There are a lot of dudes running around saying a lot of heinous shit to women, and that’s not exactly a change from the norm, but there’s a noticeable uptick in resistance. There’s a fundamental misunderstanding by some brainless men that they’re the dominant sex when, meanwhile, the forces of absolute evil and the female spirits are carving their blades and fully preparing to fight back with blood and fire.

This brings us to Swedish black metal force Völva, who offer up their debut full-length “Desires Profane” on an increasingly sickened public. This 10-track, 35-minute crusher pays homage to the second wave of black metal, keeping melody and insanity as close comrades as the band—vocalist/bassist Hedonistica, guitarist/vocalist Vittra, drummer/vocalist Skuld—expresses their satanic feminism and support for freedom for women’s body, actions, and dark spiritual connections. These suddenly emboldened men? Fuck around and find out. Guessing Völva only will be too happy to introduce you to the blade and pay homage to the most sinister forces in existence.  

“The Tower” is sooty, bass unfurling as vicious howls snarl over infernal melodies. The chaos continues to fester, speed and blood uniting and spattering, the playing folding into black. “Walk With Me” storms as the guitars dizzy, throaty howls making impact, a vivid blaze making breathing a chore. Shrieks punish as the pace drives even harder, steely darkness burning off in noxious smoke. “Expulsion of the Flesh” is delirious, making everything spin out of control, bristling as the shrieks maul. Black metal chaos erupts, the guitar heat becoming insurmountable, melodies drilling deep into the earth. “Inverted Cross” enters in a violent drum roll, strong riffs flexing muscle as the screams ripple with intensity. A storming power numbs as madness spreads like wildfire, driving hard into complete insanity. “Never Forgive” scuffs with fuzzed-out riffs and thick doom, howls scraping as the punishment becomes overwhelming. Howls torch as hypnotic soundwaves rupture veins, the playing suddenly battering slowly, but heavily, strange clean notes tingling behind the wall of devastation sending blinding lights.

“The Serpent” begins with guitars torpedoing, the vibe feeling both violent and catchy, gushing with maximum power. Savagery continues to gain momentum, the guitars numbing your senses, everything burning into oblivion. “Perpetual Putrefaction” chugs, ferocious shrieks sending seismic waves, every element working to gut you. Shrieks turn bloodier as the band thrashes heavily, added doomy corrosion eating away at flesh. “Asmodeus” attacks, battering with a bloodthirst, a gnarly, feral tempo opening up flesh. A black metal storm strikes and suffocates, a tornadic meltdown flattening everything in its wake, everything coming to a ferocious end. “Salvation” hangs in the air, stinging the senses before racing recklessly, the howls blowtorching as the pace explodes further. The playing turns bodies to dust, heated leads convert metal to liquid, and monstrous roars fold spines. Closer “Vagabond” is a cover of Swedish duo Nordman’s “Vandraren,” a rousing, ultra-electrified version that rampages with effusive personality and sinister gusts, turning this track into a blackened hurricane that swallows you whole.

There are a lot of bold motherfuckers running around saying some dumb shit, and feeling is if they run into Völva, they’re going to taste their own blood. “Desires Profane” celebrates the satanic and the feminine with blazing glory, plying you with black metal that leans melodic but never betrays its heathen spirit. This is a show of true freedom of the body and mind, and rue the day whoever tries to prevent their decadent expression.

For more on the band, go here: https://volva-bm.bandcamp.com/album/desires-profane

To buy the album or for more on the label, go here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/music

With Halloween having past, the more mysterious months on the calendar seemingly have faded. Yet, with the onset of the climate warming, the colder days just now are getting here at least in limited form. It’s still more than passable to take on music that makes you think of the more morose and chilling elements of our fragile existence.

“Sorceries of Sanguine & Shadow,” the second record from black metal duo Pestilent Hex, arrives pretty late in the year, a place where records often go unnoticed, which is damn-near criminal. We still get a slew of good stuff as the year begins to close, including this seven-track, 46-minute destroyer. The band—vocalist M. Malignant (Corpsessed, Profetus) and multi-instrumentalist L. Oathe (Convocation, Desolate Shrine)—intertwines their darkness into myths and superstitions, harrowing dreams, and thick levels of mystery translated through a vicious assault of black metal that adds wickedness into the mix.

“Nocturne” is a brief intro track, morbid, cold, and classical, flowing into “Sciomancy and Sortilege” that begins enraged. Guitars scorch as savagery reigns, orchestral flourishes blossoming as speed and carnage emerge, spaciousness spreading among the stars. Keys glimmer as devastation dominates, the playing stirring as a rousing finish boils blood. “Through Mirrors Beyond” rips open, shrieks raining down like razorblades, melodic gusts taking things to the next level, washing into viciousness. The playing continues to stir, making the sky spin, swirling into tornadic winds. “Of Hexcraft and Laws Three-fold” detonates and starts with screams rampaging, the humidity thickening as the bruising sets in. Guitars spiral as the temperatures skyrocket, the playing engulfing as the melodies explode, guitars churning as everything races to a mangling end.

“A Spectral Voyage” burns and dizzies, shrieks gutting as the stormy pace becomes a bigger factor, the pace picking up noticeably. Howls curdle as melodic slashes leave marks across your back, driving through bizarre cork screws, morbid howls dissolving with a slashing gust. “Threnody of the Moon Ascendant” tingles, dark howls exploding, the chaos feeling frosty and unwelcoming, blistering roars sending chills down your spine. The growls engorge as the playing cascades, whipping into a frenzy with an intense synth wall taking you out. Closer “Sanguine Gnosis” slowly melts as your brain swells, growls boiling in dark and dreary waters, the band setting into scorched earth. Organs drive through the atmosphere, a pastoral feel chilling flesh, the lava rushing to the surface and breaking through rock. The playing wrenches as the keys drizzle, blurring into endless energy.

Strange waves are in the air on “Sorceries of Sanguine & Shadow,” Pestilent Hex’s dramatic second offering that injects a sense of darkness and adventure into the air. It does align well with these darker days, colder nights, when enrapturing spirits are at our doorsteps. This is a brutal way to take that trip, but it’s also something that will make your mind continue to create morbid visions as the record plays out.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://debemurmorti.aisamerch.com/band/pestilent-hex

Or here (UK): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/564-pestilent-hex

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

Families are strange. For the most part, we’re born into them, with no say over who raises us, attached to a lineage that becomes our own whether we like that or not. I’ve had a relatively normal family, but things have slipped out of the cracks over the years that were long-held secrets that weren’t even that controversial. For other families, those unearthed truths can have more devastating effects.

“The Last Will and Testament” is the 14th record from legendary Swedish progressive death metal warriors Opeth, and this is a concept piece based in post-World War I where a family learns the hidden truths of its freshly deceased patriarch. Yes, let’s get the obvious out of the way: Mikael Åkerfeldt is growling again after having spent the past four releases singing purely in his honey-rich clean voice. But growls do not make a record. The music has to be there too, and there’s a ferocity and mystery back that the band—rounded out by guitarist/backing vocalist Fredrik Åkesson, bassist Martin Mendez, keyboard player/backing vocalist Joakim Svalberg, and new drummer/percussionist Waltteri Väyrynen, who adds a major spark—uses to plaster their sound with electricity. They sound hungry and alive. The record also features guest spots by Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull, who handles the spoken sections and, of course, flute; Europe vocalist Joey Tempest; and Mikael’s daughter Mirjam, who also provides dialog. The story itself unravels over each song, the family’s father’s unknown life unfurling, including a stunning secret revealed in the final track.

“§1” opens with footsteps across as room, the opening riff tangling and looping, Åkerfeldt’s clean singing morphing into death roar. “Alas, my time is at an end, I have wallowed in self-pity, and I confess to you as part of my final plight,” Åkerfeldt roars, moving into a weaving, warped section of smeared synths, haunting singing rousing apparition, children chattering as oblivion calls. “§2” enters in funereal keys, the growls battering with the call of, “A dreadful daughter of wretched martyr, sick to marrow and to bone,” some clues slipping out. Anderson’s narration makes flesh crawl, growls snarling as keys spiral, blending into cool acoustics, singing spreading over a dramatic sweep. “§3” is punchy and proggy, deep singing layering, strings swelling before daring and dashing, guitars catching fire as smoke chokes. “Carnal shame, a secret treaty, the lovers bond,” Åkerfeldt calls, the calm exploding into a beast that claws to the end. “§4” has the bass slinking low, growls bursting through the crust, light and dark entangling. The track gets chambery and elegant, Anderson’s flute piping, the guitars then exploding with lava. The playing brutalizes as the singing picks up as a gale-force wind, exiting into spacey strangeness.

“§5” opens in gorgeous strings, a daring trip as the singing slips in, the playing then crushing with aplomb. Growls engorge as the playing makes blood rush, the guitars searing through steel, strange claps bleating as brutality blooms. The heat intensifies quickly, guitars taking off, progressive waters lapping the shore, final eruptions spitting bits of bone. “§6” has keys layering as the drums awaken, the singing chilling before the growls explode as rhythmic stream bubbles. Drums encircle as a prog fury ensues, keys blazing into the night, illuminating the ground as the guitars work up a heavy lather, Åkerfeldt wailing, “God is watching over you, he will guide the way, he is a river of grace through the barren state of our time.” “§7” begins with guitars cutting, organs spilling, Anderson reading the matriarch’s will (not sure if it’s supposed to be in his voice or whoever is reading the document), growls crunching and wrenching as keys flood in a tornado of grays. “In a flock of kings, I am iconoclast, broken bloodline, seeping to emptiness,” Åkerfeldt jolts, the playing slowly lurching, glimmering as hope fades. Closer “A Story Never Told” is the shocking plot twist. Guitars melt as keys soften, Åkerfeldt’s singing paying the heartbreak, emotions at a high point. “A story never told and waiting in the skies, a man’s withered heart on hold, his heiress wears a stranger’s eyes,” he sings, the guitars catching fire, lives crumbling to ashes, the screen blackening for end credits.

Yes, the growls returning already has become a major story with the arrival of “The Last Will and Testament,” but don’t count out how vibrant and channeled Opeth sound here, reminding who so many of us were entranced by this force for so long. This is a record that, when it ends on your first listen, you’ll immediately want to go back into it as new wrinkles are revealed, the record’s own secrets coming out of the cracks. It’s great to have this version of the band back, one that reminds us why they’re death metal royalty but also doesn’t abandon their progressive rock years. That’s something I hope lasts well into the future and whatever comes next.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://shopus.reigningphoenixmusic.com/

Or here: https://atomicfirerecords.omerch.com/

Or here (Europe): https://shopeu.reigningphoenixmusic.com/

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

Nov. 20 is Trans Day of Remembrance, when we pay respect to all of the trans people who gave their lives so those who came after them perhaps could have an easier life. We just elected the same fascist we did in 2016, proving America is made of memory-lapsed people who only can remember their owns needs, their neighbors be fucked. Protecting trans people has become an even bigger goal, and it already was paramount.

Riff Merchant Records always step up to the fucking plate, and they’re releasing a crushing, yet experimental split that pairs Sunrot and Body Void on a collection that benefits Black Trans Liberation for all digital sales. This collection pairs Jersey-based sludge/doom killers Sunrot—vocalist/noisemaker Lex Santiago, guitarists Christopher Eustaquio and Rob Gonzalez, bassist Ross Bradley, drummer Alex Dobrowolski—with Vermont sludge/doom noise killers Body Void—vocalist/guitarist/bassist/synth player Willow Ryan, electronic wizard/sampler/live bassist Janys-Iren Faughn, drummer Edward Holgerson—that always finds a way to erode your senses. Nov. 20 was chosen, by the way, to honor Chanelle Pickett, a trans Blak woman who was murdered that day in 1995, as well as Rita Hester and Monique Thomas, who both died in 1998 after being slain. Hundreds of trans people are murdered every year, mostly trans women, and according to a report posted on congress.gov, trans murders nearly had doubled between the years of 2017 and 2021, 73 percent of those killings committed with a gun. With the incoming regime, this issue likely will grow, among many other factors that are sure to affect the trans community.

“Still Burning” is the Sunrot opener and is a bath in pure noise, having it swim in the air around your head and into your senses, heading into “Shapeshifter” where an industrial poisoning greets you right away. Screams punish as the fuzzy doom batters your psyche, molten and sludgy madness forming a sort of black goo that bubbles toward you, spirited speed bursting from corners. The vocals smear as the heat creates layers, the power continuing to build until a slowly throttling gust bruises bone. Closer “Kill the Cop” is drenched in noise, a warped voice continuing to call the command that’s in the title. It continues to get more psychotic from a sound standpoint, the call out rippling, ending in a rapid charge, electricity and a relentless haze becoming an imposing cloud.

Body Void enters with “Assimilation System” that crumbles into a sound cloud, the playing pounding away, the shrieks scraping at the inside of your skull. Doomy energy boils over as the playing comes off like a heat ray, the carnage jolting relentlessly, drubbing as the noises continue to scathe. Screams rip and repeat, destruction spreading its wings, dissolving into “Crown of Fire” that has energy vibes hovering and pulsating. The frozen gasp of cosmic isolation grips tight, the dark crunch spreading as all sound falls victim to a black hole.

It’s more important now that we protect trans people all over as fascism is on the rise, and hatred for these folks never seems to die. Sunrot and Body Void have been at the forefront of underground doom and sludge bands that are fighting for trans rights and freedom. These are two battering bands that let their anger and disgust boil over to crush hatred, and hopefully this collection helps raise more awareness for the trans community and galvanizes supporters to demand safety and equality.

For more on Sunrot, go here: https://www.facebook.com/sunrotmusic/

For more on Body Void, go here: https://www.facebook.com/bodyvoid/

To buy the album, go here: https://riffmerchant.bandcamp.com/album/sunrot-body-void-split

For more on the label, go here: https://riffmerchant.bandcamp.com/

The horrors of existence seem to know no bounds when it comes to putting humanity through the goddamn ringer repeatedly. It’s only natural to go toward macabre thoughts and nightmare scenarios when we try to find ways to emotionally deal with the hand we’ve been dealt, so at this point, the more profane the better.

Australian death crushers Gutless are only too happy to step to the plate with their wrenching new record “High Impact Violence,” their debut offering. Over eight tracks and 26 minutes, the band—vocalist/guitarist Tom Caldwell, guitarist Allan Stacey, bassist Joe Steele, drummer Ollie Ballantyne—conjures death metal that should have you thinking of the formative years in the 1990s, making brutality and bloodshed the goals. You won’t explore space, there are no progressive movements, and all you’ll find is pure death metal that twists your limbs into unspeakable positions.

“Bashed and Hemorrhaging” is a burly gore fest when it starts, growls spat over gnarly chaos, the ugliness spreading along with chugging guitars. The menace continues over bloody power, the leads squealing off into a tire fire. “Beyond the Catacombs” is monstrous, animalistic growls punishing, a mauling force moving forward with reckless abandon. The pace then grows suffocating, the leads wailing amid skull-smashing force, roars crushing any final glimmers of hope. “Scalpel Obsession” dominates, storming in with relentless intensity, roars breathing extra doses of hostility. The guitars sprawl as things get thrashier, growls gutting in a horrifying mist, tearing out guts and leaving them to rot in the sun. “Avalanche of Viscera” mauls as howls belch, and the pace pours on destruction, a total death metal assault that leaves you dizzy. The bass chugs as the thrust further detonates, guitars swelter, and the heat grows unmanageable and thick.

“Galvanized” opens with a quote from “The Frighteners” and then it’s onto muddy rhythm and guitars pouring lava, growls ripping as the pressure builds. The violence escalates from there, guitars spewing heat, lumbering as they blacken eyes along the way. “Carved Into Existence” has a fiery start but then it turns playfully vicious, growls killing as the guitars turn the heat up even further, making the room spin. Body shots continue to land right on the money, and then guitars char, cymbals are crushed, and the last blast removes heads. “Gore God” charges, the growls burying, guitars digging in and then taking off. The brutality works into a lather as a menacing tempo darkens your heart, the carnage slowly mangling, dragging you to a bruising defeat. Closer “Viral Infection” pulverizes, the growls eating into flesh, the battery increasing its power as heated leads wash over prone flesh. Guttural and mashing, the playing adds to the misery, leads squealing as humidity spikes, the strains of a clip from “Videodrome” leading to your ultimate demise.

Now’s as good a time as any to dive as deeply as possible into death metal’s unforgiving confines, and Gutless are more than happy to show you the worst, bloodiest parts of the terrain. “High Impact Violence” is the perfect title for this record as it’s purely that, with no added bells or whistles necessary. This is a complete bludgeoning, one that might be a welcome distraction from the horrors of reality.

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

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

Or here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/gutless-high-impact-violence-lp/

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

And here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/

With so much darkness and negativity that surround us, a beam of hope would be welcome. I write this before the U.S. presidential election knowing it’ll run right after the election, and the word “hope” might have a much different context then. But the present is what matters, and it would be nice to know there’s light on the other side of the battle.

Icelandic dreamers Sólstafir are trying to be that speck of illumination in the storm, and their great new record “Hin helga kvöl” is a revelation. This, their seventh, is their most adventurous yet, which is saying something because this band has been anything but stationary musically. Here, the band—vocalist/guitarist Adalbjorn Tryggvason, guitarist Saethor “Gringo” Saethorsson, bassist Svavar Traustason, drummer Hallgrimur “Grimsi” Hallgrimsson—branches even further from black metal and adds more straight-up rock elements, a touch of Western dust, post-rock dynamics, and even a few rounds of brutality. This is their most diverse collection, and it’s one that will lure you easily back to it repeatedly, with you only too happy to follow.

“Hún andar” starts lush. and then it pushes into fluidity and punchy melodies, the strong singing making waves, even if the language barrier prevents me from fully understanding. There’s a gush that whisks into the next terrain, energy bursting from corners, fading into exhaust. “Hin helga kvöl” slowly unfurls as it electrifies, black metal-style fires blazing, equally volatile singing answering the bell and splattering. The leads cause lines to freeze, and then the whole thing rampages, the playing coming to a dangerous spiral, turning fully into madness. “Blakkrakki” has guitars chugging, the signing gliding, your nerve endings quivering. Tryggvason wails the title over the simple, yet effective chorus, a spirited gust picking up the pace, a full-hearted rush blasting into the final moments. “Sálumessa” is immersed with darkness and echoes, the singing exploring as the pathway gets a little gentler, working through a fog and aligning with shadows. The guitar work thickens and blankets everything in ash, the moodiness increases, and the cold winds beckon, pulling you into the heart of the night.

“Vor ás” is hazy and hangs in the atmosphere, a propulsive call and response making blood rush, the pace sweating as the humidity swarms. The playing gets more aggressive, generating smoke, grittier singing from Tryggvason meeting with Erna Hrönn Ólafsdóttir’s backing vocals that add a new texture. The playing delves into a classic rock feel at moments, adding some nostalgia, ending in a blaze. “Freygátan” opens with pianos dripping and softer singing, the pace gradually growing heartier as it builds strength. Guitars fall like sheets before the track bursts, the leads leaning into Floyd-like psychedelic dreaming, then everything rumbles until falling to ash. “Grýla” is dirtier, the tempo swelling as the drums menace, the singing digging deeper into your chest as the sojourn extends. A strange warmth, giving off a dusty Western vibe, bubbles to the surface, making the track feel both catchy and homey, storming out in melody. “Nú mun ljósið deyja” ripples with black metal energy, the howls ravaging as speed and viciousness become major factors. The path turns hypnotic, melodies battering away, screams rippling and causing seismic waves. Closer “Kuml (forspil, sálmur, kveðja)” emerges amid eerie chants and an aura that sends chills, synth and sax splashing new colors. The cosmic stretch gets more intense as fuzzy power bubbles over, elegant sax sets the mood for the end, and you feel like you’re in the clutches of a late-night fever dream, your hallucinations getting the best of you.

Sólstafir’s excursion into more varied sounds and realms that exist beyond just black metal is growing increasingly ambitious and alluring, which “Hin helga kvöl” proves outright. With the temps about to drop (or so we’re led to believe) and more interesting dusk skies ahead, this is perfect music for that moment, the retreat from light into black. The emotion, darkness, and increaaing light built into this record play off each other magically, and it’s a record that reveals more of itself every listen, which should be an impetus to go back again and again.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://centurymedia.store/

Or here (International): https://www.cmdistro.de/

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

We often brand records as adventures on this site, and that’s a good description, if I might pat my own ass. Sometimes the music you’re hearing is more cinematic than most, or it makes you take a physical or mental journey that you didn’t expect, and that helps it stand apart from a lot of the other music we hear.

As for The Mosaic Window, a project helmed by vocalist/guitarist/bassist Andrew Steven Brown, their albums aren’t just a collection of songs, but conceptual pieces that stitch front to back. On the new record “Hemasanctum,” the entire human experience is detailed end to end over eight tracks and 42 minutes, the beginning exiting from the womb and the finale detailing eyes closing forever. Brown gets drum work from Gabe Seeber, and the legendary Andy LaRocque (King Diamond) adds solos to this record that is thought-provoking and punishing from a musical standpoint, but that puts a new perspective on existence, including parental relationships, life milestones, loss, mental issues, etc. The emotional certainly bubbles underneath this record, making it a heavy document no matter which way you consider it.

“Incantation to Summon the Unstable” opens with a child crying, the beginning of life, and that eeriness is gutted by guitars rampaging, roars smashing and adding savagery to the melody. The leads go off, the pace dusting brains, driving through mashing drums that end the track in chaos. “The Pounding of Hooves” is equally fiery, demonic howls picking apart your mental faculties, detached speaking sprawling, going into dramatic and horrifying corners. Guitars surge as throaty howls land blows, speed igniting as sung lines change the texture a bit, dashing into darkness. “Black Bethlehem” starts off on a folkish note, then black metal-style mania attacks, the leads increasing your heart rate, the pace heading into slower, still-punishing heaviness. Shrieks rain down as the path grows more vicious, guitars taking off and leaving you heaving in their exhaust. “Turibulum” absolutely soars, guitars blinding and melting, sounds flooding as the growls take a turn for the ugly. The pace trudges and pounds, the drums destroy, then a hazy bed of guitars creates an impenetrable fog that envelopes all.

“Ash Like Anvils” brings a flood of guitars and a melodic crush, and then things turn calculated, molten, and even a little bit dreamy. Doomy waters wash over the cracks in the surface as the pace picks up steam, rampaging into a snarling energy, driving into the void with relentless force. “Night Disease” has the leads swimming and then tingling, punchy and mucky rhythmic pulses thashing, everything eventually eroding into a gutting force. Growls boil as the guitars race, pained howls strike deep, and everything slips into a disarming echo dimension. “Shrouded in Pain” is the most emotionally urgent song of the bunch, one that tackles depression and its debilitating effects. Through chugs and howls, pleas are made for understanding, a helping hand, as the narrator identifies with the pain that cannot easily be soothed. The pace is stomping and impassioned, pulling its way through the thorns to a place where healing hopefully can begin. We opened the record with birth, and we end with death, “Hymn to Silence the Light” running 8:14 and easing in before erupting into fire. Melodic leads char as growls slash, speed becoming a bigger factor as we move along. The vibe grows wrenching and mournful, the final moments ticking away, cries grasping for solace, slowly burning into nothingness.

The Mosaic Window over two full-lengths have shown a much different approach to heavy music, one draped in humanity, and “Hemasanctum” continues along that same path. The journey through the beginning and end of life and everything sustained in between should be something any introspective listened can use to mine emotional gems while also being mentally and physically sustained by the metallic power packed into these songs. This is a record to which most people can relate, though if you’re just here to get wrecked, you won’t walk away disappointed.  

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/p/The-Mosaic-Window-100094717845304/

To buy the album, go here: https://willowtip.com/bands/details/the-mosaic-window.aspx

For more on the label, go here: https://willowtip.com/home.aspx

Metal fans have no arguments about not being educated in their music, as from the start of this thing, bands have been reinterpreting history in their art. Iron Maiden spent their entire career being a world-touring history book, and plenty of other bands have dug back in the annals to tell a story long passed that can be applied to the present.

Black metal explorers Ershetu already visited the Mayan culture on their debut record, but for go around two “Yomi,” the band—multi-instrumentalist Sacr, conceptual mastermind Void, vocalist/bassist/guitarist Vindsval (Blut Aus Nord), drummer/percussionist Intza Roca—visits Japan and delves into Shintoism, the ancient national religion that originated in 1,000 BCE and still exists today. But this isn’t a straight-up black metal record in the traditional sense. The band incorporated instruments from the region to also color these tracks with a touch of the country in which these stories originated.

“Ketsurui” begins with water dripping, Japanese instrumentation flooding the senses, and then a hypnotic, mystical energy unfolds, feeling both fiery and cloudy. Shrieks spread as a fantasy feel enraptures, choral calls swim, and everything blurs out in mystery.  “Jikoku” also dawns with strings, and then a storming, ferocious force come to life, vicious and stirring melodies rampage, the atmosphere swirls above you. Howls wrench as a monstrous pace engulfs, leads sweeping into arresting orchestration and a stunning end. “Sekiryō” shimmers with gong smashing, strings riveting, piano keys drizzling. Roars storm as the playing quivers, angling into a sound swarm, foggy and spirited folk instruments adding to the ambiance, everything succumbing to the eye of a storm.

“Abikyōkan” also feels watery as it dawns, chants form a cloud overhead, and then the growls add a sense of menace, guitars gaining steam and increasing the heat. An emotional gust takes you by force, punishing as the vocals get heavier before a calm gathers and pulls everything into a pocket of serenity. “Kagutsuchi” is powerful and bruising, the strings gliding as chorals flood, eventually ripping open and stretching exposed muscle. The pace pushes and pulls, group vocals cause a haunting vision, and then guitars race anew, jarring and destroying before ending in woodwinds. Closer “Nenokatasukuni” surrounds with drums pounding, mysticism spreading widely, and then the heart of the track is torn from its chest and left exposed. There are doomy sequences and portions that aim to hammer, speedy and spacious parts aligning, the playing cascading hard. The howls multiply, softer instruments add a cloudy essence, and everything fades into chimes and bubbling water.

Ershetu’s sojourns into different ancient traditions not only have made their music interesting thematically, but it has allowed them to embrace sounds and spirits not often common in heavy music. “Yomi” is an adventure from front to back, something that sounds nothing like most of that you’ve heard this year but also doesn’t just stick out for being novelty. The music is immersive and quaking, taking on traits of the source material and becoming a greater whole that is equal parts fascinating and ferocious. 

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://debemurmorti.aisamerch.com/

Or here (Europe): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/12-eshop

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

Black metal obviously is perfectly suited for the winter, with the frigid weather and blanketing snowfalls that we don’t really get anymore where I live. Stay tuned for more original opinions. But Autumn is starting to feel like a great time for this style as decay spreads, cold winds whisper, and we can don our long sleeves again.

Cleveland black metal punishers Burial Oath feel a little more fiery than freezing, and their crushing third record “The Cycles of Suffering” is upon us, increasing the temperatures when we should be getting ready to shiver. The follow-up to 2018’s “Subjugation of the Bastard Son” ups the ante in a ridiculous way, storming out the gates and never looking back until all blood is shed. The band—vocalist Mor Grish, guitarist D, bassist R, drummer JV—uses seven tracks, and an economical 31 minutes to put you to the test, delivering destructive black metal that isn’t trying to arrest you with forestal imagery or mountain ranges and instead want to batter you to the pavement.

“Void Hunter” is humid when it starts, and then the playing blisters, melodic shrieks draped over the fury. Blackened hell erupts as the riffs rise and the vocals retch, letting the ferocious storm pummel and slowly slip away. “Deathbringer” delivers steaming riffs as an eruption pulls you under, the fires quickly lathering and foaming blood. The guitars enter a sudden fog, the playing then taking a turn and wrenching muscle, fires exploding and spitting chaos along the way. “The Cycles of Suffering” opens with ripping shrieks, a barnstorming pace that gets your attention in a hurry, and then some cooler tones let nerve endings tingle. The devastation continues at a punishing level, melodic guitars swimming through the muck, the drums slaying to a stunning finish.

“Howling Promethean Winds” is spacious but also mangling, guitars stampeding and making you see stars, leaving spatter behind. A blinding assault flattens as the screams envelope, guitars cascading to a spacious end. “Shadows Suspended in Dust” explodes as the drums gut, guitars sting, and the howls aim to bury you alive. Vicious blazes explode, but then calm takes over for a stretch, dripping but also hovering, then electricity rocketing, screams rippling to a burning end. “Pagan Fires” unloads with spiraling guitars, the drums rippling, screams mashing and creating brush burns. The force continues to squeeze, black metal-style melodies run roughshod, and everything comes to an immersive end. Closer “Kingdom of Fire” tears open, again digging back into the most evil forms of sound, speed crushing and doing so relentlessly. Grim howls churn as the vice grip only tightens around your throat, violent guitars slashing and dissolving into echo.

Burial Oath’s brand of black metal isn’t flashy necessarily, but it’s well played and will leave welts on the side of your head. “The Cycles of Suffering” is a massive step forward for this band (not that they weren’t firing on all cylinders before), and every second of this thing drills deep into your skull and makes you relish the pain. This is a slashing, fun listen, a record that hopefully will open more eyes and ears to their death-splashed power.

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

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

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

Winter is coming. Sorry. Irresistible and lazy. But it actually is as well. It’s nearly the end of October as I write this, and it went up to 82 one day this week. So, excuse me for the tired joke for a season we barely get to enjoy anymore. Climate is just fine, though. But, I assume it will get here at some sort, and the first blanket of snow is much anticipated.

Paysage D’Hiver, the one-man project long helmed by Wintherr, make it feel like you’re locked into the most frigid season, and that’s definitely the intention. On the band’s third official full-length (amid of sea of demos and other releases) “Die Berge” (the mountains), we get more than a season’s worth of blizzard-blinding black metal that at times feels like it gets muted out by a roaring storm. In a good way. Over seven tracks and an insanely generous hour and 43 minutes, Wintherr pours on relentless pressure, sometimes making you feel like you’re locked in a dream state, deep into the woods, your bones shaking as you work your way up the mountainside, on your way to find your place in the universe.  

“Urgrund” opens this beast in the midst of an absolute whiteout, central forest, no clear identifying marks, yet you move headfirst into riffs that fall like sheets, howls that echo in the background. Melodies lap as the playing bruises and brawls, a hypnotic force that stretches itself in various forms across the entire record. The playing dives deeper into the murk, going harder as everything darkens, howls crumbling as the metallic forces tangle, picking up a storming force before crumbling away. “Verinnerlichung” spirals in your mind before the gates bust open, a blinding fury taking you over mentally and physically. The playing is rampaging and tornadic, winds picking up and sucking air from your lungs, causing you to stare aimlessly like you’re driving through a blizzard. The pulverization only amplifies from there, wrenching with penetrating energy, a black haze unfurling before you, robbing you of sight. Clouds spread and tingle, the elements slowly unraveling, dissolving into the first part of a triptych, “Transzendenz I.” Frigidity is at its apex, the playing fully engulfing and creating relentless dizziness, creaky words accompanying full-throated howls. Suddenly, you’re in the clutches of a trance, the blackened sights making visions tough to grapple with, immersive melodies flooding and immediately icing over. Guitars jolt as your extremities tingle, leading you into the next devastating phase.

“Transzendenz II” is the shortest track here, still a hefty 7:51, crawling through ice and ash, a suffocating pace adding pressure, demonic howls ringing out into the night. Melodies slip into mesmerizing dreams, guitars gazing as they settle into its shallow frosty tomb that is “Transzendenz III” that chills you to the bone. Guitars buzz as the tempo meanders through a long, sprawling instrumental intro that continues to churn into frozen patterns. Guitars numb and make your brain wander through an ongoing loops of riffs, continuing to sprawl as the fury hisses, slipping into uncomfortable coldness, fading into the heart of the woods. “Ausstieg” is first of a pair of mammoth tracks that end the record, running 17:56 and beginning with crushing howls and savagery screaming from the eye of the storm. The pace is stunning, the melodies arresting, drilling as shrieks wrench, the swirling tempo easily pulling in prone bodies. Howls rush as the sense of dreamscape amplifies, a new rush of chaos blowing to the forefront and into 17:28-long closer “Gipfel” that begins with a mournful pace. An instrumental gaze stretches as far as the eye can see, the playing slowly swarming, the guitars chugging, glorious synth steaming through the thick inches of ice. Guitars stretch and burn through the gloom, the tension slowly dissipating as guitars tease and enter into squalls, bowing to winter majesty.

“Die Berge” certainly feels like the culmination of a restless journey, piling on the elements that could threaten the effort, often making seeing and breathing a task. Over these 103 minutes, Paysage D’Hiver and its creator conjure a record that pulls you into deep winter as you try to make your way to the peak, your mission the only thing that can bring you the connection to nature and the world you require. It’s a record that is an immersive experience, something that cannot be fully comprehended piecemeal, a venture into which you throw yourself fully, not ending until the final notes fade into the darkness.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://us.kunsthall.spkr.media/us/Artists/Paysage-d-Hiver/

For more on the label, go here: https://us.kunsthall.spkr.media/