We’re reaching the point in the year where I’m going to have to do a lot of driving in what likely is to be fairly bad weather conditions. I oddly enjoy that, though, because that means a lot of family visits over the holidays, but with all that mileage, having the right music to accompany me is a huge key.

My first visit with the new split LP combining Sea Witch and Black Tremor instantly made me think of those drives, and at the time of this writing, it’s snowing, and the music here has sounded great along with it as I’ve done some minimal travel. Both these bands are instrumental units and draw upon very different sections of heavy music. There’s enough similarities, though, to make their union make sense and these songs work together. Released by Sunmask Records, this five-track collection brings with it bruising power, chilling sentiment, and a blast of mind-enhancing songs that might be able to make your winter a little less harrowing. Or maybe more so? Depends on what you’re seeking, I guess.

Sea Witch hail from Nova Scotia and are a two-piece featuring JL on guitars and bass and SJ on drums, and they’ve only been making noise for two years now. But in that time, the band has produced a couple of demo recordings, as well as their self-titled full-length debut last year (it gets regular play on my Bandcamp app). Here, the band unleashes three tracks of dark, atmospheric doom that is heavy, thought-provoking, and even a little bit gazey. They’re definitely the heaviest of the two bands, making you think of being lost at night, at sea, with waves churning your belly and you imagining instant doom at a source you can’t identify.

Their share of the tracks starts with “Green Tide,” as sounds blend together, guitars crash, and the pace hulks along. The track trudges over gravel, as gazey sounds flood into the picture, and a strong burst of playing arrives. If you start feeling like your head is swelling, you’re not alone, as the song rolls through various colors before fading away. “As the Crow Flies (Part 1)” has an influx of sounds that pull into storming sludge and eventually a melodic glaze. The melody slithers through as the music wails and crumbles, and a sense of drubbing sorrow begins to take over and move things toward the second portion of “As the Crow Flies.” The crushing mauling is slow driving, pressing your face into the ground before all the elements cascade to the ground. Guitars cry out as sadness emerges, and from there, gloomy playing leaves a black pall, and guitars chew bones to the end.

As for Black Tremor, their music also pulls from a post-rock atmosphere, but it’s grittier and dustier, something you could take with you on a late-evening trip across the West. Fittingly, they hail from the Western portion of Canada, in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, (dumb fact: Bret Hart won his first WWF title in that town) and their music sounds like it’s a product of their surroundings. The band—bassist Alex Deighton, violin player Amanda Bestvater, and drummer Brennan Rutherford—released their debut record “Impending” last year, and their two songs here are parts of a dual tale they’re spreading out before us. Their music is riveting, moving, and ideal for when the moon breaks the horizon.

The Black Tremor cuts are two portions of a song called “Hexus.” The first basks in serenity as clean tones flow out, and the drums start to kick in. Things get a little jazzy as the strings surge and cut, and slide guitar starts its weeping. The melodies feel rustic and swollen, as an awesome, burly tone makes its way through the cut, and that thickness remains until the first part bleeds out. The second part has the violin mourning and a dusty path being tread. The strings then wrap themselves around rusty guitars, as the Western-rich atmosphere gets thicker, and the song begins to sludge along. The guitars ramp up and begin buzzing, as the violin flutters in the air, the band begins to bring down the hammer, and the hazy, sun-burnt trip comes to a sudden end.

This music is apropos for many occasions, not just snowy sojourns by some dork writer, and there is plenty of substantive moments offered by both bands. Sea Witch do things heavier and muddier, while Black Tremor feel like a chilling adventure through the desolate west. Both are excellent representatives of the healthy instrumental scene, and this split will go a long way toward sound tracking whatever trip you happen to be taking.

For more on Sea Witch, go here: https://www.facebook.com/seawitchband

For more on Black Tremor, go here: https://www.facebook.com/blacktremorband

To buy the album, go here: https://www.discogs.com/seller/sunmask/profile

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

It’s pretty easy for people to write off criminals or those who erupt in violence as bad seeds who contribute nothing to society and are only out to bring misery. That’s not necessarily untrue. But often there is so much more lying underneath the surface that leads people to evil actions that cannot go dismissed or swept under the rug.

Often, people simply want to put all the blame on the person, for they can choose right and wrong. Again, it’s natural to feel that way. But extenuating circumstances often play a giant role. NFL players have killed themselves, and the result for many is they suffered from brain damage and levels of CTE. They have no control over how they feel. Pro wrestler Chris Benoit murdered his entire family in cold blood, and later, examinations of his brain showed significant damage. That very well could have led to that horrible tragedy. And then there’s Charles Whitman, the infamous “Texas Tower Sniper,” who, after murdering his wife and mother, shot from the tower at University of Texas at Austin, killing 14 and wounding 32. Later it was discovered he had a tumor on his amygdala, the part of the brain that regulates emotions and can cause great impairment if damaged. All of this is the subject matter of “All Too Human,” the amazing new record from Oskoreien, the one-man project helmed by Jay Valena. It’s a four-part concept piece examining true will, inspired by Whitman’s story and what became of him.

We just visited with Oskoreien not long ago when we discussed this project’s great split with Botanist, but this record is the first full-length since the 2011 self-titled debut. Here, Valena plies his trade in noisy, sooty black metal, the kind that sounds like it was born out of psychological isolation, something that is quite apropos when discussing this record. The songs are packed with anguish and punishment, though not of the typical black metal stereotypes. There’s a true human depth to this music which is very tangible, and you walk away from this impacted, perhaps placing more thought on the evils in the world and what’s truly behind everything. Sometimes it’s just pure evil. But not always.

The record starts with “Moai” as guitars awaken and spread out, as the sound continues to build. Melodies pour as Valena’s shrieks are unleashed, feeling tortured and raw, as if they’re coming from a diseased gut. Anguish gushes all over this, as the wrenching vocals continue and deface the path, with guitars lapping over top of the chaos, melodies swirling and dive-bombing, and the whole thing burning off like an oil fire. “Green and Maroon” starts with guitars unleashing small doses of pain, followed by horrifying shrieks that should cause chills to blast up your spine. The music gnaws at your senses, in a similar way as Whitman’s brain was being compromised, and guitars and laser beam strikes rip through, letting darkness spill into the void. A slow, reflective passage unfurls itself before the cut bursts all over, sending wild wails and thick muck flying into your face.

“Ab Aeterno, Ad Infinitum” splashes dark, doomy colors, with the track echoing and haunting over its first few minutes. Once the song rips from the cracks, the vocals are ripe with strangulation, and a great stretch of lead guitar play sprawls impressively. That heads into a horrifying mud pit, filled with a thousand lost souls and their bones, and then a passage that feels like static-filled ISIS lands and delivers body blows. More spacious soloing arrives, which heads into furious chugging, and a solemn glow emerges from that and spreads until the end of the song. Closer “My Flesh Is But a Vessel” gets off to a bashing start, laying waste to any hint of calm and layering frantic cries over a slow-driving tempo. Things begin to hulk along, but then a solemn wind blows in and leads to the next bit of savagery. The playing turns into a series of gut punches, as the cymbals taking a smashing and noise hangs in the air. Soloing bubbles as deep folds of sorrow bring a final dark curtain down on this tragic, too-familiar story.

Valena is having an impressive year, what with his split recording and this excellent new album “All Too Human.” This music reminds us that stories, people, and tragedies are not always black and white, and while we kneejerk and point fingers, sometimes all the layers need to be pulled back first. This is a strong late-year record that should resonate well into 2017 and beyond.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://oskoreien.com/album/all-too-human

When it comes to conveying misery and darkness, we tend to lean toward heavier, nastier sounds in which to immerse ourselves. At least we do here on this site. But that’s not always the case, as sometimes a band can deal in more delicate sounds, yet still leave you a heaving, inconsolable mess once their records come to an end.

That’s definitely the case with Bay Area-based trio Worm Ouroboros, who have spread their shadowy, haunting presence over three full-length records now, their latest being the entrancing “What Graceless Dawn,” as powerful and riveting a late-year record as you’re going to find. Over the entire body of work, the band has created music that’s impossible to pinpoint. While not metal through and through, there’s an emotional and psychological heaviness, but intermingled with that are elements of folk, chamber music, ambiance, and death rock. Yet, as I say that heaviness isn’t their primary trait, this is the band’s weightiest record so far. Some of the guitars churn a little harder, the drums chew up the space a little more forcefully, and there are times when you’re ready for the world to begin gushing blood. And sometimes, it does.

Worm Ouroboros are just a year away from their 10-year anniversary as a band, and their initial, self-titled debut came out two years after the formed. That record proved that this group had something a little different to add to heavier music, and that promise truly paid off with 2012’s excellent “Come the Thaw.” The band—bassist/vocalist Lorraine Rath, guitarist/vocalist Jessica Way, drummer Aesop Dekker—explores deeper realms of sadness and tragedy on “What Graceless Dawn,” a record that can pull you under the murky waters, force you confront visions of sadness you might not have imagined before, and bring you back to surface a forever-changed person. Get ready to wallow along with them in the doomy, grimy underground.

This six-track, 68-minute record opens, quite fittingly, with “Day,” as the ghostly pace meets with hovering noise, and Way and Rath’s voices begin to mix together, like they do on the whole record. “The sun rises in the east, clothed in robes of blood,” is whispered ominously, as the whole song opens, with a mournful gaze erupting, and the song flowing out into the distance. “Broken Monuments” has singing breaking the surface and moody sounds rising with it. The track plods along in the shadows, as it feels like an old, lost soul is rowing you along through foggy, vine-filled tributaries. Guitars later swell, with melodies spilling down, the darkness dragging its shadows, and a jazzy feel emerging, as the cut gently slithers away. “Suffering Tree” has naked singing and the music trickling in, as a spiritual essence spreads itself and helps the song flow serenely. Rath’s and Way’s voices intertwine like serpents around a tree, while the guitars drag thorns, charge up, and disappears into the mist.

“Ribbon of Shadow” is the longest track at 13:48, as it slowly awakens, quietly breaking its strings and unfurling itself. The drama here is built beautifully, with the singing rising above the murk, and the tempo later getting tougher. Guitars unleash their power, as noises sting, the melodies arrive in waves, and the cut disappears into a cloud. “(Was It) The Cruelest Thing” has hushed vocals and choral winds, staying foggy and calm for a stretch before the volume begins to build. The music here challenges you and refuses to let you off the hook, and even when the tide recedes, you’re still looking at unsettling waters that could swallow you at any time. Just like its beginning, singing dashes over the final minutes, with sounds bubbling up toward the end, and the drums striking away at your ribs. Closer “Night” runs 10:41, with whispers inviting you into the opening, and the track taking on a mystical flow. The playing has a dreamy feel overall, with the voices swirling around your head and the guitars charging up to spit some fire. The song keeps folding and bending, like a hidden forest path, and once the colors begin to mute, everything dissolves into a hazy pocket of sound.

It’s always easy for us to say “this is the band’s best work to date” when it’s still fresh and exciting in one’s mind, but after multiple visits with this record, that feeling has only grown. Worm Ouroboros are at their most visceral and emotional on “What Graceless Dawn,” and the music is bound to grab your heart and significantly impact you. The band’s never going to compete on a decibel level with most metal bands, but they’re as dark, impactful, and misery-inducing as any artists out there.

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

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

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

If you ever get a chance to see Primordial, you absolutely should do it. I don’t care what you think of the band, whether you love them, hate them, or are indifferent. Once you experience the band live, there’s no doubt you’ll either walk away an even bigger devotee or a convert who finally saw the light.

I saw the band for the first time in the late spring of 2015 at Maryland Deathfest where, even in the broad-day sunlight, they were a total force of blackness. Their Celtic-and-black-tinged metal sounded as epic and righteous as one could believe, and it was a live experience I cherish to this day and beyond. If you’ve never had a chance to see the band before, their new live record “Gods to the Godless (Live at Bang Your Head Festival Germany 2015)” is a pretty good representation of what you’d hear live. On this 11-track collection that does a nice job spanning most of the way across their career (they don’t touch their first two records “Imrama” or “A Journey’s End”), they took to the stage July 17, 2015, and completely dominated. From singer Alan “AA Nemtheanga” Averill’s opening salvo, “We are Primordial from the Republic of Ireland, and I have a question. Are you with us, Bang Your Head?” it’s off to the killing fields, where the band unleashes anthem after anthem, bleeding passion throughout.

Naturally the set opens with “Gods to the Godless,” from 2000’s excellent “Spirit the Earth Aflame,” as the band—Averill, guitarists Ciáran MacUiliam and Micheál O’Floinn, bassist Pól MacAmhlaigh, drummer Simon O’Laoghaire—are in command, mixing in Celtic melodies along with the crunchier sequences. They then shoot back to their most recent LP “Where Greater Men Have Fallen” with sweltering “Babel’s Tower” and the title track, proving once again their meddle is as strong as ever. “No Grave Deep Enough” sounds even more defiant than it does on “Redemption at the Puritan’s Hands,” with Averill wailing, “O, death, where are your teeth? That gnaw on the bones of fabled men?” It bursts with energy and pride, as you pretty much can imagine Averill prowling the stage and wailing his diatribes. “As Rome Burns” reaches to “The Nameless Dead,” as the pace is pulled back a bit, though the performance and atmosphere are as heavy as anywhere.

Averill opens “The Alchemist’s Head” by reminding that the song is about poet and Romantic Age pioneer William Blake, as the band draws from their most recent record. A somber dark opening sets the stage for when the thing rips open in earnest, and it’s one of the more sinister songs on the record. It seems defiance always is a theme with Primordial, and they unleash more of that with “Bloodied But Unbowed,” a track they dedicate to the band Portrait before they launch full bore. “The Coffin Ships” manages to be just as spooky here as it is on “The Gathering Wilderness,” with them trudging through open space, with torches held aloft into the fog. “Heathens, raise your fists!” Averill demands at the front of “Heathen Tribes,” pulling their participation throughout the cut. Once it gets fully under way, it makes your heart surge blood throughout your body in a way only Primordial can. “Wield Lightning to Split the Sun,” the final cut from the latest album, is called a pagan anthem and it unfurls over the crowd. It’s a spirit-rousing track, uniting those who truly do stand with Primordial, and it paves the way for cataclysmic closer “Empire Falls,” one of the touchstone songs of the band’s run, which is the great exclamation point at the end of the set. “We are in the death throes, but we will not go down without a fight,” Averill howls, having no idea how close to home that would hit a year and a half later. The band does an amazing job delivering this, making hairs stand on your arms, with you pretty damn sure you’d head right into battle with them.

If ever you have the privilege of seeing Primordial in the flesh, you really should jump at the chance. They’re one of the most in-your-face, forceful live acts in all of metal, and they should be ranked up near the top in live experiences. Personally, I’m already hungry for a new full-length from the guys, but I certainly don’t mind reveling in live versions of some of their best songs until that day arrives.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.indiemerch.com/metalbladerecords

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

Doom and gloom is thick and heavy. It feels like 2016 has been a struggle from day one, as humanity has taken many steps backward and people are dropping dead left and right. The status of the United States is kind of a trainwreck as well, and the arrival of the darkest seasons of the year could not have come at a better time.

With that said, it’s a great time to settle down with “Atrophy,” the stunning new record from Downfall of Gaia. You want to be smothered into the ground and left for dead? Then this is the record for you, because you will not come away uplifted with your spirits soaring. But if the darkness is something you embrace right now and you cherish music that can wallow along with you, this will feel like the perfect companion in the shadows. On a less foreboding note, this also happens to be the best music Downfall of Gaia have offered up to date, an album that feels fresh and monstrous from listen one, and their passage back to their heavier, angrier roots was a great move to make this a memorable album.

Downfall of Gaia have been laying waste for the past eight years, starting out more as a crust-heavy behemoth that seemed like an unlikely pairing with one of the top metal labels in the world. Yet, they caught the attention of Metal Blade and delivered their stellar second record, 2012’s “Suffocating in the Swarm of Cranes,” one of the bleakest, most punishing albums ever released by the esteemed label. Their last album, 2014’s “Aeon Unveils the Thrones of Decay,” wasn’t a bad effort at all, but it seemed to run in place a bit. The album wasn’t the step forward I expected and fell a little flat. But “Atrophy” steers the ship in the right direction and rages forward, as the revamped lineup of long-time members Anton Lisovoj (guitars/vocals) and Dominik Goncalves dos Reis (bass/guitar) team with brand-new guitarist Marco Mazzola and drummer Michael Kadnar (who played on “Aeon”) to form a fierce group that should power this band well into the future.

The record opens with “Brood,” where noises that sound like a plane engine falling swarm, with drums ripping through that and the song exploding in earnest. Wild cries lacerate the senses, as a black metal-drenched pace is achieved, and feral melodies drip all over. Massive sounds cascade, while a rush of energy, animalistic howls, and the return of that doomed engine round out the track. “Woe” is fairly uptempo at the start, with the band thrashing wildly and guitars calling out in the night. Throaty howls and nasty growls team up, while the drumming just blisters, and the tempo wrecks your already bruised wounds. Some atmosphere is led into the scene before sucked out into a black hole of volatile shouts and panic that eventually trickle off.

“Ephemerol” has a clean beginning with melodies fluttering over top before it blasts open sans warning. Gruff growls and a stabbing pace create havoc, while the bulk of the song goes for the jugular again and again. A cold, murky passage arrives later on, but that ushers in charnel guitars and a gazey finish that leaves you staring blankly into the sky. “Ephemerol II” is a bit of a breather, as over 2:21, noise spits, chilling guitars bring soothing cool, and the madness is permitted to evaporate. The title track follows, as gigantic black metal-style riffing hulks all over everything, and the growls look to smear your face into cinders. Melodies surge, but so does violence, slipping into a cloud-covered guitar glaze that hints at serenity, but lies. The crushing strikes anew, as the wails obliterate hopes, an onslaught of sound suffocates, and a power explosion wraps the cut. Closer “Petrichor” is an instrumental that slowly unleashes its intent only to speed up suddenly and spray shrapnel. That burst is short lived, yet effective, as the final minutes are built on pianos and calm after the destruction, as you gaze at fiery hillsides and choking smoke pockets that line your field of vision for miles.

Downfall of Gaia sound channeled and deadly on “Atrophy,” and I enjoy it every bit as much as their 2010 debut “Epos.” Spilling in more black elements was a wised choice, and the viciousness and morbidity that are smeared over this record give it a nice bloody stench. This is a band that deserves your attention, and they have a rock-solid new record and powerful back catalog to stand as all the reasons why you’ll ever need.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.indiemerch.com/metalbladerecords

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

Metallica is one of the greatest bands of all time. They’ve also become the butt of a ton of jokes, and for very good reason. But they matter, and they’ll always matter, and without Metallica, the landscape of metal would be completely different.

Every time the band comes out with a new record, it’s cause for excitement and extreme anxiety. The too-smart, too-extreme people will write them off like they never fucking created “Ride the Lightning” or “Master of Puppets,” but fuck that. The reason a new Metallica record causes such conversation, be it positive or negative, is because they matter like few other bands, and they will forever. The band is releasing their new record “Hardwired … to Self-Destruct,” their 10^th overall and first since 2008’s “Death Magnetic.” Look, at the time of this writing, I’ve not even had the music for 24 hours, but I’ve visited a few times and formulated something of an opinion. If you wanted to hear Metallica return to their savage sound of old, you’ll be disappointed. The bulk of the record teeters between the black album and “Load,” and I already can sense your dread. Let me finish. It also has some of their heaviest work in a long time, including one song I’d put up with the glory years.

At 12 songs and nearly 80 minutes, this is a double album that doesn’t need to be this long. If they trimmed this to eight songs, this would be a goddamn great Metallica record. But the one thing that prevails throughout, is the band sounds like they want to be here. This sounds like the record they want to make, and not one second of this is forced. So even the stuff that’s more in the “Load” vein sounds good and passionate. If you’ve listened to the songs the band released online, you’ve heard all the best stuff, apart from one song, but the things you haven’t heard mostly works. I think disc one is far superior to disc two, but disc two has the album’s best track. In fact, disc one plus a track or two from disc two would be ideal. It’s crazy. Anyway, let’s take a track-by-track look at this thing.

“Hardwired” – You’ve heard this one. It’s fast, savage, and punchy, and the awkwardly worded chorus aside, it would be a fun show opener.

“Atlas, Rise!” – Another that’s premiered online, and it’s a damn good one. James Hetfield’s vocals, which are ridiculously improved on the whole record, shows the first strain of melody, and this is one of the absolute keepers on this record.

“Now That We’re Dead” – I don’t like this one, but that’s because I don’t like “Load.” This one is very much in the vein of that album, though it’s heavier. Not a terrible song, but it doesn’t do anything for me

“Moth Into Flames” – Another one that’s already been heard online. This is the perfect mix of punchy thrash and accessible melody, and it’s a really strong song. This is another keeper.

“Dream No More” – Look, if you write a song about Cthulhu, I’m pretty much predestined to like it. This sounds like a black album cut, but a good one, and the idea of the dead priest rising from his watery grave always will make great fodder for a metal record.

“Halo on Fire” – This one really doesn’t fit in any era. It’s not super heavy, though it’s pretty engaging, and this features some of Hetfield’s best singing. If you require thrash, you won’t like it. I think it’s a really interesting wrap to the first half of the album.

“Confusion” – Initially I was turned off by this one, but there are some muddy, doomy twists that I don’t expect from this band. The chorus is interesting, and some of Hetfield’s delivery is impactful. Still, if it came to requiring a single disc, I’d cut this one.

“Man Unkind” – Apropos for our current political environment, and one of the more striking set of lyrics on the record. It starts off with a weird clean tone and then slips into “Load”-style groove. Eh. Not terrible, but not essential.

“Here Comes Revenge” – Another that could have been on the black album. The rhythm section smashes pretty hard, and the guitar work would make for a pretty sure-fire radio hit in any era.

“Am I Savage?” – Ominous and heavy, this is another that would have been at home on the black album. I can see this one going over really well live. The groove isn’t obnoxious, and while Hetfield’s singing is a little grating here, he does a decent job on the chorus. Passable.

“Murder One” – This is the one legit bad song on the record. I can’t justify this one.

“Spit Out the Bone” – The goddamn best song on the record, and one that, had it been released in 1995, would be a Metallica classic. The song is fast, ferocious, and pleasingly melodic. I have listened to it over and over again, and it should be embraced as a Metallica treasure forever.

So that’s that, one idiot’s feels on the new Metallica. The album is fun and very listenable, and after all the tumult with this band’s past, I’ll take it. The heavy stuff is very good, and I am excited over the enthusiasm they pour into those ones. The other stuff makes it seem like they really want to be here, and this representation of the band at least can be taken as an honest one. We’re never getting another classic, but an album such as this that has some exciting moments that could become part of their live catalog is the best for which we can ask. I’ll take it.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://metallica.com/store/featured

There are those times when things seem as bleak as can be, where hope is fleeting, and it feels like it could be any time now before the sun is sucked back into the universe, leaving everything in darkness. In those times, you don’t always want something to bring you out of that state, but rather you’d like to be pushed even further into the void.

For those who feel that way, back come Thralldom from the ashes, with more dark, penetrative music to soundtrack what are turning into hopeless times. A full decade after their massive last full-length “A Shaman Steering a Vessel of Vastness,” the hellish duo returns with their new effort “Time Will Bend Into Horror,” which picks up where they left off and drags them even further into blackness. This digital-only release falls into the late year nicely, as the chill and days with the daylight choked from them are here in abundance. The grinding, industrial-stained black metal Thralldom are well known for hammer away and leave bruises. But they also inject enough cosmic fog into this to make your brain feel like it’s lost on some other level, running away from forces you can’t quite see but definitely can sense. Over the course of six tracks and nearly 28 minutes, Thralldom unroll the black curtain, raise it to block out the sun, and render you a heap, forced to stare right into your own despair.

Having Thralldom back in our midst is a sight to behold. The band consisting of vocalist/guitarist/bassist Ryan Lipynsky (who is damn busy these days and has another trick up his sleeve coming soon) and drummer/noise technician Jared Turinsky remains as horrific as ever before. Having been a unit for nearly two decades now, they’ve managed three full-lengths, a few EPs, and some smaller releases, and “Time Will Bend Into Horror” is another strongly alchemic step in their mission. While this recording is a bit on the short side (it’s EP length in time, but certainly not in scope), it has maximum impact and feels like a fire-breathing machine from start to finish.

“Cosmic Chains” begins the record in what sounds like a hissing factory, with a weird noise haze, the feel of drilling machines all around you, and a weird cosmic interference that cuts through that and drives you into “Chronovisions.” There, black melodies and Lipynsky’s deep howls emerge, causing your head to swim underneath waves of panic. The vocals absolutely crush the senses, and even when calm swims in for a spell, it eventually breaks out hard as riffs rain down, and Lipynsky howls, “Chronovisions!” over and over, almost like a rallying cry. “Stars and Graves” is disorienting at the start, with guitars dizzying and penetrating growls ripping holes. Chilling guitars mix with ashen whispers before the song roughs you up again and sends you catapulting into the walls. Strong soloing burns a path, while the rest of the elements spill over and rumble toward the finish.

“The Corpse of the Radar Tower” has a strange, proggy start, driving at a calculated pace and eventually heading into mechanical storms. Strange chants arrive, pushing into trance-like terrain and bringing fright, and then the cut explodes and unleashes razor-sharp guitars. The final minutes bend backward with a fury before coming to a tumultuous end. “Dark Grey Mist” is the longest cut at 7:42, and the floor drops out immediately. Doom clouds arrive immediately, situating themselves in the muck and letting laser beam synth pass. The song bludgeons and smears its enemies, as abrasive sounds and a thick bassline team up before heading into a hypnotic crawl. Lipynski roars heavily over the back end, while the music feels like it’s violently sucked into the cosmos. “Transmission” acts as the perfect bookend with “Cosmic Chains,” bringing the record to a close with cold, damp noise and a ghostly apparition warbling behind the chaos and pulling you into a nightmare for good.

With dark times filled with nauseating pain, it seems the perfect time for Thralldom to be back in our midst with new music. “Time Will Bend Into Horror” certainly soothes the pain of a decade-long wait since their last record, and they sound as vicious and channeled as ever before. Shit’s bound to get really bad before it gets good again, and this punishing new collection will go hand in hand with the cities and world burning.

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

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

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

The current state of America probably has people here wondering if they want to live or die. That’s an unnecessary way of thinking about things, sexist orange game show hosts running the country or not, but deciding whether it’s worth going forward surely went through some people’s minds. It’s not so far-fetched as to be unbelievable.

German black metal band Gateway to Selfdestruction probably laugh at such situations and the way some teeter off the emotional cliff over things such as politics. On their raw, thunderous debut record “Death, My Salvation,” the band spends eight songs walking the line between life and death and whether survival is something to be relished. As a regular event, not after some giant event that leaves disappointment. The music is oddly melodic and surging for work that carves so dangerously at the psyche, but buried within that are vocals that deliver utter turmoil and heaviness that bring black feelings and sorrow. The group—vocalist Mara, guitarists Mortem and Abryss, bassist Chual, drummer R.K.—set up shop with producer Patrick W. Engel to create a record that’s packed with old death-doom, charring black metal, and even some atmosphere that allows in some much-needed air when you feel like you’re suffocating for real.

“The Blessing” opens the record with fully bleeding riffs, Mara’s harsh wails that pierce your ear drums, and a wall of strong melodies, which is a recurring element on this record. As we move, the music rushes down, and the vocals wrench like a vice. Mournful playing and dreary, fading final moments rush into “Black Quiet Death,” where clean guitars bubble initially before the thing is ripped apart. The singing brings torment, as Mara wrings emotion from every word, while an oppressive fog slips in before surging heavily toward the gates. “Destroyed Self” unloads black riffs and charred passages, and the creaking vocals whip into insanely catchy melodies, sweeping you into the fury. Static crackles and rises, only to be met with glorious guitar work, a serene passage the cuts through, and the song gushing to the end. “Reset” lets guitars burn, as Mara wails, “Follow me to the end of the night!” The track pours emotion, with dizzying playing altering your mind, wild cries blistering, and the band doing ultimate damage delivered via steamroller.

“Silence” has driving playing, a singular guitar that echoes alone, and a pace that starts driving slowly. From out of that comes maniacal howls from Mara, as she blasts, “It was the end of our life,” and the song then slips into ghostly, gothic territory that washes out in feedback. “Soziopath” has razor-sharp riffs that thrash the flesh, and Mara’s throat-mangling growls pelt you in the center of the chest. The pace then turns eerie and horrific, as the guitars develop thick ice that hold steady over the final minutes of the song. But just before it buries itself, the guitars fire up, and a massive assault drops its ton of bricks. “Rigidity” again has Mara on the hunt, stomping and crunching, while the band lets fluid guitars cascade, leads swell, and the rhythms knock you back and forth. Clean warbling comes out of that, and the final moments are downright haunting. Closer “Mirrors of Despair” is a short, foggy ending, as acoustics blend in, meeting up with crazed wails and reverberations, and the last moments of the song float out like a ghost, leaving behind no trace.

Gateway to Selfdestruction’s first record certainly will chew away at your nerve endings and force you to take the same journey where you evaluate the worth of pushing forward and extending existence. “Death, My Salvation” may not always feel as dark and foreboding as it is on the surface, but digging beneath the skin into the blood and veins exposes this album’s true intent. Spending your dark hours with this thing may not mean life or death for you, but it should challenge you to evaluate what circumstances around you mean and whether they’re worth it in the first place.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/gateway2selfdestruction/

To buy the album, go here: http://shop.northern-silence.de/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.northern-silence.de/

I’ve always been a huge fan of strangeness in any of my entertainment mediums. That goes for books, TV shows, movies, and, quite obviously, metal. If it’s well done and not just there as a forced gesture, nine times out of 10 it’s going to at least pique my interest, and a lot of the bands that I count as some of my favorites have a weird streak going through them.

One of the oddest and most mysterious entities in all black metal is Deathspell Omega, the shadowy, faceless disciples from the void who have stymied art and expression for years. There are a ton of bands—probably too many—who try to imitate the way DsO do their thing, and while some come pretty close to nailing it, none do it the way this French band twists the screws. Like a nightmare falling from the sky with hardly any warning, the band just released its sixth record “The Synarchy of Molten Bones,” their first record since “Paracletus” six long years ago. In true DsO fashion, the record is an absolute mind fuck. It’s their shortest full-length effort to date at four songs and just a bit over 29 minutes, but it’s also one of their strangest and most effective. Their music always find a way to make your guts crawl, and there’s no shortage of bizarre, unsettling tributaries flowing through this record.

Deathspell Omega have done a fine job keeping the band in the shadows, somewhat, over the years, though their faces can be found if you do some quick searches. The group consists of vocalist Mikko Aspa, who has been behind the mic since 2002, as well as guitarist Hasjarl and bassist Khaos, who have been there since their 1998 origin. The band doesn’t make music that’s easy to digest, and taking on their records at a time when the mind is weak could cause panic and discomfort. Then again, I find that’s the best time to listen to DsO as their music floats through a chaotic universe. “Synarchy” continues that path, grinding your mind and weaving in their own philosophies that push metaphysical realms of Satanic theology. To the uninitiated, that means it’s incredibly scary and can make you hear voices threatening and summoning you from beyond.

The record opens with the 6:58 title track, as bells ring out, doom horns seem to indicate Biblical-level catastrophe, and the eventual deluge of trauma spread over the first minutes. The music slithers and scrapes its way, heading toward complete destruction and gurgled growls that feel alien-delivered. The track hits a dizzying vortex, while sheets of synth spread stardust, only to have the music unseal its own wounds and unleash a terrifying finish that tries to stop the heart. “Famished for Breath” splatters itself all over the place, as total madness arrives and leaves you on the brink of psychological collapse. The growls sound threatening, as Aspa wails, “The haughty strides of time thou shall put to a halt, and mangle past and future with ghastly wounds!” The melodies confound as they seem to seep through dimensions, and the track ends with drums thrashing, and the growls pounding monstrously.

“Onward Where Most With Ravin I May Meet” is the longest cut at 10:12, spindling into oblivion before exploding and challenging your every inhibition. The pace warps the brain before it sets into a tricky, confusing terrain that will have your head permanently tilted to the side. Start-stop knifing takes over, as a thick bassline snakes through and brings dark elements along with it. The song eventually slows down, bringing with it the sensation that you’re succumbing to fever, unaware of your surroundings. Gurgled speaking bubbles up, while horns bleat their warnings, and a mystical fury brings the song to an end. The 5:52-long closer “Internecine Iatrogenesis” pours mathy conflict, while black, churning guitars do their damage and rip a hole in time. A massive storm lays waste, while wrenching growls and poisonous filth join forces to choke out any light. The drums plater, doom horns strike their last, and the entire things comes to a crashing, smoking death.

Deathspell Omega remain one of the pillars of modern black metal, and their style is that of the—excuse the cliché—often imitated, never duplicated. “The Synarchy of Molten Bones” is another unsettling chapter of their mission, one that might force you to struggle to get on their mental level, if you’re so inclined. If you’re tackling this is as a mere music event, you’ll be forced to rechannel some of the impulses in your brain and hang on to your psyche if you hope to come out unscarred.

For more on the band or to buy digitally, go here: https://deathspellomega.bandcamp.com/

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

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

It used to be that November and December were dead months when it came to strong, important music being released. But things have changed rapidly the past few years, and these months when it used to be a struggle filling a site with content now is the land of overflowing new records that are powerful and worthy of being celebrated with the best work of the entire year.

This year continues that trend. We have great stuff scheduled the rest of the month and into December, and today we’re gifted with one of those releases, that being “Guardians,” the third effort from Saor. The project of sole member Andy Marshall (also of Fuath and formerly of Falloch, among other bands) continues to reach into the battles, history, and heritage of its creator’s Scottish homeland, and his brand of atmospheric Celtic black metal continues to get bigger and more intense as time goes on. This record is another major step in Saor’s impressive run, one that’s spawned two other records that have grown in inspiration and scope. The cover of “Guardians” gives you a gaze into a blue-splashed wilderness that doesn’t tip its hand to the season (it could be late autumn, winter, early spring), and the sounds that greet you on this five-track, 55-minute album essentially paint the same portrait.

Saor kicked off a mere three years ago, as Marshall strongly established himself early with the project’s stunning debut record “Roots” in 2013, following that with “Aura” in 2014. There have been a few live shows from a fully staffed band here and there, but essentially this is a studio project that sounds like it’s creating its sounds in some isolated corner of an icy forest. But while Marshall is the driving force behind Saor, he gets a helping hand from some notable musicians on this record including Bryan Hamilton (Cnoc An Tursa) on drums; Meri Tadic (Irij, formerly of Elueviete) on fiddle; John Becker (Austaras) on strings; and Kevin Murphy on bagpipes. Combined, the players here create a massive world that breathes deeply from the Earth’s atmosphere and Marshall’s roots, and “Guardians” is an arresting creation that’s as strong as any other black metal record this year.

The record kicks off with the 11:31 title cut, a track that starts with birds calling, acoustic guitars pouring in, and bagpipes arriving like a fog over the hillside. The song eventually bursts in with power, as Marshall’s thick, ground-chewing growls settle in and drive, and huge melodies sweep you away. Deep strings continue to push the emotional tone, while guitars wash over everything, blasts chew away at you, and the growls scrape the earth. Whistles swing in as rustic winds whip through, and the track surges to its finish. “The Declaration” rumbles open, and tremendous riffs cascade, as the growls roar with power, and strings drizzle passion. The pace is hammering for the first stretch, before cloudy sections push in and bring serenity, and then guitars gust up again. From there, a tidal wave of sound arrives, thrashing your heart, and the track ends up in an ocean of passion that is overwhelming but ultimately fulfilling. “Autumn Rain” goes 11:09, and it’s perfectly titled as it feels like you’re basking in the elements, layers of clothing hugging you. A folky mist pushes through before the track hits a furious deluge that mixes with woodsy elements. Amid the chaos that shows its face, again we visit with traditional Scottish folk elements that immerse themselves in a wall of acoustics. Gigantic roars and growls erupt, powering the song’s last stand of decibolic fury before the track trickles away and fades in a rustic rush and frosty keys that make you yearn for a warming fire.

“Hearth” starts with acoustics and rich ambiance, as the air picks up and pushes through, as Marshall unleashes feral roars. As heavy as this track is for the bulk of its time, it also is very heartfelt, an homage to his homeland that is compounded with strings and even some clean singing. “This is my home, my heart, my soul, my hearth,” he calls, as lush melodies accompany what’s going on here, and quieter strains set in and spread serenity. As the track nears its end, the power kicks in and a huge emotional surge of playing stretches over several rousing minutes until the end. The 11:18 closer “Tears of a Nation” rips open right from the start, with Marshall’s growls exploding, and Celtic-flavored melodies flooding the surroundings. Bagpipes blow again, lighting fires within your soul, while the track destroys again and powders bones. There’s a mournful section that comes out of all of this, dropping a dark shadow. But before it all ends, glorious guitars glow, the song gets another huge infusion of emotion, and everything piles together and brings the record to the incredible close that should have your head rushing and your blood pulsating.

The fact that the metal world keeps giving so late into the year is a gift to behold, and Saor’s “Guardians” is one that should be embraced and absorbed in full for a fully immersive experience. Marshall has built this band and crafted its approach carefully, and in such a short time, he has created one of the more captivating bands in all black metal. As sure as the winter winds will whip every year and bring with it a chill, we can be certain Saor will keep visiting us with imaginative, emotional new adventures that keep the fires within our hearts lit all year long.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://shop.northern-silence.de/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.northern-silence.de/