In the Biblical story of Adam and Eve, I always thought Eve kind of got the raw end of the deal. Millions of years after this tale was to have been set, it always seems like Eve is looked upon as the evil one, the person who brought about original sin simply because she listened to what a snake had to say. You know the rest: Adam and Eve eat the forbidden fruit, and then they are banished from paradise of Eden by God.

OK, so it’s part of the creation narrative and really never happened. But the symbolism is alive and well. We learn that Adam and Eve went on to have three children, and one of them kills the other, and all of that. But what if Eve instead had turned her vengeance on Eden for being seduced into eating from the tree and losing her freedom? What if she exacted the first example of a women standing up for herself and her actions and let the place burn? That’s what Dagny Susanne envisions on her new record under the Nachtlieder banner, “The Female of the Species.” Take a look at the album art, and you see Susanne taking on the role of Eve, and on these eight tracks, she lashes out at her loss of liberation and the central site of creation embraced by the Abrahamic religions. This is her way of giving Eve her power back.

Nachtlieder was created by Susanne in 2008, a raw, expressive black metal project packed with furious assaults and her grim, guttural growls and shrieks. Joined by Martrum on drums, this second record follows up on the thunderous promise shown on the project’s self-titled debut from 2013. Susanne shows prowess and power in buckets on this record, letting riffs rain down like black plasma and following that with her unearthly vocals that sound both full of anger and terrifying. Following along with her on these eight tracks, you can immerse yourself in the tale’s volcanic beginnings and take the journey all the way to the end when paradise is in flames.

“Malice, Come Closer” tears the lid off the album, with a heavy dose of crunch, riffs catapulting, and Susanne’s rough, gruff growls sobering you quickly. The track storms hard, with Martrum’s drumming blistering and the melodies overflowing. “Nightfall” follows with another strong dose of riffs spraying blackness, and the tempo moving quickly and aggressively. The wails are raspy as hell, while the fury is unleashed in blinding bursts, and a crunchy section emerges that brings more bruising and a hellish finish. “Fatale” lets the pace boil, with Susanne wailing out, the rhythms pounding, and the guitars spiraling and spilling. The tracks keeps progressing along a calculated path before it eventually fades away. “Lonely Mortal” gets volcanic right away, punishing and mauling, as some razor-sharp riffs cut through and darkness spreads. The track later bursts, allowing more punishment to take control and the finish to totally snarl.

“Eve” starts as a doomy march, with the tempo drubbing and welting and riffs rolling over the top. Wild cries tear open the track, with Susanne pouring an ocean full of emotion into the mix, and a cold melody line trickling behind the chaos. Suddenly the path halts and the song goes cold, but out of that comes raucous chugging that draws blood. “Silence and Devastation” is heavy and ugly, with the vocals eviscerating everything in sight and the pace hitting a hard gallop. The riffs are vicious, a violent end causes choking smoke, and then it’s into “Cimmerian Child.” There, guitars spiral away, with wild howls smearing and the music churning. The band heads into thrash and comes out showing off elegant melodies and a new burst of fire. The song pounds away and refuses any mercy, and then it’s on to the closing title cut that takes its time building a scene. Eventually it bursts, with speed and guttural force leading the way, and the guitars pouring down molten lava. The band hits all kinds of highs on this 8:24 crusher, from thrashy pockets to simmering black riffs to vocals designed to rip out hearts. The final moments hit a dangerous blast and smashes to the end, watching everything burn away.

Susanne’s work is dramatic, violent, and always compelling on “The Female of the Species.” You don’t need to invest in the story to recognize the powerful riffs and torrential vocals pounding down on you, but it sure helps to get a thorough understanding of this piece of work. This is a story to which many can relate: A misdeed followed by what we feel is an unjust punishment and a reputation we don’t deserve. Most of us have no choice but to take it. As for Eve on this record, she’s answering with flames.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://i-voidhanger.com/shop/

For more on the label, go here: http://i-voidhanger.com/

Photo by Peter Beste

It seems like the era of truly legendary bands is slowly passing. Each decade that precedes this one, there had been a slew of artists who created their own thing and carved their own paths into history for disciples to follow and potentially build upon for the future. As time has passed, and art has been watered down and marginalized, the idea of these types of artists has fallen by the wayside.

If that’s true and legends are dying out, Sunn 0))) may be one of the final of a passing breed. If you’re into heavy music, especially that of the underground variety, you know Sunn 0))). If you don’t and you claim to have knowledge, you are wrong and have years of study ahead of you. Growing from the drone influence of Earth, Stephen O’Malley and Greg Anderson created one of the most unique, influential bands in the world, and as time has gone on, the group has morphed, at times darkened heavily, and continued to be a monstrous force at which to marvel. Generally you either love or hate this band, with little in between, because their dark, cataclysmic sounds either resonate with you or they do not. Because of that, people who genuflect at their altar tend to be fervent in their adulation and deem this band one of the most important in their personal musical DNA. I know that I, as a mere scribe, certainly feel that way. Also, as par for the course, Sunn 0))) have brought in multiple players to be a part of the record, from Attila Csihar (also of Mayhem, who is now their regular vocalist), Steve Moore (Zombi), Oren Ambarchi, and Rex Ritter.

Word passed a few months back that the band would close out the final month of 2015 with a new album “Kannon,” their first full-length studio effort since 2009’s incredible, path-changing “Monoliths & Dimensions.” Since that time, Sunn 0))) have put out smaller efforts, a giant stack of live albums, and two stunning collaborations: one with Ulver, the other with Scott Walker. Now, six years after “Monoliths,” the influence of their outside musical partners seem to have bled into their work. “Kannon,” which is centered on aspects of Buddhism, most notably the deity Guanyin Bodhisattva, known as the goddess of mercy (for a full explanation, check out the expansive liner notes written by Aliza Shvartz). This focus seems to have lightened the band’s touch, added some glimmers of hope, and let them spend less time bludgeoning with thick power and concentrating on different energies. It’s not an immediate Sunn 0))) album (if one of those even exists), as it took me multiple listens to fully embrace this, with several experiences with the vinyl version finally acting as my breakthrough.

“Kannon I” starts the record with lighter, glimmering tones, stretching out and creating a serene ambiance. Creaky grumbles slip beneath the surface, with melodies hovering and a remaining warm and spacey atmosphere hovering. Those weird hums remain in place, with wooshy, foggy sound blankets being pulled over, beams of light shooting from the murk, and feedback wailing and subsiding. “Kannon II” opens with a dose of threatening noise, with drone scraping, the dueling guitar and bass tones reverberating, and chant-like singing spilling over that feels almost liturgical. The sounds smother and spread, with smoke continuing to rise and block out the serenity, and feedback bubbles out of that and hardens on the surface. Cataclysmic drama unfolds from all of this, as the fury slips into noise and fades into the distance.

“Kannon III” has feedback returning and spitting, with noise and drone charging, and Csihar bellowing boldly over this, sounding almost like a pained ghost. He lurches along and later dissolves into furious growls, as eerie chants sweep into the scene and bring a chill, and the music hits a steamy simmer. The growls and shrieks return to menace, sounding terrifying, while the guitars begin to glow, noises trail off behind everything, and the track, as well as the record, comes to an abrupt end. It’s not a terribly long record, as you might have deciphered (it’s 33:25 long), which is something that feels a little strange. It just seems to so brief, especially when compared to Sunn 0))) records of the past, though that’s not necessarily a negative.

Sunn 0)) never seem to stay in one place for very long, and it’s one of the reasons they’ve remained so influential and vital. “Kannon” takes some warming up to, for sure, and it isn’t as thick and foreboding as their past work. It’s something different and a little foreign for the band, and while the skeleton is recognizable, the flesh that’s grown around it is different. I’m curious to see where this record places in the band’s, well, canon as the years go by. It certainly stands out among their other creations and takes you on a totally different trip.

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

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

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

If there’s one trait that’s not typical in doom metal, it’s speed. And that’s on purpose. The objective of many dooms bands is to stretch out what they’re doing and unleash their wares in a deliberate, calculated manner. It sounds spookier, angrier, and more destructive. It also happens to be a characteristic that not all doom bands have mastered, as there can be a fine line between compelling and boring.

A band that definitely has the slow thing down to a science is UK duo Bismuth. When I say this band plays slowly, that is pretty much an understatement. They are in no hurry whatsoever, and you’re often left hanging onto notes and pockets of sounds that feel like they stretch on for eons. But that’s the point. Bismuth relish this fact (just check out their bandcamp URL: http://bismuthslow.bandcamp.com/) and do whatever they can to grind their beatings to a crawling, slithering roll. Their new album “Unavailing” is a perfect serving of their dark, droning wonders, and each of these four songs could be called epics, with you wondering if that term is underselling.

Bismuth emerged from Nottingham three years ago, offering up their EP “The Eternal Marshes” in the year of their birth, and contributing to a split with the bizarre Undersmile a year after that. They put out a live album last year, and now they’ve surfaced with their first full-length, a perfect display of what this band does so well. As noted, this is a duo, with Tanya Byrne on bass and vocals and Joe Rawlings on drums, though he also contributes guitars to one track on the album. There are shadows aplenty on this thing, as well as caverns of darkness, and you are dragged through this journey, with your face feeling every stony crevice on your way to wherever they’re taking you. Oh, and by the way, this record is being released in a cooperation among like a million outlets (the link section below is fairly out of control), so no excuse you can’t get your hands on this.

“Tethys” opens the record with a grimy low end, with the rumblings spread over miles and the muck rising to the surface. Byrne howls and growls away, conveying pain and anguish, as the pace keeps bubbling and progressing, smothering the surface and smearing your eyes with soot. The drone buzzes and overwhelms, with the tempo just crushing everything in front of it. There are more than a few times when I want to lower my head and just trance out, with the band pounding away, some atmospheric vocals harmonies bleeding in, and the track settling, slowly fading away. “Of the Weak Willed” is the longest track at 16:28, and it feels like a swollen storm that merely stands in place, overwhelming the terrain beneath. Elements are added as time moves on, with single notes being joined by drums, hushed calls emerging, and jolts of power here and there that feel like electrical bolts. The track crawls and crawls, with some corrosion eating away at about the 12-minute mark, the tempo getting filthier, and deep growls blistering. The band keeps taking shots, staggering you, and that keeps up until the curtain drops.

“The Holocene Extinction” continues the trickling pace, with Rawlings’ drums being introduced and the pace taking its time to get moving. The band strikes hard over and over again, with the tempo bubbling and eventually catching fire, and Byrne’s vicious howls decimating. The approach is a pure drubbing, with noise bristling and scorching, as siren-like sounds begin wafting and electricity jolts the system relentlessly. “Solitude and Emptiness” finishes the record with scraping noise waves and disorienting playing, flooding the terrain with massive charges and stomps. The growls spill in and bruise the flesh, with blackness shadowing everything and the playing doing its best to dizzy whoever comes near it. An elegant shine reverberates off the riffs and continues grilling, spilling foreboding energy, bleeding heavily and slowly, and eventually fading into the night.

If slow is your tempo, Bismuth likely are going to be up your alley. This record is one of the finer pieces of doom metal to emerge this year, and Bismuth are helping to contribute to what’s been an atypically fruitful end of the year for metal releases. The band’s might is bound to be more realized in 2016 than the conclusion of this year, and any hungry mind willing to take this compelling trip is likely to be ground into the earth in as trudging a manner possible.

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

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

Or here: http://www.degraanrepubliek.com/?page_id=30

Or here: https://boxrecordsshop.bandcamp.com/merch

Or here: http://viralagerecords.blogspot.com/p/releases.html

Or here: http://tartarusrecords.com/merch

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

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

And here: http://box-records.com/

And here: http://viralagerecords.blogspot.com/

And here: http://tartarusrecords.com/

Misery can feel cavernous, mostly due to the fact that you can feel like you’re locked in a cave of sadness and woe that feels impossible to climb back out of. That’s why funeral doom, when done right, can capture these feelings perfectly and encapsulate you in a wall of horror.

Seattle’s Un fall into that category. By the way, trying to search Un on social media platforms and on Google is a pain in the ass, but I digress. Their debut record “The Tomb of All Things” is a five-track mammoth that indeed hammers home that feeling of desolation and loss. They deliver slowly moving, darkly emotional creation over this opus, another exciting band here to freshen up the ranks of the entire doom world. What they do isn’t necessarily groundbreaking or anything, but it really doesn’t have to be. This is honest, true, dreary metal that feels like it brings with it an ocean full of anguish and devastation.

Un formed just three years ago, and since that time, they’ve put out a couple of demo releases before combining together to create “The Tomb of All Things.” The band currently consists of guitarist/vocalist Monte McCleery (also of the great Samothrace), guitarist David Wright, bassist Clayton Wolff, and drummer Andrew Jamieson, and they’re already proving to be a formidable force. Certainly what they do has its ugly corners. But there also is plenty of atmosphere and melody to be had, so it’s not just a run-of-the-mill funeral doom record. That’s one of the things that makes this record so refreshing.

“Epigraph” opens the record, a brief introductory track built on serenity, clean, trickling sounds, and a sense of mourning. That leads to “Sol Marasmus,” a slow-driving, scraping helping of darkness dressed with throaty growls and gurgling power. Conan’s Jon Davis joins the fury on this one, with his howls mixing in with McCleery’s, and from there, the music goes into glimmering corners and through muddy bursts. The very end of the song gets watery and mystical, with an infusion of atmosphere and a slow fading away. “Forgotten Path” begins with a fury, opening volcanic doors and letting in the punishment, but then the sadness returns, and the pace slows down. Growls finally arrive about halfway through this 13:43 journey, with glorious melodies following and menacing vocals bubbling to the surface. The track continues unfurling and revealing new colors, at times sounding a bit like Pallbearer. Really strong track that never relents until the end arrives.

“Through the Luminous Dusk” opens with spacious melodies and frosty, anguished wails, trudging along a pained, bloody path. The music always moves and penetrates, with cold, shimmering guitar work gnawing at your senses, then the soloing tearing open and ripping a hole in everything. The portion has a classic metal feel and injects some nostalgia into the scene, and then the vocals bleed back in again, with the band pulling you underground with them. The closing title cut takes some time to build its momentum, leading you into mournful waters and total darkness, rocking you back and forth before the pace bursts open. The vocals are menacing and slithering, while the lead guitar work unleashes its power and completely mesmerizes. The track erupts again, as the band pounds away, the vocals wrench, and the melodies gush gazey emotion, letting the embers burn brightly one final time before the darkness returns and swallows everything whole.

Un’s debut record brings the band into the conversation of those groups who are keeping funeral doom interesting and, perversely, alive. “The Tomb of All Things” is a really expansive, interesting record, and it’s one of those bright spots at the end of the year. Un is planning a full-out live assault next year to support this record, so if this is your thing, go out and experience their power in your face.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://blackbowrecords.bigcartel.com/product/un-the-tomb-of-all-things-cd-pre-order

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

It’s not the ideal time to be thinking about the winter thaw. Considering that season remains a little less than a month away, that thought could be chalked up to wishful thinking, despite the fact that I enjoy the snow and deep freezes. Yet here I am, dreaming of lawns melting out from under snow, soggy, sloshy walking trails, and the first hints of warmth through the cold.

Those thoughts come back to me so many times when I visit “Sick With Bloom,” the unbelievable new record from Yellow Eyes and their third long player overall. Maybe it’s the album title, maybe it’s because the final track is called “Ice in the Spring,” but so much of this record makes me think of March and April, when seasons clash, one refusing to give way to the other. You can’t prepare for the conditions, and the way you dress in the morning is not the way you would for afternoon or early evening. It’s something that I’m really stuck on experiencing these six songs, and I wonder if in a few months when that times arrives if “Sick With Bloom” won’t have even more power. If that’s even possible.

Yellow Eyes have done a fine job carving out a stellar reputation for themselves while also staying oddly elusive. Their music is some of the most energetic, thought-provoking, and creative in the U.S. black metal scene, and as time goes on, the bigger their cult following seems to get. Yet their music isn’t the easiest to come by in the physical sense (just peruse http://www.sibirrecords.com/ to see all the items that have long been sold out), and most of that they’ve done has been built in a live setting. Yet the band–Will and Sam Skarstad, along with drummer M. Rekevics (also of Fell Voices, Vanum)–is putting out their highest-profile release yet (Gilead Media is handling the honors), so for a lot of people, this might be the first time you get your mitts on one of their records. And all for good, as this is the best thing they’ve ever put out (cue the “such and such album was better” crowd) and should open plenty more ears to their amazing sound.

The title track opens with insects chirping, chimes gently clashing in the breeze, and the eruption of the first of a swarming collection of warm riffs. The drums are decimated, while the raw, coarse shrieks rough up the skin, and an infusion of melody brings blinding colors. The music spirals, causing a dizzying effect, and that vortex continues and pushes its way into “Streaming From the Undergrowth.” There, riffs gush and the band pounds away, with wrenching vocals enhancing the complete chaos over which it spreads. Much of this feels like a black storm dropping, destroying any sense of calm or beauty and spreading all the way to the final minutes when serenity, and the insects, return. “What Filters Through the Copper Stain” emerges out of that, with melodies washing over slowly, only for electricity to burst with force. The band bruises and crushes, as riffs dominate, and their onslaught remains continuous until calm emerges, a storm settles over and soaks the ground, acoustic picking rises, and noise whines.

“The Mangrove, the Preserver” starts with black melodies pouring down, with anguish spilling out of every crevice, guitars sparking and sweltering, and the vocals scraping open your skin. It feels like being in the middle of a swath of rain and unforgiving winds that rob you off your balance, and these elements continue to churn and burn all the way to the finish. “Fallen Snag” erupts right from the start, with an entrancing pace claiming your ground, and speed and calamity being the dominant traits. Spindling, clean guitar work bubbles underneath the surface, while spacey, atmospheric elements slow the pace and cause the track to end in a shimmer. Aforementioned “Ice in the Spring” caps off the record, starting with arguably the best riff on the whole damn record and the band completely exploding. There is so much emotional caterwaul on display here that it can be overwhelming, as the band keeps lashing away, and a psychedelic wash lets just a glimpse of itself trickle to the surface. The track keeps driving, unloading everything it has before serenity arrives, acoustics rise up again, and the droned chirping drags you into the woods looking for new buds of life.

Yellow Eyes’ reputation was earned the hard way, and the praise you hear for them is completely justified. This is a band that improves with leaps and bounds every step of the way, and they’ve outdone themselves on “Sick With Bloom.” This record is a contagious one, a collection of songs that you’ll want to repeat after each listen. I’ve done that myself a ton of times already, and I’m sure I will well past spring’s final victory over the ice and snow.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Yellow-Eyes-659862920738821/

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

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

If you’ve paid any close attention to our ramblings here at this site, you know we’re pretty into the album experience. Sinking in to one piece that will take you captive and pull you through a journey is something we absolutely relish, and the more pieces like that to dot our meager collection, the better.

“Aquarius” the second record from Chicago-based noise technicians Oakeater falls into that category. Spread over six tracks come claustrophobic trauma, atmospheric weirdness, and sharp bludgeoning that could take off your head. It’s a record ideally experienced from front to back, with no breaks in between to disrupt the momentum. If you absorb it in that manner, you’ll find yourself on a black cinematic ride, with the walls shaking around you and the earth seemingly ready to swallow you whole. The band pulls you in all kinds of directions, which isn’t a shock coming from a band whose name is “loosely influenced by Norse mythology and an industrial shredder.” That is as close as I can think to describe the band’s approach, which is mashing and abrasive.

Comprised of Alex Barnett, Seth Sher, and Jeremiah Fisher, this band’s first full-length in four years pulls you through metallic noise, strange cyclones of mesmerizing chaos, and fierce cries that jar your system and rip you from whatever state you were in before tackling the music. Fisher explains that the sounds you hear are a form of catharsis, the result of a self-stimulated panic attack that causes him to create in havoc and explode with violent imagery. The feral cries you hear are all a part of that experience, as he wails about dead deer and, as strange as this sounds, false memories of imprisonment at the hands of bloody Khmer Rouge leader Pol Pot. No wonder this sounds so bloody terrifying.

“Wishful Beginnings” starts with grim noise unfurling and the atmosphere in a deep fry. The sounds keep looping and dizzying, with dark drops and haze, scrapes moaning and wailing, and the track slowly bleeding away. “All That Is Sacred” opens with cymbals splashing and test lab-style percussion rumbling, pushing in toward woodsier sentiments. Voices swirl and surround you, making it seem like the heights of a drug dream, before harsh growls tear away and cause immediate fright. From there, the fury builds, with industrial fuzz welling up, and weird knocking sending chills in the middle of an electrical storm. “Hatchet” is a shorter one, but no less unnerving. It sounds like someone dragging their leg through the woods and shoveling rocks, with strings bending, the sounds going into trippy corners, and the music bubbling over.

“MAPS” begins with sounds rumbling and vibrating, with wild shrieks erupting and sending jolts, and the body feeling like it’s being summoned into outer space. The wailing begins anew, with weird, rough playing piercing, and the terror dissolving. The title track strikes slowly at the start, with doomy transmissions galloping, drowned yells lurking under the blankets of clouds, and the rhythmic rattling setting off anxiety. Darkness hovers overhead, while the charging keeps wafting and the sounds threatening. Closer “Respite” unleashes doom calls, with the vocals gasping and rapid-fire strikes drawing blood. At times, it feels like a programmed machine gun pelting the walls, while the tension builds and keeps pummeling right to the end.

Oakeater’s approach likely won’t soothe the nerves of those dealing with heaping anxiety, unless those people can align with the madness and take it as a form of brutality therapy. “Aquarius” is a jarring, throttling experience that won’t be understood easily by the masses, who are not ready for such a display. But those who see the path ahead and are unafraid to take it, this is one of those experiences you won’t soon forget.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/Oakeater-248563928505272/

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

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

Photo by Marie Tellerup Madsen

With the holiday season approaching, it’s typically a time for good tidings, joy, and wishing everyone warm and wonderful sentiments. Sadly, a lot of that masks (at least temporarily) a lot of the ill in the world and the fact that many human beings really only spend one period a year being half decent before they’re back on the track to proving their true colors.

It’s always nice to know there are going to be bands out there to call people on this, and one of the latest to do so is Denmark black metal squadron Serpents Lair. All you have to do is go as far as their Facebook page to read their mantra, “We must end the preservation of human life now,” to know all you need to about the intent of their music. So yeah, let this band do a number on your holiday spirit and see how miserable you feel when it’s all over. Hey look, a reality check is a good thing, and if you’re not one of those people out there who only can show humanity and compassion toward people once a year (as much a sham as that is), then perhaps you belong on the other side of the wrecking ball, splattered all over by the war machine. Here’s guessing a whole lot of people aren’t going to miss you.

There may be some exaggeration coming from me in all of that, but not from Serpents Lair. The band’s debut full-length “Circumambulating the Stillborn” is a seven-track document of pure ferocity. Your head will feel weird, your body will ache, and you will get a heaping dose of filth and disgust once thing things comes to an end. This album is so mighty, it is taking a few forces to push it out into the world. The esteemed Fallen Empire will release the vinyl Stateside (Duplicate has it for our European friends), while the equally as crushing Hellthrasher Productions in Europe will put out the CD version in January. As for the band itself, we have no idea what forces are at work here, because the members have kept their names shrouded in mystery. No matter. Whether they’re grisled vets, newcomers, or a combo of the two, they’re a damn exciting new band that’s worth following all the way to the end.

The eerie intro cut “Epipháneia” starts off with you immersed in strange emanations, rumblings of power, and liturgical choral sections that bleed into “Epistemology of Death,” a 9:22 bruiser. From the start, the track ignites and chugs, with melodies swirling in a hellish vortex, and the growing sounds threatening. The band lets the tempo simmer for the most part, speeding up in places, settling into calm in others. But all the while it’s heavy and serious, with the growls dissolving into moans, the melodies mystifying, and the track eventually finding its terror again. The band hits the gas pedal and wrecks all the way to the close, paving the way for the title cut that begins in a tornado of fire. The vocals are utterly maniacal, scraping and drawing blood, while the band ruptures the gates, storms hard, and lets every element just go off. “Mortui Vivos Docent” has a clean, mystical intro that makes it feel like walking through a misty woodlands. Then the drums starts to bustle, and the track is ripped apart, letting strange playing in to sicken your mind, punishing pounding to leave welts, and the back end to completely explode with a tidal wave of horror before finally dissolving in weird waters.

“The Serpentine Gnosis” lets drums spill in, off-kilter riffs create smoke blankets, and a slowly moving tempo cause damage while is slithers and slides. Eventually there is a burst of power, and the band slashes its way along, with maniacal growls assaulting your senses and strong riffs making soup of your bones. Darkness envelops everything, with guitars threatening underneath, the band hitting a thrashy tempo, and everything reaching yet another spiral that causes vertigo. As we wind to the end, the band clobbers you again and wreaks total havoc before letting things settle for instrumental “Dwelling on the Threshold of Tartarus.” Here, guitars glimmer, the pace hypnotizes, and everything builds to a crescendo, leading to album closer “Devouring Wrathe.” The track instantly catches fire, with the drums devastated and the vocals sounding deathier amid black melodies. Later, the vocals sound more like a shout, while the band lights up and pushes forward with vigor and violence along with these howls that bring complete savagery along with them. The final moments are threatening, mauling, and unforgiving, paying dividends on their promise of complete eradication.

Serpents Lair probably only are looking forward to ringing in a new year if destruction and madness come along with it. The effort they put forth on “Circumambulating the Stillborn” to shed blood is apparent, and that’s something that makes these seven tracks so impactful and smothering. This is a fiery, exciting new flame in the black metal world, and woe to any foolish soul who tries to extinguish that blaze.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://store.fallenempirerecords.com/product/serpents-lair-circumambulating-the-stillborn-lp

Or here: http://duplicaterecords.limitedrun.com/products/561525-serpents-lair-circumambulating-the-stillborn-lp-preorder

Or here: http://hellthrasher.com/shop/

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

And here: http://www.duplicate-records.com/

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

There was a time and place when metal, especially black metal, was supposed to sound like it was recorded in an underground lair, with zero attention paid to production values. It was war all the time, and the rougher and more abrasive your music sounded, the better it would be received by its audience.

That type of thing doesn’t happen nearly enough anymore. Perhaps we’ve all gotten over the idea that the only way to be true is to record on shitty equipment and have it sound like a blur of chaos. Or maybe it’s just an idea that’s kind of lost for the most part. California-based unit VoidCeremony are not exactly musicians who cling to polish and putting out records that are pristine. Their brand of black and death metal sounds like it was chewed up by a machine, sent into space, infected with intergalactic parasites, and shot into your ears. If you listen closely, and you must if you want to pick out nuances, you can hear the brilliance and the alien tendencies that make their music so destructive. But no doubt it’s smeared with noise and terror so much so that it often feels like you’re being crushed by a formless blur that won’t go away.

VoidCeremony formed in 2013 by former members of Portalgeist, releasing their first EP “Dystheism” a year later, and now following up with their latest collection “Cyclical Descent of Causality” that we’re discussing today. The band is comprised of the aforementioned Portalgeist members Garrett Johnson (guitars/vocals) and Jon Reider (guitars/vocals), and joining them are bassist I. Mann and C. Koryn, who both plan in the awesome death metal band Ghoulgotha. Certainly we are at the beginning of this band’s run, but there are plenty of hints at the madness that could be ahead of them simply based on the strength of this release.

The band kicks off with “Benighted By Malignant Sorrow,” a track that meets you with washed-out fury, vocals that are barely audible beneath the din, and swirling, entrancing melodies that do not make themselves obvious. The band plays in deliberate circles, allowing the song to burst apart, with vivid soloing tearing out of the space. There are tons of shifts, the band feels like it’s boring a hole through the side of a mountain, and the track comes to an abrupt end. “Sacrosanct Delusions” follows and sets everything ablaze. The growls that creep absolutely lacerate, while the band hits speed runs, all situated under a blanket of sound. The playing is tricky and mucky in spots, with the growls feeling grim, and the momentum continues on high right up to the end of the assault. Closer “Empty Grand Majesty” has some awesome leads and an emerging progressive personality, with interesting riffs sprawling out, calculated mashing causing bruises, and the sound boiling and churning. The pace later reignites, with the vocals scraping, melodies spiraling out of control, the feeling that a storm is taking over. A final dose of spacey weirdness makes this all catapult toward a bizarre finish.

VoidCeremony have the goods to make a serious dent in the metal underground, and their soot-caked, noise-infested sound should warm the hearts of those who spearheaded and participated in tape-trading culture. They are a fiery, violent band that operates in the shadows musically and definitely has the power to enjoy a vicious future. “Cyclical Descent of Causality” is one of their first building blocks, and it’s one soaked with blood and bone dust.

To buy the album, go here: http://shop.bloodharvest.se/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.bloodharvest.se/

Metal makes me think of the weekend. Every form of metal, actually. The traditional style mostly, but all metal in general. That’s probably because that’s when I listen most (something that’s been the process ever since I discovered this music), and often times that’s with a nice beer in hand, trying to forget the woes of the week.

The first time I ripped into “Journey Blind,” the second record from Boston-based traditionalists Magic Circle, I instantly was transferred to a Saturday, later at night when the dark has emerged and I’m icing my feelings. They remind me of a band I’d hear in the deeper hours of “Headbangers Ball,” when all the good stuff got played because all the hair metal fans had gone to sleep. The power of Candlemass, post-Ozzy Sabbath, St. Vitus, and bands of those ilk came rushing to mind, as well as some more recent additions to the world such as Night Demon and Dawnbringer. The music is heavy but melodic, the vocals are sung, but with an edge, and each track on the album takes you away somewhere fantastical, even if we aren’t discussing dungeons and dragons on the record.

Magic Circle first formed in 2011, with member of bands as varied as Doomriders, Innumerable Forms, Stone Dagger, and Death Evocation coming together to form this pure heavy metal machine. They rolled out their first full-length, a self-titled platter, a couple years later, and now they’re back with this sophomore offering. The band is comprised of Brendan Radigan on vocals; Chris Corry and Dan Ducas on guitars; Justin DeTore on bass; and Q behind the drums. Their sound is totally natural and effective, making it sound like they actually recorded this during late nights in, say, 1983. Instead, they just have a grasp on what makes fine traditional heavy metal, which they show you on “Journey Blind.”

The title track opens this opus, with keys initially swirling, giving off a fantasy feel, before launching into doomy guitars that charge up and singing that has grit and passion. The fires are tended to by the band, with strong lead guitar work, galloping and chugging, and a finish that’s just killer. “The Damned Man” is crunchy and heavy from the start, with the singing commanding, and the band achieving a true vintage feel. The guitars chew and glimmer, while the singing feels grimier, and a quick burst of acoustic melodies pave the way for a crushing finish. “A Ballad for the Vultures” breathes doom winds again, plotted slower but still heavy, as the band stomps at a calculated pace. That pace doesn’t last, as the band rips the song open later, with faster playing, the vocals practically spat out, and the soloing spurting burning lava and glory. “Lightning Cage” starts with acoustic flourishes before the charging begins, ripping into a heavy, catchy shuffle. They keep the storm brewing throughout the track, with the band hitting the gas pedal to the end.

“Ghosts of the Southern Front” feeds off the energy of the previous cut, injecting a classic rock feel into the song and again reaching for the genre’s deeply entrenched roots. “I have lived my whole life with my soul asleep,” Radigan wails during this epic, with the band continuing to push the drama and volume, and the pace consistently mauling. The guitar work gives the track an awesome aura, making it easy to get lost in their creation, and they renew their vigor in the cut’s final moments, plowing everything in front of them. “Grand Deceivers” trudges menacingly, with some damn tasty guitar work and really heavy sections. The singing drives the verses, with dual guitar lines meeting up and creating one voice, and the track burning brightly right before it fades. Closer “Antediluvian” throws punches right away, giving off a 1970s charge as the riffs start to bubble. A brief period of calm leads right into tumult, with the band breaking the earth beneath them with their playing, and the vocals sounding dirtier. As they finish up, the playing bristles and singes, and the track makes its final impacts before fading away.

Magic Circle have crafted one of the more enjoyable classic, honest heavy metal records of the year, an album that feeds of the origins of the genre, as well as its majesty and glory. “Journey Blind” should excite the graybeards who have been around since the Sabbath/Priest/Maiden heyday, and even those who came later who are into this sound’s rebirth. This is a damn fun listen that will get you no matter what day of the week you’re hearing. But preferably, it’s late night on Saturday.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.20buckspin.com/collections/music

For more on the label, go here: http://www.20buckspin.com/

The year is getting long in the tooth, and patience and interest are waning. There remains a lot of music left to hear (or deposit into the scrap heap), and it’s not hard to walk away from something just from pure saturation. But the end of 2015 also is offering something different than most years, that being a handful of really interesting releases that keep the remaining juices flowing a little longer.

One of those comes from Nordic black metal outfit Saligia (named mnemonically after the Latin translations of the seven deadly sins), who return with their powerful, often times demented new record “Fønix.” They may hail from the land that fired up the heart of the Second Wave, but Saligia certain trudge their own path. This very much is a black metal record, but it’s disorienting, interesting, and at times really weird. No paint by numbers, no rigid rules, and just pure furnace-ready expression. It’s definitely will grab you and unleash periods of violence, but they create atmosphere and odd ambiance that are elements just as important as the beatings.

“Fønix” is the band’s second full-length, with the first “Sic Transit Gloria Mundi” coming in 2011. The band first bubbled to earth in 2006, unleashing two demo recordings that preceded their debut long player. An EP “Lvx Aeternae” followed in 2013, and now here we are, with this fiery, strange new record that will turn over and over in your head. At the helm is long-time creator Ahzari, who handles guitars, bass, and vocals (that element is one that separates them from most in this realm), and with him is drummer Vegard M. Berg, who joined the lineup permanently a few years ago after being a live player with the band. The idea is these creations are from visions and dreams Ahzari has had floating in his sub-conscious, and that certainly registers as often times these tracks feel like they originate from a nightmarish void.

“Fire: Tear Apart the Veil” chugs open, with the vocals as half growl, half shriek, always easy to decipher. That’s what sets apart Ahzari’s vocals in that they certainly aren’t a traditional style (he comes off more as off-kilter storyteller), but they work perfectly with the music. The song starts to break apart as it develops, with the pace really galloping ahead and Ahzari wailing, “Our father is death!” Soloing spirals, the savagery builds, and we’re on to “Revelation: A Sign Reveals.” There, disorienting melodies arrive, with warbling vocals bubbling and the pace boiling. Furious guitars swelter, with the vocals decimating your senses and the melodies swaggering. Things get unhinged, as strange emanations arrives, the drums are crushed, and total violence rampages to the finish. “Abyss: In Darkness Forge Alight” thrashes heavily, with the tempo penetrating and mashing, the crazed vocals rushing, and the band causing dizzying madness. The final minutes really ramp up the intensity, with Ahzari howling maniacally and the music smearing and swirling.

“Voices: Her Hidden Darkness” blisters and grinds you in its gears, later injecting a cold, watery undercurrent that sends chills before terror strikes the heart. Ahzari digs deep to blister your flesh, while the guitars take a slurry, drunken twist, causing blurred vision and vertigo. Weird, clean singing slips in, compounding the calm, and then the track blows apart, with shrieks raining, the pace switching continuously, and the end burning away. Closer “Fønix: Flame Coronation” is the longest cut at 10:08, with a clean, mesmerizing start that takes its time and lets the drama build. Doomy thrashing arrives later, with the vocals tearing open the scene, the pace punishing, and the music flowing fluidly. The guitar work commands and compels, with a yowled, wordless melody slathered over top, and the band letting their fiery transmission fades into the night.

Thankfully Saligia have found a way to inject some ingenuity into black metal and leave us with something that makes a serious dent, especially mentally. “Fønix” definitely is not an end-year dump of an album and instead is vital, striking, and flooding with chaos. The more time you spend with this thing, the further you’ll go down the rabbit hole of this band’s warped imagination.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.van-records.de/

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