Sequels can be hit or miss. Actually, if we’re being totally honest here, sequels generally are way more miss than hit. A lot of times they are created not necessarily because the creator has more to say, but instead to reap in the cash awards that will come with droves of people wanting to see the follow-up. Therefore, substance takes a back seat to style.

But not all sequels are disappointments. Take, for instance, “Landless,” the new record from Portland-based band Eight Bells, who created this piece as the follow-up to their excellent debut “The Captain’s Daughter.” The person who was lost at sea last time has returned only to find no one is waiting on the other side. The idea is crushingly sad. If we’re equating this record with any movie sequel, you could make the argument that this is “Empire Fucking Strikes Back” levels of fulfilled anticipation. That, obviously, was the original title until George Lucas Lucas’d out. Don’t argue with me. This second record not only should catapult Eight Bells into the hearts and minds of metal fans who don’t mind crossing a ton of boundaries, but it’s an early album of the year candidate that fascinates with every damn listen. And I’ve spent a ton of time with this thing.

So, I mention metal, and this is a metal site for the most part, but that’s not an completely accurate tag to put on this band. There is so much more. From the progressive sections, to the enthralling arrangements, to the lush vocal harmonies that push the story, to the propulsive drumming, this group–guitarist/vocalist Melynda Jackson (formerly of Subarachnoid Space), bassist/vocalist Haley Westeiner, and new drummer Rae Amitay (Immortal Bird, Thrawsunblat) create weaving, winding tapestries that are melodic, dark, hypnotic, and often leave you breathless. This also is an album you should digest as a whole from the opening sound bed right through to its abrupt finish five songs later. This is an adventure, especially emotionally, and it manages to take what they accomplished on their first record and blow it into the stratosphere.

“Hating” opens the record with sounds emerging and stretching over the horizon, and as the song develops, so do the layers. The track moves coolly until it finally bursts open, with power swelling, atmospheric guitars lapping, and the singing pushing its way through. The track settles into a stormy mid-tempo, with the final minute letting the bass bubble to the surface, a glaze of keys add a shimmer, and the drums rumble out. The 12:46 title track follows, and it’s one of the best songs to be released so far in this young year. We begin with kinetic riffs, the tempo charging, and the music exploring, reminding of Rush on more than a few occasions. Jackson’s and Westeiner’s voices meld together before the earth tears apart and wild shrieks take control. But it sweeps back to the calm again, following this pattern over the bulk of the song. As the song progresses, it gets spacier and foggier at the same time, feeling dark and lonesome for stretches and sinking into what feels like eternal nightfall. Then the final minutes strike, and it is explosive. Furious growls smother, while the main riff returns, each member pours all of their emotion into the song, and the end mixes dreamy gaze and volcanic thunder.

“Hold My Breath” has another great riff that feels like it jolts electricity, with great, harmonious singing leading the way, and punchy, yet scenic, playing setting the scene. The song hits the gas, speeding along and doing some bruising, though it eventually sinks into calm and comes out the other side bleeding colors. Jackson and Westeiner join forces again, making you think you’re shifting into softer waters until the blazing starts anew. The vocals are howled, the pace rips apart everything in its wake, and the calls of, “Hold my breath,” rings out to bring the song to its finish. “The Mortal’s Suite” is a shorter one, opening like it’s going to be an interlude with classical splashes to the music and a rush of sound. But then singing trickles in and numbs the senses, while the guitar calls out like a lonely siren. “Touch Me” brings the record to a close, starting with swirling vocals, interesting textures, and the body of the track seeming to float into the clouds. The music hovers, with the guitars churning and burning and melting over top the song. As the piece moves along, the intensity builds and works into a dizzying display. The guitars mesmerize and disarm, while the playing crunches and pounds away, and the abrupt ending tears your breath away. There are parts of this record that stay jammed into my head, and it usually results in me going back and taking the trip again.

I have no idea if any readers take my recommendations to heart, but seriously, go out of your way to hear this record. Eight Bells have created something expansive and uniquely creative, and “Landless” is an album that will stimulate you mentally even if it makes heavier your already bruised heart. As far as sequels go, this one raises the bar insanely high. Hell, if it was just a stand-alone journey, it still would be insanely rich and rewarding.

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

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

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

From a pure weather standpoint, winter has completely sucked where I live. We have had one major snowfall. Beyond that, we’ve been treated to a few nuisance snows and a whole lot of really mild days that feel like a combination of March and October. Considering this is a time where I visit a lot of specific music based on the season, it’s been a disappointing stretch where my mind has been left confused.

If the cold weather ever truly returns this season, I have a bank of music ready to go so I can enjoy while I watch the flakes falls. One of those is the stunning debut record “I” from Fuath, the new project from Scottish musician Andy Marshall. This has everything one needs when the ground is covered, you’re trapped inside, and you have no worries other than what kind of dark beers will be enjoyed during it all. I was pleased when I went through the bio materials and learned that Marshall also had winter in mind when making these songs, which meant I was on some sort of same wavelength. The music is atmospheric, frosty, majestic, and melancholic, and it puts me in the mood to embrace the cold winds and get swept away on mental adventures.

Marshall has been making music in all different realms of metal for years. His other current project is the folk-tinged black metal Saor, who you need to seek out now if their music is foreign to you. He also was a member of Falloch, a band that still claims a place in my heart, as well as many others, and here, he is blending all sorts of different shades and colors into his concoction. There are long, swirling passages that could arrest you and have you staring, almost the way your brain can trick you into thinking you’re spinning while driving through a blizzard. There also are harsher element, furious growls that are situated underneath everything, and the four songs here create a hypnotic, repetitive (in a good way) scene that envelops you.

“In the Halls of the Hunter” blasts open, putting an explosive burst at the front of this 9:04 track. The growls are buried beneath the din, with gorgeous, sweeping melodies charging in, and heaviness piling on. The pace drills pretty hard, but then it’s onto majestic wonder, with the growls rushing into the melodies, the elements cascading like a storm, and the track disappearing into a misty cloud. “Blood” runs 10:34, and it punishes right off the bat. The sounds here are elegant in spots, with the playing gushing feelings and colors. There is a strong ignition later on, bringing a force along with it, and the blistering drumming and vicious growls deliver a sense of violence. A numbing vortex of sound emerges, pushing you back and forth, and then calm arrives, letting the air settle before a final assault kicks up and ends the track in a rage.

“The Oracle” has the music washing over everything, with the vocals bubbling underneath, and the tempo surging ahead. There is a flush of melody that bursts like a swelling stream, feeling rich and adventurous and leading into a long, pulsating section. Your mind is tingling and later swimming as the layers thicken, and while the storm holds up and seems ready to depart, it’s actually just about to make its final push and drive the song to its burning conclusion. The 11:58 closer “Spirit of the North” seems aptly titled as it churns frost at the start, with the growls bursting and sounding ominous, and the song taking on a wintry rush. The riffs pierce and cut before power blows in, the growls get thicker and more forceful, and a dizzying stretch begins. From there, the riffs gallop hard, the dust-up from the march hovers overhead, and all of the clubbing makes one last stand before fading away.

Marshall’s work over the years is unquestioned, and Fuath is perfect for the colder months where you want to wrap yourself in warmth in front of a crackling fire and imagine trudging through the forest. “I” is an excellent adventure, one that conjures an icy environment that pelts you with power and emotion. It’s another riveting step in Marshall’s creative path, one that will warm the heart if the cold air and snow ever decided to arrive in full.

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

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

For more on the label, go here: http://www.neuropa.be/site/

Any band that is going to throw piss at the concept of conventional creativity already has a head start on gaining my interest. With the myriad bands and records that come my way each day, not everything is going to stand out as something worth hearing. I’m not, like, Mr. Important or anything. It’s just the nature of things.

So, when “SeroLogiikal Scars (Vertex of Dementiia),” the debut record from German weirdos Khthoniik Cerviiks landed in my inbox, that thing got ingested immediately. Not digested. This is a band and album that doesn’t just hit the gut and settle itself with no problem. These guys are out there, and their totally unconventional brand of death metal stands way, way out in an otherwise flooded pack of bands. You have the weird spelling of their name (these guys love the shit out of the letter “I”), their mouthful song titles that sound like they were transcribed from an alien space lab (and who says they weren’t?), and their own brand of communication that leaves your brain mangled and completely overwhelmed with strangeness. How does that not sound like a band and record you have to experience immediately?

Khthoniik Cerviiks formed just two years ago and combine members of fallen bands Zuul and Ignis Uranium, with the idea of keeping the spirit of both groups alive. This band is comprised of interestingly named crushers Okkhulus Siirs (bass, vocals), Khraâl Vri*ïl (guitars, vocals), and Ohourobohortiik Ssphäross (drums), and the concept of this record focuses on diseases and pathogens contained within one’s own body that may never even rise to a level of being something that impacts the person. As a hypochondriac, let me go take a couple of deep heaving breaths. Anyway, the music is so twisted, so not of this world, that it might catch many listeners off guard at first. If your musical tastes fall somewhere in a sludgy mix of Gorguts, Wormed, and Voivod, you’re the most likely recipients to grasp this thing first time out.

As noted, the song titles are long and packed with weirdness, starting with opener “Schizophradio (KC Exhalement 2.0: Technocide Inertiia)” that spits mechanical noise and alien atmosphere before opening up and starting its metamorphosis. Some of the guitars sound inspired by classic death, while the cut crushes harder and harder as it goes, with a proggy sequence landing toward the end and thrashing to a finish. “SeroLogiikal Scars (Sequence 1.0: Vertex of Dementiia)” lets guitars spill and splash, with vile growls bubbling, the pace pulverizing, and the speedy runs pulling at your brain stem. The assault is tricky and challenging, moving along at a cartoon-like pace, disorienting before it makes its gargantuan final statement. “Miindwrecked (Project Eigengalaxy)” is rubbery and spidery at the start, and it would be interesting watching this thing growl legs and carve its way across the earth. The playing is all over the map, with melodies hiding underneath the surface, dark and burly playing slithering, and the track spinning out.

“Biinary Epitome (Spyder’s Web)” sounds a little washed out at the start, cooling your senses before the guitars light up and the bottom drops. A thrashy, mystical assault pushes forward, with the guitars exploring, the tempo baffling, and the vocals sounding grim and monstrous, with everything ending in a flurry of motion. “SeroLogiikal Scars (Sequence 2.0: Veiled Viiral Vektor)” begins with speed bursts and then travels its way into thick doom. The sounds flood and overwhelm in no time, with the growls grumbling and the band hitting a nice groove. The skull bashing arises again, with unruly chaos dominating and the cut coming to an abrupt end. “Cranial Leftoverture (Angel’s Pyramiid)” goes off right away, feeling like something that lurches out of a cosmic station, and the growls blowing heat. The track is vicious and perplexing, with the infernal storytelling slashing its way, and the track later settling. Melody pours over the ugliness, the track grinds its way through, and the final moments drub you heavily. Closer “Voiidwarp (KC Inhalement 2.0: Meta Material Monoliith)” is a weird outro, a smear of noise that injects a final dose of strangeness into your bloodstream before fading away.

Khthoniik Cerviiks regurgitate something that could make for the darkest episode of the “X-Files” ever. The music is so brutal in an alien-like fashion, that it might make one wonder if it isn’t going to awaken some of those microscopic bodies lurking within us. On top of all the off-balance things about the band, one can’t ignore the fact that these guys are really fucking good. A great, warped death metal band for the future that just so happens to inhabit our world today. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go wash my hands 87 times in a row.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Khthoniik-Cerviiks-1667196730203180/

To buy the album, go here: http://shop.ironbonehead.de/

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

I’d never done battle with a barbarian or wiped the blood from the blade of an axe into the grass, relishing another successful battle. Those days were kind of before my time and all, though it’s pretty cool to see all that take place in movies and such. But I’m hardy battle tested. I’d probably fold like a whimpering card table.

I’m not certain the fellows in UK doom unit Conan have waged wars either, but you wouldn’t exactly know that from taking on their crushing, bone-bursting music that they’ve made for the past decade or so. In fact, since 2012, the band has launched three punishing full-length records that have solidified their standing among underground fans and have made them one of the most exciting, reliable bands in all of metal. Now, with 2016 under way and starting off really strong, Conan are contributing to that massive wave with their great third record “Revengeance,” a title that might not be topped all year long. How do you beat that title? Just saying it gets your blood running, and that’s before you even dig into this six-track, nearly 48-minute monster.

After some starts and stops at the start of their run, Conan released a few EPs before making their impactful full-length debut with 2012’s earth-blasting “Monnos.” That madness spilled over into 2014’s “Blood Eagle,” a record that solidified their penchant for mixing the roots of doom with a modern, smothering sound that unites every era of the sub-genre. The band–its current lineup boasts guitarist/vocalist and original member Jon Davis, bassist/vocalist Chris Fielding and drummer Rich Lewis–also have carved out quite the reputation for their live show, where they bring the heaviness of their records and amplify that to ridiculous volumes. I listen to a ton of doom, and Conan without a doubt are one of my favorite bands of that ilk going today.

The record erupts with “Throne of Fire,” a track that tells you all you need to know in its name and that gets charged up right away. The vocals howl with fury, while the bottom end rumbles heavily, and each verses pulverizes you. Gruff growls later emerge, as the tempo of the song pulverizes, clobbering you into unquestioned submission. “Thunderhoof” rumbles from the the get go, with Davis and Fielding both wailing over the devastation, and the pace of the track lumbering along. It will feel like you’re stuck underneath a stampede of warriors as the song progresses, with the guys bashing away and turning bones to dust, and the final moments stretching out the gargantuan punishment. “Wrath Gauntlet” also begins its assault right away, with the guitars bubbling up and later smothering, and the rhythm section trucking monstrously. The vocals at first are forceful cries and later burning growls, and the playing reminds of great mastodons butting heads, clashing like there’s no tomorrow.

The title track follows, a piece that spits noise as it begins and is faster and more aggressive than a typical Conan track. This is an altogether new type of thing for the band, as the vocals are wild and abrasive, the band bludgeons with even greater might, and they sound downright furious and violent. The drubbing goes on and on, leaving you no room to breathe, until it finally fades out in a bed of drone. Holy shit, man. “Every Man Is an Enemy” settles in a field of feedback, with a doomy groove settling over like a storm and the vocals howled. Then we sink into a psyche-heavy, spacey section, playing games with your mind before the devastation comes again. The words are belted out with aplomb, and the back end of the track blows sparks and then bleeds away. Epic closer “Earthenguard” runs 11:44 and develops slowly, taking its time to stretch its muscles. As you’d expect, the track is muddy and smashing, with some trippy guitars washing in and giving the track a bright sheen, and the pace sweltering dangerously. The band lets the whole thing come to a clobbering high in the final minutes, with the guitars gurgling, the assault coming unhinged, and the track surging dangerously before fading away.    

Whether or not they’ve waged wars with minotaurs or stared down great beasts, Conan’s music makes it sound like they’ve got the scars to prove their savvy on the battlefield. “Revengeance” is another bloody building block in the band’s punishing campaign, and with each record, they just get better. As long as we have bands such as Conan around doing their thing, doom will remain healthy, heavy, and absolutely deadly.

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

To buy the album (international), go here: http://shop.napalmrecords.com/

Or here (U.S): http://www.napalmrecordsamerica.com/store/

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

Getting smothered and beaten severely doesn’t like a terribly pleasant undertaking, does it? That would hurt, man. No one wants to be at the other end of complete savagery. But what if that beating was more of the sonic variety than the physical one? Would the experience sound more inviting to you?

If so, “Ezekiel’s Hags,” the third record from Los Angeles sludge monsters Seven Sisters of Sleep, should be right up your alley. I’ve said this before, but calling music heavy on this site always feels stupid. No shit it’s heavy. But SOS’s brand of muddy, crushing metal has to be described in this manner because it truly is the first descriptor that comes to mind. If you can imagine cement trucks doing bloody battle in some kind of industrial cage, you’ll have a good idea what to expect here, as these 11 tracks pack a severe wallop. This record also is a little beefier than what we’ve come to expect from the band, with the album running about 50 minutes of tar-boiling fury, 15 minutes or so longer than usual.

Although the band only has been around for six years, they’ve gotten a lot done in that time frame. As noted, “Ezekiel’s Hags” is the band’s third long player, with 2011’s self-titled debut and 2013’s “Opium Morals” preceding it. They also have put out some split efforts with bands including Ilsa, Shaman’s Owl, and Children of God, and they’ve also splattered audiences with their live show. Here, the band–vocalist Tim McAlary, guitarists Brock Elmore and Eddie Bermudez, bassist Chip Blake, drummer Brian Thomas–sounds as if it is growing into a scarier, burlier monster as they push past the shorter blasts of their past in favor of letting their reach branch out and accumulate bodies along the way.

“Jones” unloads noise right away, simmering there before the track erupts fully. Heavily shrieked vocals, as well as guitars that lean black metal, lead the way, as the vicious agenda blasts right into “Denounce,” the second-longest track at 6:38. The song takes its time and lashes away, as harsh growls pound, and the tempo mauls with a calculated pace. Riffs lap over pockets of thrashing, while the back end destroys, practically spitting nails and then bleeding out in feedback. “Gutter” sits in furnace-like noise before a burly riff emerges, speeds up momentarily, and then settles back into the mud. The band strikes hard, even swaggering at times, before blowing into “Plateau” and its slow chugs. The growls are buried under the chaos boiling, while the guitar blow fire, and feedback consumes all. “Brother’s River” has weird melodies and bizarre riffs, eventually stomping along and chewing on some Sabbath-style guitar work. “Prey” is ominous at the start, with feedback spilling in, filthy growls choking, and the wheels spinning out in the muck.

“Third Season” sounds mournful when it gets underway, letting dark waves crash over, setting the stage for the wrenching growls. The riffs are strong and staggering, with the drums battering you and the vocals teetering between gurgling growls and fierce shrieks. “Sacred Prostitute” has noise scraping and suffocating guitars, with the doom later dropping and further darkening the scene, and the guitars churning and causing total decimation. “Ud-Nun” spills stabbing noises, with more cement truck-heavy doom riffs settling in, and the tempo smudging over the chorus. The final moments completely explode, spewing shrapnel everywhere. “War Master,” as one might expect from its title, is massively heavy, with the vocals finding new ways to frighten and the guitars taking on a tone that oddly reminds of classic power metal. That all sets the stage for the 10:19 closer “Bastard Son,” a track originally available on the Shaman’s Owl split and that uses every second wisely to do as much damage as possible. The track orchestrates a well-planned assault, landing punches slowly and to the right pain points and forcing you to gasp for air in the thick humidity. The pace changes about halfway through this bastard, with the guitars charging hard, harsh wails penetrating, and the song dissolving in bed of feedback, chewing the track’s flesh from its bones.

Unless you have no self-control, you likely can survive “Ezekiel’s Hags” without any physical wounds. But Seven Sisters of Sleep do a fine job meting out psychological and auditory violence, making your psyche feel it’s gone through a 12-round battle with a behemoth. This band is growing massive and unforgiving, and this record is an absolute beast.

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

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

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

As noted 15 million times on this page, I have been watching pro wrestling avidly for decades. Initially, I just kept up with the storylines from the announcers and the wrestlers talking about their motivations and why they wanted to destroy their opponents. As time went on, I realized there was another layer of plot afoot, one woven together by the performers’ actions, facial expressions, and timing that pushed the sub-plot going on physically.

That idea is one I often think about when approaching instrumental bands. Groups that go without singers and elaborate (or more simplistic) lyrics have a bigger challenge engaging their audience with their musical journeys. I have friends who prefer not listen to instrumental bands simply because it’s not as easy to grab onto the threads, but I’ve always felt the opposite. There is so much space to explore and possibilities lingering out there, that a record could become whatever you want to make of it. French explorers Aluk Todolo are the perfect example of this type of thing, a band that can capture your imagination simply through their playing and jettison you off to somewhere else. You don’t need to have a story told to you. Instead, you can feel their intracacies and waves and take whatever type of trip suits you.

The band has returned with their excellent new fourth record “Voix,” a six-movement album (and follow-up to 2012’s great “Occult Rock”) meant to be digested as a whole, because that’s what it is. It’s a piece designed to be experienced as one, not unlike a movie, and as each new segment feeds from the other, you can’t help but get caught in the waves. Aluk Todolo–guitarist Shantidas Riedacker, bassist Matthieu Canaguier, drummer Antoine Hadjioannou–enrapture you with their hypnotic melodies and musical precision, leaving you no need to hear them speak to you with words when they are just as effective using sounds.

Each track is given only its running time as a title, so we start with “8:18” and its doomy lurching that reminds a bit of the opening to “Iron Man.” It charges up and gets loopy and proggy, with some dreamy passages surging, and the journey taking you into pockets of wind gusts. The lead guitar work burns, while a cosmic glaze is drizzled over it all, and we’re into the second piece “7:54.” The sounds that carry over swim, with the drums splattering and the guitars charging. The song seems to radiate, with murk rising and its various parts bustling, and then sounds stretch overhead, sounding like a jet engine. The guitar works smokes and hovers, leading into “5:01.” The humidity thickens as it eases into calm. The track floats for a while before it ignites, with each part of the track then smoldering. The melodies later take on a mesmerizing tone, with the guitars getting tornadic and your brain melting down.

Then it’s on to “7:01,” where the piece settles down again, with a noiry splash and the various sounds crying. The guitars then dig back in and begin to agitate, while the darkness spreads over everything, bringing back the spellbinding power. As the piece goes on, the pace begins to steamroll, the bass gallops, and we’re right into “5:34,” which continues on the same path. The guitars strike like lightning, but as the song progresses, it gets a little moodier. The drums drive, the bassline runs circles, and the track begins to induce panic, leaving you gasping for air as the finale “9:29” arrives and keeps snaking through the thick air. Spacey noises give a hard woosh, with guitars humming underneath that, and the bottom end getting aggressive. The pace scorches later, letting the chaos hang like a cloud before surfy, trippy elements take hold and numb your brain. The final moments slowly trickle off into the distance, as the remaining echoes make their mark.

Aluk Todolo keep driving into deeper black holes and expanding the space around them. Their records are journeys that never feel or sound the same way twice, and that same thing goes for “Voix.” This is a stunning piece of work that is cinematic and mind altering, and it is going to drive you to places in your mind you may not have known existed.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.theajnaoffensive.com/collections/all

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

Or here: http://www.noevdia.com/

It was a strange weekend of reflection as I was writing this. My town was enveloped with snow and ice, so much so that we were trapped at home for a good bit of the weekend. Living where we do, we’re not terribly close to the heart of nature, being in the middle of a suburb. But I felt like as the snow fell and the streets and homes were encased, I longed to be in the middle of trees and natural wonders.

I got the same feeling from immersing myself in Forndom’s debut record “Dauðra Dura,” a seven-track album that feels like being in the center of a forest. This band is the brainchild of multi-instrumentalist L. Swärd, and his atmospheric, stunning world mixes folk, ambiance, and ghostly chants in enrapturing fashion. If you find yourself wanting to walk right into a frosty woodland as soon as you sink into these songs, then you’re in the same place I’ve been with each visit. Swärd pays homage to Scandinavian folklore, mythology, and nature, giving you a deep drink of what from his Swedish homeland inspires his creation. This record, the project’s follow-up release to last year’s “Flykt,” will have your head swimming and your senses pulsating as it connects with your and Swärd’s surroundings.

The record opens up with “Nio nätters led” that has acoustic guitars bubbling up, folkish chants emerging, and a haunting, woodsy feel to the music as it flows toward you. The emotion is evident, and the spirit of the track you practically can reach out and grasp. Low chants and ambient rumbles are the first things we hear from “Den grymma hästen,” as thunder cracks and guitars begin to jab. Hushed group singing hums, with all elements pushing and slithering to the end. “Resan” simmers in its pot, giving off thick steam and sweltering in its own juices. A single voice calls out wordlessly, sending chills down your spine. “När gudarna kalla” lets darkness waft, as the strings begin to stir, and chanted calls rise up. Horns erupt like a lone call in the wilderness, and doom arrives, bringing with it a thick, impenetrable fog.

“Svitjod” is the longest cut on the record at 5:56, with drums being tapped and a misty atmosphere taking hold. The guitars are gazey and create frost, while the strings scrape and a dark, forestal feel emerges. The track feels like the soundtrack to a short, dark film, and it doesn’t let go until it finally subsides. “Jag vet ett tempel stå” has drums leading into the mire and eerie noise smothering. The melody haunts, while weird and hypnotic sounds swirl, and a strange calm pushes the song into the night. Closer “I Hels sköte” brings in another wave of chants, as the noise swells and later feels like a washed-out fever dream. It seems like you’re ensconced in a strange vision, the space between awake and asleep, with the singing having more force and greater clarity, and the final moments bleeding away for good.

If you’re seeking brutality and decibels, Forndom might not be for you. This music is calmer but riveting, beautiful but stimulating, and it gets into your bloodstream and through to your soul.If you’re hoping for something to fit alongside your Wardruna and Ulver records, Forndom should satisfy that hunger. It’s a strong piece to have with you next time you plan exploring your own neck of the woods.

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

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

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

In the name of great, unspeakable horrors rising from the depth, as well as the fantasy of great battles of darkness and light, we wrap the week with some music that doesn’t even sound like it was created by humans. And maybe it wasn’t. I wasn’t there when it was recorded, and chances are you were not either. So who’s to say whether this brutal slab of chaos didn’t arise from the depths of the ocean and spread itself into the ears of vulnerable, unsuspecting victims.

The name Chthe’ilist obviously conjures thought of Lovecraftian horror and the mighty Cthulhu, the High Priest of the Great Old Ones who came here from the cosmos and spends much of its existence slumbering in a watery grave. However, the band states the lyrics to their songs are original stories and not derived from the Mythos or any other texts. The ones not conjured in their own minds instead are influenced by various versions of The Legend of Zelda. The music on “Le Dernier Crepuscule” from this Quebec-based death metal band gurgles and mystifies, feeding off the same ideals as Crematory, Demilich, Timeghoul, Convulse, and bands of that nature and allows their terror to reach across eons. The music is baffling and smothering, the vocals have moments where the growls turn into alien-like transmissions, and the band’s seven-track debut record is a smashing, mind-boiling display.

It’s pretty clear from hearing this band play that they’re very well accomplished musicians even before digging into their resumes. This is techy and brutal, but not in a lunkheaded, detached kind of way, and the more I hear it, the more I get consumed by its insane waves of madness. As far as the band goes, we have Philippe Tougas (Atramentus, Sercos, etc.) on vocals, guitars, bass, and synth; Claude Leduc on guitars, bass, and synth; and Philippe Boucher (Beyond Creation) on drums. Their mystifying forays stun you lyrically as well as musically (you might need to spend some time to parse through the lyrics for full absorption of these tales), and their commitment to this fury is both infectious and admirable.

The title cut kicks off the record, a stormy, crackling instrumental that’s more of a scene setter than anything. It brings the fog and mystical elements, mixing with “Into the Vault of Ingurgitating Obscurity” that blasts open into gorging violence. The growls sound like they’re being delivered by a cosmic machine, while the music boils like a science experiment, and the vocals later turn to chilling singing. Terrifying shrieks later erupt, as the guitars hit a proggy push, and the track melts into monstrous noises. “Voidspawn” is slow driving at the start before it starts to warp. Misty keys hang in the air, while the music gets dizzying and disorienting. The growls gurgle like they’re bubbling through mud, and some exploratory guitar work sheds some light onto the murky terrain. “Scriptures of the Typhlodians” unleashes hellish noises, with the song erupting and crushing everything in its wake, and the throaty growls doing damage. More challenging playing arrives, with bizarre whispering sitting underneath the storm, and the back end erupting into violence.

“The Voice From Beneath the Well” begins with water dripping as if in a dark space station, and then the bass starts splattering while the pace ignites. The growls sound delivered from a gargoyle, with the melodies causing your head to spin, and the bass slaps adding some unexpected groove. “Vecoiitn’aphnaat’smaala” is another that sounds like it could have formed in Lovecraft’s brain, but it’s their own piece. The track is tricky and punchy, fast and smothering, with clean singing welling up but later giving way to growls. The soloing hovers and glares, and the latter stages of the song speed up and thrash heavily. “Tales of the Majora Mythos Part I” is full of Zelda folklore, and it was a misty, hypnotic start that flows into piercing guitar squeals. The vocals switch back and forth, from raucous growls to disarming singing, while the soloing tears in out of nowhere and joins up with a pace that starts to mete out destruction. Later, the track hits the mud pits, with bells chiming, pained wails belting, and the piece stretching its haze and capturing minds and souls.

As brutal and astonishing as they are, Chthe’ilist won’t be up every death metal fan’s alley. This is weird, glooping, smeary stuff, and it could take a little time for these songs to have their full effect on you. If you’re excited about unimaginable terrors and death metal that will tangle your brain, tackle “Le Dernier Crepuscule” and get ready to fall into deep, psychological convulsions.

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

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

Or here (vinyl version): http://www.darkdescentrecords.com/store/

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

Or here: http://www.darkdescentrecords.com/

I like a blunt, reactionary record as much as the next person. But I also enjoy putting on an album that you can tell was formed after some well-thought-out creativity sparked by whatever was moving the musicians at the time. Those are the ones that tend to get those “adventurous” and “cinematic” tags, and for the most part, that designation holds water.

Same goes for “Old Sunlight,” the new and third record from UK post-metal (for lack of a less annoying term) band Latitudes. Actually, that can be applied to all of their recordings, as you can tell these guys work and craft until their musical output matches what’s in their hearts and minds. The seven songs they present here are largely instrumental cuts, with vocals sprinkled in here and there, that could make you feel like you’re soaring through the clouds amid a blue sky. There is a passion and energy that you practically can reach out and touch, and the music can sweep you up and take you away somewhere unexpected.

Latitudes have been doing their thing for a decade now, releasing their first EP “Black Epiphanies in Slow Motion” a year after getting together. Their first full-length “The Agonist” arrived two years after that, with vocalist Adam Symonds and keyboard player Rich Harper joining up with guitarists Adam Crowley and Tim Blyth, as well as bassist Jon Lyon and drummer Mike Davies.Their second record “Individuation” dropped in our laps in 2012, and all the while, the band has been strengthening their live game, including playing at a slew of major European festivals. All that clearly pays off on this third record, that has the power and energy to floor you.

Instrumental “Ordalian” begins the record in a surge, with noises hovering in the air, making it feel like you’re soaring through cumulus. The riffs crunch and bruise, but it’s not long before you’re immersed in more atmosphere and dreamy passages. Prog bursts flourish, with dramatic pounding leading to the finish line and into “Body Within a Body.” Parts of this remind me of Cynic (especially the alien-style singing), while keys emerge and send the track into the cosmos. In the latter stages, the song opens up and gets more aggressive, raging and exploding before heading into the murk and mire. “Amnio” is another instrumental cut, a shorter track that feels like walking into a science lab, with everything pulsating and visions of rolling past stars rushing to the forefront. “Gyre” also has prog-minded bits before guitars start to charge, and everything is sucked into a spiral. The keys shimmer, while the band hits on some really intricate, perplexing sections that get heavier and chewier as they go on. Finally, the intensity hits a high point before the song fades in a bed of synth.

“In Rushers Bound” has gentle singing at its start, as the song begins to blossom. Clean guitars arrive and add their dashes of color, while the sounds get cloudy, and every element pops. A gazey breeze begins to blow as moody singing arrives, classic metal-style guitars rip, and the song comes to a rushing, emotional finish. “Altar Pieces” trudges at the start, picking up the pace as it goes while the synth bubbles underneath. A blast of power metal blisters, with the drama rising, and then it’s into watery, trickling playing. The final moments are really energetic and smoldering, leading into the closer “Quandary.” This is the shortest song of the bunch at 2:27, and it evokes memories of early Queensryche, when they could be a riveting as anyone. “Let the wolves have their say with me,” Symonds calls, as his words are surrounded by whirring keys, frosty ambiance, and guitars that let a brief flame bring the thaw.

Feeling like a cerebral adventure into the stratosphere, “Old Sunlight” continues Latitudes’ run of making music that captures you and rewards you with a true experience. The fact they keep getting richer musically and more accomplished as a unit is clear on this album, and it should be a barnburner when played live. Latitudes keep building bigger, more dynamic worlds, and there are no boundaries as to where they might expand next.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.debemur-morti.com/en/12-eshop

For more on the label, go here: http://www.debemur-morti.com/en/

Photo by Angela Boatwright

Unless you’ve been trapped at the bottom of the ocean, you’re aware the world was gifted by one final David Bowie record before his untimely passing last week. In everyone’s grief, there was this collection that painted as clear a picture as one will find of a person’s impending doom shared with the rest of the world. The fact he passed just days after its release made it hit even harder.

The metal world kind of has one of those releases as well with the arrival of Black Tusk’s fourth full-length “Pillars of Ash.” It is the first record to be released by the band since the tragic passing of their bassist/vocalist Jonathan Athon (his friends simply called him Athon), a release many thought we’d never see. It’s the final music Athon recorded with his bandmates and touring brothers, guitarist/vocalist Andrew Fidler and drummer/vocalist James May, making it a bittersweet, blissfully raucous record that sends their friend off in as spirited a manner possible. I know tragedy trends to make people look at things with different eyes and hear music with different ears, but this is a fucking killer record. If this is to be Athon’s musical last will and testament, he could not have gone out on a higher, more explosive note.

Black Tusk have been doing their thing a little over a decade now, unleashing their first full-length record “Passage Through Purgatory” in 2008. After a few split releases (with bands such as Fight Amp and The Holy Mountain), they found their way to current home Relapse and released their fire-breathing second record “Taste the Sin” (“Embrace the Madness” is an absolutely crushing track and one of my favorite in their whole run), and from there, it was on to “Set the Dial” a year later. The past five years, the band has been pounding the pavement, putting out smaller releases, and setting the stage for this crushing new record.

The record rips open with “God’s on Vacation,” a churning, menacing track that has Athon (the deep growler) and Fidler (the higher-pitched wail) trading vocal lines, while the band hits total demolition and delivers a chorus that will floor you. “Desolation of Endless Times” is punchy, catchy, and really heavy, with the vocals pulling back and forth and the pace thrashing. “Bleed on Your Knees” is riffy as hell and goes a little more the classic metal route, as the tempo chugs and chews, the song picks up speed, and the dust-up comes to a blistering end. “Born of Strife” has a filthy Southern rock groove to it, with the vocals spat out, the band hitting a hardcore-style fury, and some tasty guitar work burning to the finish. “Damned in the Ground” lets the notes hang in the air before it kicks into high gear. Athon howls away, with the track getting mucky and mean, and the last moments bursting before the cut bows out. “Beyond the Divide” takes a little time to get moving, but once it does, it blasts into bursts of speed, with the dual vocals striking hard and the raucous finish taking on a psychedelic edge.

“Black Tide” has drums bustling and bashing, with strong riffs leading the way and Athon’s growls belting you in the waist. Higher cries explode from Fidler, while swarming melodies rise amid fears of drowning. “Still Not Well” brings the psychedelic wonder back into the picture, with heavy crunch making up the bulk of the track, and more Southern smudge chaos arriving. This track settles its assault a bit, simmering instead of boiling and taking on a sinister groove. “Walk Among the Sky” is super fast, with the chorus stuttered with Athon belting the final word of each line along with Fidler. It’s smashing and guttural, with the final call of, “We are prepared to die,” feeling particularly pointed. “Punk Out” sounds exactly like its title indicates. It’s fast, there is a nice dose of D beat, and the whole thing has a dank basement blur to it. Closer “Leveling” lets the guitars go off, as the track explodes with power, and the assault makes you dizzy and confused. The band keeps up the intensity, giving it all the fire they have until the power slowly fades, and chilling pianos dress the final moments with a cold, drenching rain.        

Black Tusk live on touring and hopefully creating music in the future (Corey Barhort will take Athon’s place in the band). They’ll never be the same band they were with Athon, but their legacy has been cemented. I’ve long been a huge fan of this band, and it’s a little tough realizing this will be the final time we hear them in this form. But luckily we have these final moments this beast known as Black Tusk spent with Athon, and they sure as shit made them count.

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

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

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