jeff Scheuermann, guitarist/bassist Andy Schoengrund, and drummer Andrew Reesen, the band splatters horrors over this 31-minute effort (nearly full-length territory!) that is being released in limited cassette by Sentient Ruin Laboratories, who consistently do an excellent job scouring the underground for fresh blood to release to their followers. This is another astute singing.

“Mercenary” has a grim opening, with blasts hammering forward, and morbidly catchy melodies colliding with creaky growls. The tempo manages to get nastier, with blackened vocals, massive thrashing, and swaggering riffs smearing, with guitars and howls racing toward the gates. “Hell By Compass” has a humid opening, storming ahead with gruff growls battering you. Later, the black fury erupts, with the tempo punching hard and chunky chorus adding to the bruising. The guitars blend in black metal menace, feeling like threatening thunder and lightning is on the horizon about to strike you into oblivion. “Baptized in Shellfire” has raw growls and a punishing assault, blasting everything apart and pushing the track into the smudge. A roll-n-roll-flavored battery machine unloads with power, with the riffs taking on a slight High on Fire aura, and the warfront charging over everything. “In Glorious Battle Slain” could not have been better named, with guitars stampeding, the war tale bursting through everything in its wake, and wails of, “Heroes and champions!” giving your chest some final bruising. Closer “Ultima Ration Regum” unloads right away, with the guitars slathering and the pace ripping up bones and flesh. There is melody infused into fire, with the growls scathing and your senses utterly bashed. There’s no room for calm or serenity, as the band lays waste and brings the song to a cataclysmic finish.

War is hell and, it seems, inevitable. The longer our existence lasts, the more humanity’s body count ticks upward, a fact that Feral Light bring to focus on “A Sound of Moving Shields.” Warnings never are heeded and blood continually shed, and at what cost? That we have bands such as Feral Light to poke at that wound is good for awareness, but at what point do we duck and cover ourselves for impact, our lives and those around us simply chalked up as another chess piece on the road to domination.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://sentientruin.com/releases/feral-light-a-sound-of-moving-shields

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

To the chagrin of a lot of “purists,” metal is a genre that can be stretched far and wide. It doesn’t have to sound any particular way, anyone can play it as long as they’re powerful enough, and the many new shades thrown into it has made this style even more enriching. I love brutal and mangling as much as the next person, but blasting off into new terrain can be just as enthralling.

That verbiage leads us into the coverage of a new record from Horseback called “Dead Ringers.” Long the project of Chapel Hill, N.C., musician Jenks Miller, we’ve witnessed Horseback go in all sorts of directions, mostly of the mysterious and ashy black metal way. But as time has gone on and Miller has immersed himself into different styles of music, Horseback has developed along with him. “Dead Ringers” is his most diverse, expansive collection ever, and it’s the furthest away from what most would consider pure heavy metal. But no matter because it’s a mesmerizing, hypnotic effort that claims you and twists you through this entire ride. It’s eight tracks of deep psychedelics, doom, and Miller’s most direct vocals ever, eschewing the low rumbling growl for actual singing that brings a new dimension into this band’s world. It’s different, but it’s quite interesting.

Over the years, Miller has helmed Horseback on his own and with other collaborators, twisted it to his psyche, and made it into one of metal’s more intriguing projects. Miller also plays guitar in traditional country band Mount Moriah (heavily recommended, if you’re not familiar), and some of his work there seems to bleed into moments of “Dead Ringers.” That’s a welcome addition, as it lends more texture and emotion to the music, and also hints at Miller’s own creative evolution. This record might take even the more hardcore Horseback fans a little time to fully digest, but once you do, you might find yourself returning again and again to take this intoxicating, mentally altering experience.

The record begins with “Modern Pull,” where weird keys assemble, guitars hum, and a psychedelic whir barrels into the mix. “The pleasure dome is waiting,” Miller sings ominously, while the guitars take on a Southern feel (remember when I mentioned Mount Moriah?), and synth and noise zap this closed. “Shape of the One Thing” has keys echoing and a trippy, sunburnt sense, where it feels like your head is starting to spin. The singing is strange here, with synth blurting, and Miller later poking, “We’ll keep repeating, it’s only for you,” with a twinge of Roger Waters edge to his delivery. “A Bolt From Blue” starts amid chimes, with the path going right through a dusty trail and the keys sounding like sirens. Surfy guitars bubble up, with the singing rolling gently, and the pace seeming unsettlingly strange. “The Cord Itself” packs spacey synth passages, static beats, and guitars stretching. A sorrowful organ lathers with tears, while guitars fire up, and a dialog that reminds of an Apocalyptic preacher snaps your attention and pulls you into the song’s closing sound bath.

“Lion Killer” lets keys smear, as a rhythmic pace drives right into a thick drone. “Fooled again,” Miller strikes, while the guitars punch back and swing into echoes, and the track later fades into a mysterious weirdness. “In and Out of Form” has guitars chugging, with Miller charging, “I change, but you don’t notice.” Well, musically, how could we not notice? Anyhow, the singing is smooth, interrupted here and there by hoots, and the song spends its time building a wall of intensity, bubbling up, spilling over, and letting guitars jab and sounds swell right to its finish. “Larkspur” is a really odd one amid a collection of strange cuts, with keys swirling the Milky Way, guitars taking on jittery and sometimes Bluegrass-fed melodies, and Miller talking away, almost as if he’s in the midst of a medicine-induced dream. Then the 16:40-long finale “Descended From the Crown” arrives, with unsettling noises, hippie-style guitar patterns, and a slew of racket situated behind everything. In the middle of all of this, the singing becomes a part of the puzzle, as beats kick up and then fade, weird jolts slice your flesh, and mind-erasing fog settles over everything. Guitars babble on like a fresh stream on its way to a new destination, and hazy soundwaves breeze into the final moments, where everything dissolves in a mid-air crash.

It sounds like a cliché to say this, but there’s no telling where Miller will take Horseback next, and that’s one of the reasons it’s so much fun to follow this project. “Dead Ringers” is a total excursion into deep space, with your brain submitting to whatever forces are spinning it and you enjoying every moment. It’s the biggest sudden curve of this band’s storied run and one that just might reshape the future of Horseback’s creativity.

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

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

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

Photo by M. Garcia

For a lot of people, getting up each day, eating breakfast, going to work, and muscling through another 24 hours is a given. For others, it’s a struggle as mighty as anything else they’ve ever faced. There are plenty of reasons putting one foot in front of the other is so difficult, and tucking oneself into the bed at the end of a day to face more can be something of a victory.

Why we choose to carry on despite a mountain of negative forces pushing against us is something each person answers with his or her own reasoning. For example, despite last week’s RNC delusion circus, a lot of us chose to move forward and not write off the rest of the country based on some folks’ warped brains. Not sure if I’ve beaten that dig into the ground yet. That’s merely one scenario in a sea of them, and the basis of survival is the center point of Mizmor’s stunning second full-length effort “Yodh.” Over the course of five mammoth tracks and an hour-long running time, Mizmor (more formally known under the Hebrew spelling מזמור) mastermind A.L.N. packs black metal, noise, doom, and drone into a package that is dense, scary, emotional, and gripping from beginning to end. Sitting with this thing for the entire run time is a challenge, so be warned. It’s a lot to take on, and it’s a gut punch over and over again, but doing so is the best way to digest this thing. Then give yourself time to come down when it’s done.

A.L.N. started his Mizmor (Hebrew for “psalm”) project several years back, launching a self-titled debut record in 2012 and following that with smaller releases, including a 2013 EP and split releases with Hell, with whom A.L.N. performs as a live member, and one with Dross. But “Yodh” is this project’s most massive and ambitious release so far, a record that feels like it is constructed with the weight of a planet and forces you to address the matters of what pushes you to survive. What carries you day through day, no matter how bleak life is around you or how poisonous the nature of society has become. Even if you’re simply taking this on as a piece of music and don’t tend to dwell on the emotional issues attached, you’re still setting yourself up to take a massive pounding all over your body and soul.

“Woe Regains My Substance” is the 13:38 opener that balances on noise fields and doomy guitar work, before shrieks and growls tear their way in and pour on the psychosis. The pace crushes slowly but mercilessly, with the vocals gurgling and a torturous heat being unleashed. Sounds spit while guitars churn, with the body of the track seeming to hang in the air before another violent outburst. The song starts a new charge, while the vocals lacerate the skin, fury and destruction arrive, and everything ends in a haze. “A Semblance Waning” sweeps in on acoustics, with cold guitars sending shivers and feedback wailing. A.L.N.’s voice echoes, meeting up with doomy pounding and a noise vortex that feels like it’s pulling every molecule into its grasp. Power bursts from the sides of that, while the pace starts to gallop, animalistic cries are unleashed, and pain and sorrow are smeared all over the walls, a sign that all might not be right. From there, the tempo slows, letting everything dissolve into pure agony. “The Serpent Eats Its Tail” is the longest cut at 14:40, and it drips chilling mist into your face, feeling like the birth of the first cold Autumn day, as it pours on solemn punishment. The growls destroy everything in its wake, while the guitars take on Sabbathy tones, with thorny playing drawing blood and a thick blanket of sludge pulled over everything. The growls stretch, while the sense of pain and suffering never is more tangible, and the chaos eventually dissolves into the fog.

“Inertia, an Ill Compeller” erupts right off the bat, with guitars burning, the growls scraping at the crust of the earth, and the pace melting away. The vocals find a new level of ferocity, while the doom storm smothers, the guitars begin to swagger, and another passage that feels inspired by Iommi’s fingers push the track right into the babbling acid bath. Terror and deep emotion combine for a black tidal wave, while the back end of the song disappears in exhaust. Closer “Bask in the Lingering” rumbles out of its cave, with cloudy guitars marring the vision ahead, and the song starting to stomp holes. Black metal-rich melodies drizzle tar over the landscape, while unsettling, scathing roars increase the horror level, mixing into a scorching pace that kicks up and drives this piece into a cosmic noise black hole.

Mizmor’s journey has been catastrophic in nature and strives to find greater understanding with the forces that impact our lives and world, and that’s heavily apparent on “Yodh.” A.L.N. obviously wrung his heart dry examining himself inside and out, seeking his own reasoning for what’s led him to where he is and sharing that energy and chaos on these five tracks. This is a record that will quake you and smash you to your core, and it might even help you understand your own mission better and what pours you in from one day to the next, ready to prevail over what ails you.

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

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

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

Most people generally don’t think of spirituality when it comes to heavy metal, and that’s with good reason. Just about all Christian bands are not very good at all (Stryper is the lone great one, and don’t you fucking argue with me), and much of the orthodox metal for the dark side often is well shrouded and wouldn’t seem very explicit to someone not in the know.

But you have your exceptions, such as with Canadian black metal destroyers A.M.S.G., who have returned with their punishing second record “Hostis Universi Generis,” about to land like a fireball from Profound Lore Records (they also brought you their 2013 full-length debut “Anti-Cosmic Tyranny”). This band and this album immerse themselves in absolute darkness and worship of death, and they do so in a bizarre and twisted way that could chill your cells. The band’s name stands for Ad Majorem Satanae Gloriam (For the Greater Glory of Satan), so they’re not just putting up scary imagery and selling you records based on a marketing scheme. It does go beyond this, as the band seeks to achieve higher levels of consciousness and revels in cosmic power, but it all blends together very well. This band lives this way, and the more you read about the groups and scan interviews with leader Angelfukk Witchhammer, they don’t sound like people you necessarily want to hang out with. And I’m pretty sure they’d have it no other way.

As for the forces behind A.M.S.G.’s music, we’ve already mentioned Witchhammer, also known under his given name Ryan Page, the driving force behind this band and also a member of Gloria Diaboli and formerly with Ouroboros. Along with him are guitarist F. Andramelech and drummer Bzath (also a member of Insidious Omen), and their work on “Hostis Universi Generis” is bone-crunching and utterly terrifying. You go through a tunnel of hellishness that will make you feel dizzy, disoriented, and possibly accessing portals in your mind you weren’t aware of before. If you’re just here to absorb the music and not the spiritual elements, you’ll still have your flesh and organs grinded by the sheer power of it all and likely will be horrified like never before.

“The Exodus of All Life” is the bruising 9:33 opener that starts with whispers swirling amid clean guitars before the tempo pounces. Melodies dizzy as infernal growls tear away, while later, bizarre passages smear soot, and gurgly voices bubble to the surface. Fluid, classic metal guitar leads are launched, with pace twisting and warping, and the song ending in chaos. “Baptized in the Blood of Galaxies” has a Middle Eastern-style vibe at the start, giving off an entrancing feel, but then the song detonates. Speed arrives and maims, but then you’re jerked back into a slower tempo that remains ungodly heavy. Doom bells strike, as the ambiance turns liturgical, and a cascade of death emerges, dropping bloody hammers and alien-like growls. Cosmic saxophones settle in and create stardust before the song re-ignites and blasts toward its end. “Broken Chains of Cursed Flesh” opens in serenity, with acoustic guitars breathing fresh air. Then the monstrous fire erupts, with whispery passages haunting, a storm of sound creating a buzzing effect, and detached speaking causing your head to spin. The back end is a little proggy in spots, with the howl of, “To become one with death!” striking your soul.

The strange “Divine.Madness.Transcends” follows, feeling like something out of the strangest fever dream you’ve ever had. The soundscape stretches through most of the song, with a brief break toward the end for madness, but the bulk finds Witchhammer warbling and chanting. As per the label, the song itself is inspired by occult teachings, as well as visions the band members have had during meditation rituals, enhanced by the use of hallucinogens. So you’re going to hear some weird shit here that might freak you out, but the content is based strictly in the occult. It’s sure to leave you utterly disoriented. “The Perpetual Dance of Existence and Demise” sprawls over 11 crushing minutes, and when it opens, noise envelops, voices creak, and some damn stellar guitar work lashes out, again making me think back to the glory days of the genre. The growls are grim and clash with spiraling guitars, and space sounds mar the senses while the tempo chugs. Strange moans sicken, while the playing turns humid, winds woosh through, and the song ends in charred melodies. Closer “Astral Projections of Lucifer” sits in a bed of sound, with clean, spacious guitars flooding, keys hypnotizing, and sax crashing through the boundaries. A long stretch of the song is stimulating and really feels like it’s pulling you to another plane, with the pace exploding again later on, deranged wails clawing at your skin, and savage scraping disappearing into an acoustic storm. You’ll probably need a few deep breaths and a wall to keep you steady when this is over.

This is hellish art, music that is about something and for something and in adulation of forces the band members deem far greater than they are. For those who think Satanic heavy metal is all about covers with pentagrams and upside crosses, you have no ideas the danger you’re about to encounter. “Hostis Universi Generis” is one of the most mangling and bizarre metal albums of the year, with A.M.S.G. out front battling to crush the hearts of all humanity.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/AMSG-Ad-Majorem-Satanae-Gloriam-110719362296013/

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

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

It was just yesterday that we paid homage to a band taking a steady path, always staying within their world and rarely branching beyond. Today, we have the exact opposite of that. Instead, we’re looking at new work from a band that always is shedding its skin, trying on new colors, and doing whatever pleases them and drives their vision.

Over the past 12 years, Caïna have remained steady in that you never could anticipate where they’ll go next. There’s almost no sense buckling yourself in for the ride, because that would make it feel much less dangerous and provoking. To boot, just last year the band delivered its bleak black metal Armageddon tale “Setter of Unseen Snares,” one of our 40 favorite releases of the year and one that touches upon the terrifying possibility an asteroid could come hurtling toward us with no chance to thwart its crash. Fuck, would we even want to do that anyway, considering how things are going? Anyway, now comes “Christ Clad in White Phosphorous,” an 11-track, 53-minute album that could not possibly be more opposite of its predecessor. It’s like being inside the brain of someone who can take no more and whose circuits are melting down, as a strange variety of sounds assault you, not to mention the unhinged vocals that make this all the more terrifying. It’s a record that could offend and upset some people, because that’s how people are, but it’s exciting and agitating in the best possible way.

Caïna long has been a project driven forward by Andy Curtis-Brignell, one of metal’s true visionaries and someone who disrupts the status quo wonderfully on social media, calling out the bullshit and hypocrisy reigning throughout metal’s ranks. Along with him are vocalist Laurence Taylor, bassist Paul Robertson, and guests Dwid Hellion of the legendary band Integrity, as well as members of London experimental improv music smashers Warren Schoenbright. The result of all of this is a frantic, destructive force that feels like picking up the pieces after a catastrophic disaster, or one that has the members communicating from a different plane of existence. It’s an album that took me a few turns to truly digest, and even now when I hear it, I still uncover new things and understand the piece differently.

“Oildrenched and Geartorn” opens the record amid a pit of weird shuffling, buzzers going off, coughing and hacking in the background, and industrial madness that then leads into “Torture Geometry” that unloads penetrating noise and sound swirls. Wild growls wreck into that insanity, as a dizzying pace and thick grimness suddenly crash land. “Fumes of God” gives off industrial steam, as riffs steamroll heavily, and growls go right for the intestines. Sorrowful keys bubble up and bring a black shroud over everything, while the vocals keep wrenching, and the thrashing pace is halted, with the piece fading out in synth shimmer. “The Throat of the World” has strings being plucked, noise wrenching into ambiance, and a sense of complete anguish unleashed. Crazed howls strike over top the soundscape, with the bulk of this generating panic-inducing horror. “Gazing on the Quantum Megalith” has industrial-fed riffs, harsh growls, and some black metal-splattered melodies that hint back to “Setter” just a bit. The guitars chug and stab, the vocals bruise, and a sense of menace crushes you. The pace slows and mashes, while violent cries carry to the end. “God’s Tongue as an Ashtray” is foggy at first, but then black metal bloodshed rears its heads, only to be consumed by slow-driving doom fury. Speaking goes along with the growls, but then speedy guitars take over and rush to the finish line.

“Entartete Kete” has blinding speed, with guitars striking, chaos breathing fury, and complete agitation launched. Strange, warbling singing is drizzled over top, giving it a weird feel, and raucous, yet melodic, mud clogs veins and leads to the song’s ending violent outburst. “Pillars of Salt,” featuring aforementioned Warren Schoenbright, is an unsettling one, with noise fluttering, church bells striking, and drums going off, setting its rhythms into a cacophony of confusion. A trip hop-style section turns heads, while horns squeak, the pace spews start-stop trudging, and noise sheets carry you into the night. “The Promise of Youth” has huge black metal-style riffs, with fire-breathing vocals, a sense of desperation bringing anxiety, and a goth-style path being carved. The guitars dominate once again, pulling the track back into the hell in which it formed. “Extraordinary Grace” is a 12:20 nightmare that takes its time spreading its reach, with strange synth, detached speaking, and things feeling like an electric haze dream. That’s a thing, right? This transmission lurches over the entire run time, feeling absolutely horrifying and chilling. The closing title track is the strangest of the bunch, at least compared to what preceded it. Blippy synth and post-punk darkness flow hard, especially with the singing, and warm guitars stretch over the song, with the warning, “We all burn!” bringing on the album’s exclamation point driven home like a knife.

Caïna always seems like a band teetering on destruction, a union always a little too tuned into how fucked up the face of the Earth truly is. I always get that Caïna sense we’re closer to our own destruction than anyone else realizes, and that sentiment is smeared all over “Christ Clad in White Phosphorous.” As long as we’re all too happy to destroy ourselves, this band always will find inspiration, but you can feel from the bleak terror that even they are growing perversely angrier by the minute, and they’re all too happy to take out that frustration on the rest of the world.

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

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

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

There’s something to be said about a band that can take a long road and never veer from the path, no matter what temptations are out there. Even more can be said about a band that does that but also manages to keep their craft interesting and stimulating to their audience. People are fickle fucks these days, and if you can prevent them from getting bored, you’re onto something.

Chicago instrumental force Russian Circles happen to be one of those bands. You generally know what you can expect with their releases, and despite that, it’s still easy to walk away excited having digested another chapter in their story. Same goes for “Guidance,” the sixth record from the band and one that takes its inspiration from a pretty unlikely source. The spouse of one of the band members was given an envelope of photos depicting a man being led to his execution. No story or historical anecdotes were provided. Just the photos and the messages they took from the man’s face, unbowed even being led to his demise. That’s apropos for the band’s music. Telling stories sans words has been their way all along, yet you always can get caught up in the emotion of their music without a plotline being fed.

Russian Circles have been doing their thing for 12 years now, slipping nicely between the bombast of MONO and the metallic crunch of Pelican but offering their own fingerprints on heavy rock’s instrumental terrain. The group is comprised of guitarist Mike Sullivan, bassist Brian Cook, and drummer Dave Turncrantz, and they’ve established themselves as one of the most passionate and reliable bands in the entire instrumental realm and beyond. “Guidance” is another steady step in their journey, a record that bears the artwork of that photo packet that came into the band’s possession, trying to paint a portrait of strength and dignity even in the face of hell.

“Asa” starts the record with noise wafting then guitars trickling into the space, giving off a gentle feel. Melodies slither into the picture, only to be swallowed by fog, and it seems as if a waiting storm is off in the distance, threatening to land but taking its time doing so. That spills into “Vorel,” where noise agitates, drumming bursts the bubble, and things start to light up. Burly doom riffs take over, as melodies slip in and out of the mix, and sludge terrain is stomped. The bass thickens up while riffs cut in, and the playing swells up, scorching and giving off smoke, heading right into “Mota.” There, guitars spark, reflective playing rolls in, and a pulsating, atmospheric sentiment settles. Later, things toughen up, with doom riffs clobbering, darkness draping its curtain, and the track ripping into the night, only to be resurrected by synth dreaminess. That leads right toward “Afrika,” where the keys continue to waft and a heartfelt melody sweeps up. Drums kicks into the gazey matter, while cosmic keys send rays, riffs chew up the scene, and all of the elements cascade, sending the song off into an unexpected calm.

“Overboard” lets keys hover, and serene guitars emerge like a mist coating your face. Much of the song makes me think of a sunrise, watching colors explode on the horizon as a new set of possibilities arrives. The guitars work forms tributaries into which everything flows, stinging the senses and heading into a greater body of water. “Calla” is the piledriver of the record, starting with guitars gouging away and punishment being delivered in spades. The track is scathing and threatening, setting fire to everything and crushing all that stands in front of it. Savage sludge slips into calm for a split second, a tease in the midst of turmoil, and then it’s on to an ending that’s heavy with decimation. Closer “Lisboa” brings things back to Earth with a numbing, echo-rich start that later gets blown to bits. The cut is chock full of emotional bloodletting, gazey fire, and tempo shifts that coax the heart, and one final explosion lands before the song sinks back into the Earth’s crust.

Russian Circles may not take bizarre twists and turns, and they’re probably never going to turn in a symphonic black metal-based record nor drown in, like, EDM just to make waves. And really, who could ask for more from this band? They’ve been a rock-solid group through their entire run, and “Guidance” is more of the good stuff from a force you always can lean against.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.hellomerch.com/collections/sargent-house

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

I try to make plans when I can when it comes to this site. Since we don’t review every record that comes out each week (because that would kill me), a lot of planning goes into which records we pick to feature each week, and even more goes into what our pick of the week will be. This week was no exception, though as final preparation for the reviews you read that past few days approached, I quickly came to realize I had to scrap some of my plans.

The reason for that is late last week, when taking another listen to “Divination,” the great new record from Chicago-based black metal band Vukari, it quickly dawned on me that it was the best thing I was going to feature this week. This record slowly has grown on me and gotten into my bloodstream, and it was during a listen last week that I realized how much this record was affecting me. “Divination” is a concept album steeped in historical fiction based on a story centered on a patrician during Roman times who has a thirst for acquiring power. After he has dreams that seem to be speaking to him and reveal as powerful symbol that would drive his campaign, he begins to amass powerful followers. But as time goes on, reality and messages get distorted, and his followers ultimately are the ones who take the biggest fall. Oh shit, Donald Trump. Maybe Vukari are soothsayers. Kidding aside, it’s a gripping plot that the band pushes brilliantly on this eight-song, nearly 49-minute record.

Vukari only have been together as a band for the past three years, and they already have two full-length efforts to show for that time, the first being their 2013 debut “Matriarch.” In the meantime, Bindrune Recordings has gotten behind the band—vocalist/guitarist/keyboard player Marek Cimochowicz, new guitarist Richard Stancato, bassist/keyboardist Spenser Morris (Vit), drummer Mike DeStefano—and they’ve been rewarded for their investment with this excellent, rich new record. “Divination” is filled with black metal grimness, atmospheric melody, and bloody drama that is the result of their central storyline, which, as sort of hinted at, may be seeped in history but is just as relevant today.

The dual “Divination” tracks start the record, the first more of an introductory with guitars reverberating and weird noise gusts, and the second part tearing the lid off the thing. The cut erupts, with Cimochowicz’s growls pummeling you, and the whole thing is flushed with melody. The song hulks into atmospheric pockets, with the passage feeling both savage and sorrowful at times, and a furious finish taking the song out. “Cursus Honorum” picks up on the momentum and unleashes a tidal wave of melody (come to think of it, that’s a common theme of this record), grim growls, and hammering playing. The riffs get ominous, with every element cascading hard, and a cold wash of air that takes over flows into a furious final few minutes built by wrenching cries and a noise haze. “Invictus Maneo” has a post-metal-style opening, with grim growls clenching, meanness pushing its way in, and the guitars swimming in the shadows. Later, foreboding sounds hang in the air and sting mightily, with a cloud of energy hovering overhead.

The second half of the record begins with the paired “Ad Delirium” tracks, with the first part of it sweltering in noise, with guitars bubbling up and echoing. The second portion has a chilling, solemn start, with gentle playing letting calmness flow, taking on sort of an ISIS feel. Then, the most energetic, and passionate guitar riff of the entire record blasts out, and the growls grind against everything standing in front of it. The track continues to be utterly infectious, sweeping you up in gazey fury and enormous power, standing as the high point on this record. “Sovereignty Through Extreme Tyranny” blasts out and mixes into catchy punishment, while shrieked vocals lacerate the skin, and a furious storm front lands. Another atmospheric stretch arrives, with calm and chaotic doing battle, and a huge burst tearing out of the back end bleeding into serenity. Closer “Bathe in Divine Light” begins with clean, cold guitars, making it feel like you’ll be let down gently, but it’s short lived. Gargantuan howls cut through like a sword, while gazey guitar fire catches, and the inferno builds from there. The guitars spread out over the track, with the intensity building, the band trudging hard, and guttural roars disappearing with the rest of the song into a pool of searing reverb.

The more I hear “Divination,” the more I am excited about the music itself and Vukari in general. The plot of the album is sobering and a little terrifying when placed against modern times, and the music builds expertly from the tale’s seeds being planted to the cataclysmic ending. This is one of a handful of really great, eye-opening black metal albums that have come out this year, and it’s well worth your time to immerse yourself in this body, mind, and spirit. And you might even get a step ahead of so many other people by actually learning a little something from history.

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

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

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