So many records are served up each week, it’s kind of crazy. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but it came up again last week in some discussions with a few people about this site. Only one person does this site, and to get to everything and offer critical analysis on each record would be tiresome, taxing, and pointless, so we designate the offerings each week that resonate and make us feel fire in our bellies. Even if that collective we is just accounting for one guy’s belly.

That’s also the case because although I at least sample just about everything sent my way, the amount of things I feel need coverage on this site is actually kind of easy to determine. And funny enough, even with the process in place, there are labels that I always feel what they’re releasing no matter what because they always seem to get it right. That’s why you see most, if not all, things released by labels such as Gilead Media, Profound Lore, and Dark Descent get time, because they always resonate with me, and I, in turn want to share what I feel with you. Another of those labels is Bindrune Recordings, long a personal favorite of mind that always seems able to tap into my love of metal that is mixed generously with nature.

The label’s latest find, another venture with Nordvis Produktion, is Ahamkara, a new duo consisting of multi-instrumentalist Michael Blenkarn (Wodensthrone, Hyrye, ex-Axis of Perdition) and vocalist Steve Black that pumps a true heathen sense into their brand of black metal. There is a woodsy, freezing lake feel to all of what’s packed into their massive debut “The Embers of the Stars,” which goes great with the freezing winds I’ve been on about lately. Most importantly, you can hear the band’s metallic passion and spirit pouring out of every corner. It’s inspiring, full of energy, and a burst of awesome savagery that so much of black metal is missing these days.

Opener “Midwinter’s Hymn” is a fitting start to this journey, with winds whipping and the song spilling into a colorful eruption of sound. The creaky shrieks from Black, a welcome trademark of this band, emerge for the first time, and guitars add both volcanic energy and extra texture. The song goes icy cold at one point, with cleaner guitars trickling, and a lush, cloudy portion feeds into a final surge, with blazing fury and a blistering savagery. “On the Shores of Defeat” opens up with misty keyboards, guitars burning, and harsh shrieks capitalizing on the intensity. The melodies are allowed to well up and flood, with animalistic cries exploding, waves of noise crashing down, and a foggy section taking over and adding an element of mystery. The track returns to tumult, of course, with terrifying shrieks destroying any sense of calm and the powerful playing bleeding out into a synth gaze.

“Lamentation of a Wraith” is a chilling title alone, and it pays off with a melodic storm, plucked strings, and great drama that cascades downward. The song feels like a heavy, unforgiving storm, with the basslines bouncing off the shores and the track eventually steamrolling and looking for bodies to mash beneath its gears. Then that gives way to some serenity, with keys creating steam and providing a final rush. Closer “To Invoke the Stars Themselves” is a 14:13 powerhouse, starting with waves lapping and murky music floating along for several minutes before a huge explosion shakes the earth. Vicious cries rip everything open anew, with the thick emotion gripping you and easing you into a jazzy section of water. That segues into heartfelt soloing that’s a big as the sky, passionate caterwauling that aims to carry you away with it, and a fire that keeps building higher and doesn’t subside until the band pulls back, returning their tales to a freshly thawed lake.

Ahamkara comes highly recommended as it is an amazing gust of black metal fury with a nature-rich spirit. The fact the labels involved know what they’re doing should be all the evidence you need anyway, as this band is another incredible find, and “The Embers of the Stars” is a spellbinding record. This band should keep you engaged from front to back and will reward your goodwill with one of the more blood-rushing metal albums you’ll hear this winter.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://eihwazrecordings.com/distro/

Or here: http://www.nordvis.com/store/

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

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

I am locked in a great battle with nature that, obviously, I cannot win. It’s been cold and snowy here in my section of the East Coast for the past week, and this weekend, we were supposed to be inundated with many, many inches of snow. Instead, nature kicked us in the nether region and dropped a whole ton of freezing rain, leaving my very steep driveway as thick with ice as a regulation hockey rink.

Yet, as infuriating as it is trying to get in your car in the morning while you battle staying upright, you can’t help but be moved by the beauty of it all. The glistening of the ice demanding to make contact with my skull, the flurries dotting the pre-dawn sky, and the naked tree branches encased with thin shields of clear are sights to behold. Fittingly, as I watched this weather pattern progress Sunday afternoon, I had “Fallow Fields,” the new album by Harrow in my ears. That was a great time to take this in for the umpteenth time. I was under a blanket with hot coffee, the dog was sound asleep, and I could just enjoy watching things accumulate outside in peace, not knowing of the lousy turn things were going to take overnight. At least for that hour or so, nothing could topple my world, and this record was a perfect soundtrack.

Hallow hail from British Columbia, where they surely enjoy their fair share of natural wonder, and for the past five years, they’ve done a fine job honing their craft by mixing together elements of black metal and rustic folk music. Followers of bands such as Agalloch, Fen, Falloch, and Fall of Rauros could find Harrow are kindred spirits, and the music they created on these four tracks are both explosive and breath-taking. The band—Ian Campbell (vocals, electric and acoustic guitars, bodhran, keys, percussion), Jacob Moyer (drums and percussion, vocals), Kat Mason (bass, vocals), and Alexia Horozian (violin)—create a woodsy, picturesque collection that really would be fitting during any season, though it’s doing wonders getting me through winter. Alongside them during the recordings are cellist Stephanie Knittle, who also plays in Alda, as well as former bassist Derrek Burton, who provides some backing vocals.

“Pathways” begins the journey with air gusting, acoustics setting the scene, and melodies building in a calculated pace, like a season beginning to ease you into its grasp. The power then arrives, with powerful growls that feel like the body of a storm, heavy and massive guitars, and cries erupting behind all of these sounds. A rustic folk section blends in, with the strings having their say, and atmosphere begins to reign supreme. Strong clean singing arrives, noise threatens, and a near peaceful passage takes the song to its end. “Through the Grey” follows, with guitars strummed gently, hazy, breezy noises floating in, and horns mixing into the scene. The first portion of this song is more folky in nature, but as it progresses, a black metal assault gallops in and harsh growls interact with the flowing melodies. Later, the tempo calms, but not the intensity, as bellowing singing colors in the band’s heathen spirit perfectly.

The title cut starts with acoustic guitars, strings swelling, the bodhran getting knocked rhythmically, and spirited singing emerging, giving the song an around-the campfire feel in the dead of winter. In fact, Campbell sings that “sparks fly from this fire” as the rest of the band backs him with stinging violin, rich cello, and a great forest feel that gives the song a ton of character. Closer “Awake Before the Dawn” is led in by Knittle’s cello moaning, with gentle chiming surrounding it and reflective melodies taking form. The singing is a little higher register and emotional, with the drums being pattered and a rush of sound bringing with it winds of seasonal change. Gazey guitars begin to boil over and add a dose of thunder to the track, the storming reaches a fevered pitch, and a serving of noise and drone let the record and the track boil off. What an adventure you just had!

Harrow still are something of a mysterious entity, as their name hasn’t blown up in underground circles yet or become heavy fodder for internet discussion. But as more people get their hands on “Fallow Fields,” that is bound to change, because the music here is far too good to fly under the radar forever. Now’s a great time to get familiar with this band before their star inevitably rises.

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

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

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

Guts and grime, blood and horror all are vital parts of doom and death metal. Not every band takes advantage of those areas, but the ones that do and have a firm grasp of all of those elements are the ones that end up etching their names on our perverse brains.

There’s a new band Dwell that’s coming out of metal-rich Denmark that has a stranglehold on these ideals, and I can’t be more pleased to talk about these lurching demons today. The band has been around only three years now, with just a 2013 demo to their name. But now they’re unloading their debut long player “Vermin and Ashes” that sounds like it was created in a crypt. It’s dusty, violent, unpolished, and vicious, and the songs really come together in a horrific, satisfying manner. In fact, this record gets better as it goes on, building momentum and intensity, and it’s a fine, hammering first entry that is bound to make a huge impact on underground metal this year.

Dwell’s ranks are made up of members of other heavy hitters such as The Vein, Cerekloth, Altar of Oblivion, Woebegone Obscured, Ad Noctum, and plenty of others. The musicians who make this vicious thing—vocalist JBP, bassist/guitarist ABL, bassist Quinten Nicolet, guitarist Mans Andersen, keyboard player Kenneth Holme, and drummer Andreas Joen—have only the worst of intentions in mind and grind out an economical but heavily meaty 38 minutes that make you feel like you’re being stuffed into a tomb and left to be tortured by whatever lost souls are trapped inside. That sounds silly. I know. But it really does feel that way.

The record begins with “A Collapse Sublime,” a track that is built on punchy, doomy goop, harsh vocals and grunts, sludge that feels inspired by Celtic Frost, and cool melodies slithering behind the terror. The song hits some calming waters for a little while before everything ruptures again and ends on a gothy, gurgly note. “Pathless and Dormant” starts with air rushing into the scene, keyboards creating a dense, scary fog, and cosmic melodies mixing in with all the ugliness. Keys continue to drizzle down, growls simmer and bubble, and the back end of it disappears into ambiance. “Vermin in My Arteries” pounds away from the start, with belching growls bleeding forth, riffs taking control, and the chorus finding a weird sense of hook. The growls try to get a little clean at times, which work, the music gets murky, a woman screams out into the night, and a speedy assault brings the track to its final resting point.

“Plunging Into Ash Tombs” opens with B-level sci-fi noises, feeling like a soundtrack from a film the MS3TK dude and robots would lambaste. That’s a positive, by the way. There are fiery lead guitars that bleed into a bruising mid-tempo assault, wild wails, sections that are bizarrely melodic, and keyboards tearing in like a laser. The drums get crushed as the track bursts open again, ending with a harsh, violent finish. “Become the Void” is a cool instrumental that sounds icy and haunting, again going back to the science lab for its ultimate inspiration. That all leads into closer “Perdition’s Mire” that boils and lets the intensity build. The vocals sound painful and throat-trashing, the riffs plod, and the band lurches along this bloody journey. There is a strong dose of viciousness that acts as a final death blow, and fiery bit of soloing leads the way to the cut’s vanishing into the night.

Dwell’s introduction into this world could not possibly be grimier, and as anyone worth their weight in doom should know, it shouldn’t be any other way. They write tight songs, the sense of skullduggery is thick and rich, and they’re only beginning on “Vermin and Ashes.” This is an awesome display of filth that’ll keep you happy the entire disgusting winter season.

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

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

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

Getting back to basics often is what artists do after a long period of experimentation or doing things outside of their comfort zone. It’s a way of getting back to a primal urge and building off the things that made them creators in the first place. It’s way to go back to square one with plenty of knowledge in your back pocket.

Aaron Turner was a part of one of the most influential bands of the past decade with his work in ISIS (the band, not the terrorist group, you dummies). Their sound was revered, and a whole host of disciple groups popped up in their wake to carry that style forward. But when the band members went their separate ways in 2010, Turner didn’t exactly sit around. He got Old Man Gloom off the ground again and most recently sent Internet folks and writers in a tirade of spite over their “Ape of God” releases. He also continued working with wife Faith Coloccia in Mamiffer, and even teamed up with those crazy Fins in Circle for the supremely awesome and heavily under-appreciated Split Cranium. But now, he’s back with a brand new band Sumac that does seem to return to Turner’s basics and puts him on a similar, albeit grislier, path as ISIS. Profound Lore is releasing their debut album “The Deal,” but if someone had tricked you into thinking Hydra Head had risen from the grave and delivered this mammoth into the world, you easily could be swayed by the sound and weight of this thing. Hell, even the cover art looks like something out of, like, 2002. It’s great, and the music is huge sounding.

Turner isn’t alone on this album, as he’s joined by drummer Nick Yacyshyn (also of hardcore-laced maulers Baptists) and session bassist Brian Cook (Russian Circles, These Arms Are Snakes, Botch) added his work to the project. Most of the material here sounds pretty free form, like the guys went in with a basic skeleton of the songs and just let the lava flow and settle where it may. That gives the album a sense of freedom and organic strength, as they let these cuts develop, breathe, corrode, and burn, and if you fail to get out of the way in time, that’s your fault.

“Spectral Gold” gets the ball rolling in a calculated manner, as the brief instrumental cut opens with a tribal feel, noise spitting outward, volatile simmering you anticipate boiling over, and all of that fading into time. “Thorn in the Lion’s Paw” drops the weight immediately, with slow chugging set to devastate and Turner’s trademark monstrous growl unfurling and leading the way. Melody surges, with the section feeling airy and atmospheric, while tension builds and devours any sense of calm. The riffs shuffle and maul, the drums are beaten to a pulp, and a keyboard haze joins up and creates a wall of interference that is thick and impenetrable. “Hollow King” is a 12:21 beast, with the tempo slowly ramping up, the song beginning to crush heavily, and the vocals ripping out and devastating. There’s a great deal of mashing that could crush your digits, and that slips into muddy horror, sprawling drumming, and a long section of playing that sounds loose, unplanned, and burning off as much energy as they can muster. That leads back into the main body of the song, some spectacular riffs, trance-inducing assaults, and a back end that thrashes over and over, leaving you howling and pleading for mercy.

“Blight’s End Angel” lets guitars rise up and ring out, like a disturbing wake-up call, and from there all the elements simmer and soak in their seasoning before the track bursts with a fury. The growls are animalistic, while the tempo chugs heartily and a massive, clubbing assault on your senses plays out. Noise bends hard, the track keeps building strength and intensity, and everything slips into a reflective state ruptured only by gruff growls. The title cut bristles from the start, with a chunky bit of thrashing, sludgy terrain that catches your shoes, and vocals that disrupt and shakes into a state of undivided attention. The guitars stab with intent, with wailing sounding like it’s buried in the background, while the last portion of the song pushes into woozy, weary melodies. Noise drills hard, with drone spreading out and distributing chaos, and the power getting in a few final blows. Closer “Radiance of Being” is an instrumental outro, with the drone carrying over, somber melodies taking up residence, fuzz multiplying and frying off, and the whole thing fading off into the fog.

I’m an unabashed fan of Turner’s work, no matter the project, but it’s really cool to hear him going back to a sound he helped foster and develop. Sumac feels like a monster that traveled from a decade ago to wage war on today’s sounds, and every moment of “The Deal” pays dividends to those who just want our hearing brutalized and emotions triggered. This band does that very thing over and over, and this is a gargantuan beginning for a promising new project.

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

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

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

Go ahead and laugh, but there is a remote possibility that metal takes itself a little too seriously at times. I mean, take a band such as Oozing Wound, who can thrash with the very best of them, and they’re written off by some people because they’re perceived as not being serious. Give me a break. They’re either good or they’re not.

That brings me to Night Demon. Now, I don’t think there are a lot of people pointing their way yet and questioning their motives, but if you absorb their debut long player “Curse of the Damned,” you likely will understand how people might look at them with a tilted head. To hell with those people, by the way, because Night Demon destroys. Feeling like something arriving out of the late 1970s or early 1980s, when there was no such thing as people questioning your motives in metal, these guys come off like the natural progression from Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Dio, and Thin Lizzy. This is a good fucking time, a chance to forget all the bullshit going on around you, and surrender to the power of metal. You remember how to do that? We all could use a refresher now and then, and this killer record can help soothe what ails you.

Night Demon have been kicking around for the past four years or so, and the lineup consists of vocalist/bassist Jarvis Leatherby (whose singing if totally cut out for this type of thing), guitarist Brent Woodward (The Fucking Wrath), and drummer Dustin Squires. The guys delivered their initial EP three years ago first on their own and then with the backing of Shadow Kingdom. Now, they’re really moving up in the world, as Century Media swooped in and signed these guys and are exposing them to the wider audience they deserve. Get ready to get lost in their power.

“Screams in the Night” gets the record off to a great start, with a catchy, riff-heavy track about an ax-wielding executioner, who Leatherby warns is “coming to get you.” The leads are great, there’s an awesome transitional riff toward the end that’ll make you punch tables, and the whole thing comes to a crunchy finish. The title cut sounds like a Scorpions track when it takes off, mainly in the guitar work, and the chorus is one of the finer ones on here, a sequence that’ll get stuck in your head and have you repeating it all day long. The track “Satan” may come off a little cheeky, but it’s an homage to the man downstairs that long-tenured metal warriors are sure to love. “He’s coming for your soul,” Leathersby reminds, as the soloing lights fires, and the whole package packs a damn fun punch. “Full Speed Ahead” is one of the more aggressive cuts here, with a NWOBHM-style assault spilling forth, the words painting scenes of comic book-style violence, and a sense of darkness taking over that gives the track a sense of danger. “The Howling Man” is the longest song at 6:47, and it’s a warning shot to those who don’t take the forces of evil seriously. After fires crackle and thunder sounds, the band hits its groove, with guitars kicking into high gear, the track taking on a classic Maiden feel, and Leatherby vowing, “I won’t let you take this world to hell.” You almost can imagine him standing off the dark forces with torch in hand.

“Heavy Metal Heat” sounds like it jumped into a time machine in 1985, when “Headbangers Ball” would play bands like this front to back, and arrived in modern times, when we could use an anthem of this nature. The guys imagine a Friday night after a shit work week, the need to blow off some steam, and the promise of salvation delivered by heavy metal. It’s a fight song, really, and those who fell off from metal the last few years could try this on and feel like they never left. “Livin’ Dangerous” is a similar style of cut, with AC/DC-style guitar lines driving this forward, the song excelling in its simplicity and power, and the back end taking on a faster tempo that should lift you out of any doldrums. “Mastermind” has a sinister feel, with the bass pushing through the center, and the verses certainly are a lot of fun to behold. The soloing is majestic and punchy, and there’s another feeling of empowerment injected into the song. “Run for Your Life has rowdy guitar work that also gets a little chewy, and the simple, easy-to-sing-back chorus adds even more weight to this one. “Killer” is literally named, as it’s about someone who murders for thrills,  though as this one goes on, the subject matter is poked and told, “Time is up, you’re gonna fry.” It’s as catchy as a song about a murderer possibly can be. The band makes an odd choice with its closer “Save Me Now,” as they held one of the most memorable, infectious tracks for last. Here is where the Thin Lizzy influence really settles in, with strong vocals, a chorus that will never let go and just sticks inside your brain for days on end, and the guys hitting on all cylinders. Like those classic metal cuts were wont to do, the band returns to that chorus and gets everything they can out of it, letting the thing roll over and over until it fades out with the song. What a killer finish.

If you find you lost your way and can’t remember the last time metal truly made you smile because it doesn’t feel like as much of an escape, go a few rounds with Night Demon. “Curse of the Damned” is a catchy, awesomely fun album that will make you want to go out on Friday, roll down the windows, and do something dumb you’ll remember forever. Or at least until the next morning. If this thing can’t lift up your spirits and let you indulge in the power of darkness, you might be a lost cause.

For more on the band, go here: http://nightdemon.net/

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

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

Imagine you’re out at night, alone, with the wind whipping at you and cracking your skin. Except, you feel like someone or something is there with you, and whether that’s as a friend or a foe, you can’t help but notice a second presence. And then your hear an inhuman voice, enough to make your guts turn to liquid and your heart race, as you’re in the vicinity of something awful.

The scenario played over and over in my mind the first visit I had with “Mysteries,” the third full-length record from mysterious one-man Portuguese metal project Black Cilice, and it’s one that doesn’t seem to go away no matter how used to the surroundings I get. On the surface, it might seem like another lo-fi embracing black metal band looking to make the murkiest, most primitive of sounds. But dig deeper, and you’ll find cavernous melodies, entrancing horrors, and a voice designed to terrify you. At least, I think it’s a voice. What sound like vocals on these six songs could be mistaken for a ghoulish wind, a transmission from a long-dead soul that is begging to reach out and express every ounce of its torment. It’s just one chilling element of what, honestly, is a very strange, quite alien-like album that must be heard to be believed or understood, if that’s even possible.

Black Cilice is the product of a nameless musician who has been releasing music since 2009, when the first demo was released. Ever since then, the music has come in waves, with a number of demo and split recordings, and two other full-length records: 2011’s “A Corpse a Temple” and 2013’s “Summoning the Night.” Never has this band been an easy one to approach, and you’re kept at the same arm’s length on “Mysteries,” a record that really could not have been given a more fitting name. After countless listens, I still am trying to fully comprehend what’s going on and what this is all about. Not that I’m complaining.

“To Become” opens the record and immediately lets you know what you’re in for with this album. The sound is furiously drowned out, with an odd buzzing over top that seems to loop through every song, and indecipherable vocals that might as well be beams of static burn through the mix. Melodies build up like an oncoming solar storm that could rip the world’s communications to shreds, and the frost and hellish ice pack so hard, it feels like you’re lost on Hoth. “Into Morbid Trance” runs 7:15 and totally messes you up hard. Damaged riffs chug, and howls sound like they slip into and out of realms. The tempo drubs hard, and disarmingly sleek playing snakes its way through the fog. On “The Truth,” the noises bobs like its rollicking on a dark body of water, and chaos erupts, with scary transmissions swirling and mournful guitar work adding more levels of bleakness. The final moments haunt and moan, and the song eventually just disappears.

“Ceremonial Energy” feels nothing but negative, with searing leads battling with the sound muck, echoey vocals reaching out from the land of the dead, and the pace eventually sludging and trudging its way over you. The song eventually blows apart, with the pace hammering, noise whining, drums being pulverized, and the last remnants of a voice dying off. “A Prayer From Beyond” is fittingly titled, with the guitars stinging, noise splattering all over, and a heavy whirring that could make you feel like you’re locked in a vortex of hopelessness. There is heavy thrashing causing fires underneath, repetitious pounding that could drive you insane, and a thunderous assault that punishes you to the very end. Closer “From the Long Forgotten Past” shakes and disorients you from the start, with howling freezing your senses, a delirious tempo taking hold and upping the danger ante, and guitars that burn and char everything in front of it. Melodies arrive and have their say, doing battle with the sheets and sheets of noise, and it all comes to a stabbing, gushing conclusion.

Black Cilice’s music is for those who want to reach beyond what’s normally expected from a genre and explore the outer reaches where few dare to tread. A lot of bands and artists have tried similar aesthetics as what you’ll hear on “Mysteries,” but this project stands out for the absolute panic it will put into your heart and the detached, out-of-body-experience level of strangeness you will encounter. Yes, it’s early, but I wonder if you’ll hear another black metal album this adventurous and mystifying for the rest of 2015.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Black-cilice/180165665369041?sk=timeline

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

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

If one were to make a list of black metal bands that keep their style consistent, by the book, and devoid of any real surprising changes, you’d find yourself compiling one hell of a collection of names. You might even be able to fill an entire book full of culprits, which is funny considering black metal is supposed to be a genre that takes any rulebook and burns it to ash.

One band you could not put on that list is Taake, the one-man killing machine based in Norway and driven by the enigmatic and mysterious Hoest, a man who doesn’t know the meaning of the word “conventional.” Over the course of six records and two decades as a project, the music has been black metal to its core, but it also added many different colors, styles, and tastes into his madness. The music never has been predictable, sometimes making people turn their heads at what Hoest blends into his formula, but he doesn’t compromise and refuses to put parameters on his artwork. That same thing carries over into his new opus “Stidens hus,” an album released late last year in Europe by Dark Essence and that is seeing a domestic release this year by Candlelight Records.

Now, it’s true Hoest has had a past that’s been a little bumpy. There was prison time for an assault charge. There also was, let’s call it “Swastika gate” since we have so many controversial gates going on, where he emerged on stage in Germany with the Nazi symbol painted on his chest. He has since adamantly denied his band has anything to do with Nazi sympathies and that his actions were more to shock than anything. Fine. Benefit of the doubt as it seems to be an isolated incident, and all of that can be put aside while discussing these seven new cuts that should be judged by their musical merit alone. That might seem a little odd considering a certain essay that ran on these pages a couple months back, but I don’t think Taake should be viewed as a band that is truly harmful to anyone and instead should be considered another black metal band that espouses darkness and misanthropy to release those dark elements into the world. OK, well maybe there is one way that Taake is conventional.

Opener “Gamle Norig” gets the proceedings off to a rousing start, with the guitars churning, melody sweeping in like a storm, and the vocals sounding creaky and vicious. The song’s pretty damn catchy, to be honest, and eventually the music goes into space and messes with your headspace. The track really begins to soar, sounding a bit like Rush at points, and the final minute explodes and blazes a path toward “Orm.” There, strong riffs and harsh growls mix together and conjure a sense of dread, with strange, prog-fueled movements, cool guitar leads that lean into textures slides, and gothy, wordless vocal melodies and murky strangeness creating a bizarre atmosphere. “Det fins en Prins” begins with guitar shrieks that pierce the ear drums and riffs that chug and thrash heavily. The song smothers over its 8:03 running time, with fresh, incentive melodies, ferocious growls that rage out of Hoest’s mouth, and boiling and buzzing riffs that push through to its psychedelic conclusion. “Stank” grinds ominously, with relentless pounding and a tempo that gets uglier as it goes on. The tempo breaks into a punk-fueled section that twists into spacious, surfy guitars and then back into the thorns.

“En Sang til Sand om Ildebrand” is an instrumental track that rages open, with melodic bursts sending colors spurting over rock, the bass lurching and slithering, and whispery vocals adding a serious chill to the air. The riffs begin to dominate again, with a frosty atmosphere emerging, more blistering punishment, and a dark, fever-rich adventure coming to a raucous end. “Kongsgaard bestaar” just explodes, with fierce, creaky growling returning, with the melodies going chilling and freezing. There’s a calm that blows in, but that’s temporary as the attack gets back into seeking blood, weird noises shoot in and confuse, and some of the playing actually feels sunburnt and shimmering. Closer “Vinger” opens with simmering riffs that eventually lead into speedy passages, the growls are vicious and devastating, and more punk-led playing shakes you to your core. There are weird sounds stitched in here that are like barnyard noises, but who knows what they really are? The track concludes with scraping growls, wailing melodies, and a finish that slams shut and leaves your hand jammed hard in the door.

Taake remains one of the most interesting, riveting bands in all of black metal, and this a project that truly never repeats itself. “Stidens hus” is another fantastic entry into the Taake canon, and it’s so multi-layered and furious, you’ll probably need several visits in order to absorb it all. Hoest has struck again, making black metal a more unpredictable, exciting place, and no matter what you say or think about this artist, you can’t argue that he defines the rebel spirit that’s supposed to be the heart of this music.

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

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

Or here: http://karismarecords.bigcartel.com/

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

Or here: http://www.darkessencerecords.no/

Grief and human horror sound like great topics for a Monday, when hope and enthusiasm are at their lowest. At least for normal people. I can’t really account for those people who show up at 7 a.m. and are amped beyond belief for life.

So let’s jump head first into the new Dead in the Manger album “Cessation,” a miserable, furious display of six interconnected tracks that will make a lousy day seem completely bleak. They made a tremendous debut in 2013 with the fire-breathing, tumultuous “Transience,” a record that introduced the world to this mysterious band that added new levels of darkness into the metal community. This new entry deepens the disturbing elements they already unleashed and makes them even grimmer. The new songs share similar traits as the ones on their debut as they’re devoid of names other than labeled by parts, and the band still refuses to share their identities. Why unveil parts of this band they don’t see as important, like who they are and what they’ve done? This way, you can dig right into the music and absorb it for what it is with no prejudice or preconceived notions.

“Part I” begins the record, quite obviously, as the first moments of the song trickle cleanly and give the album an ominous, misleading introduction. The track then opens up into doomy punishment, giving the atmosphere a murky ambiance that feels like it could threaten at any moment. The song veers back and forth, with the tempo slowing down and boiling back up again, and the final seconds spilling melody and fire into “Part II,” which is clubbing and miserable from the start. The band heads into a black metal fury, with raspy growls emerging, melody mixing into the vicious machination, and more doom muddying the waters. There’s another vicious outburst, with the drums crushing bones into powder, the playing dizzying, and slow driving mauling bringing the song to a volcanic end. “Part III” spills noise into the scene, with a dusty industrial feel taking over, and then filthy riffs emerging. The riffs then drizzle down like a blood spray, with the band pounding away and the heaviness smothering faces.

“Part IV” blows open with fast, blistering playing, techy madness that comes out of nowhere and feels oddly fitting, and a tidal wave of destruction. There is cool, inventive guitar work, which makes the brain waves charge, and airy, spastic melodies that ring out hard. “Part V” starts with clean, fuzzy guitars, melodies that roll cleanly, and a weird fog that feels like the kind that emerges during the winter when warmer temperatures and rain start to defeat the ice. There’s a sense all along that something bad is brewing, and when that terror rises up, it’s in the form of vicious grinding and more face-splitting drumming. Closer “Part VI” is the longest at 8:06, but they take zero time to unload. The song explodes with riffs defacing, the assault coming fast and crazily, and the vocals sounding ugly and bloody. The tempo teases calm at times, as the clouds roll in, but they always unleash the fury again, with massive amounts of devastation and the band clubbing you over and over before the record subsides and lets you have a modicum of mercy. But you’re still in severe pain, so it’s not a lot of solace.

Dead in the Manger are well on their way to establishing themselves as one of the most vicious, hopeless (philosophically, that is) bands in the extreme metal arena. They don’t give a damn what they throw into their poisonous stew, as long as it maims and continues to give off a sense that everything they know is horrible and eventually going to destroy. “Cessation” will make you feel worse than you already do today, but look on the bright side: It’s only downhill from here! Right?

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.20buckspinshop.com/

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

Ever have one of those weeks, or any period of time, where you feel like you are trapped with no hope of escape? One where the stress weighs down like an elephant on your chest, filling you with anxiety and a feeling that the chaos in your head isn’t going away any time soon?

That’s actually been the past couple of weeks for me, and it’s mainly work related as major projects come to a head, burst into flames, and leave us all back at the drawing board. I know there are far worse problems in the world, so let’s toss out the “woe is me” sentiments, but it’s still been complex and, at times, a little disheartening. As anyone who has read this page over a long period of time probably is predicting, yes, I did find some very suitable music for this stretch. I needed stuff that felt like the world exploding, black soot raining down, and there being no hope of escape. Right, I don’t seek out happy, uplifting music when I’m in a trench. I want to hear something that sounds like it’s right down there with me, and Abstracter’s punishing second record “Wound Empire” more than fit the bill. This is four tracks and 42 minutes of pure aggression.

This Oakland-based band piles doom, crust, and sludge on top of each other, building a toxic waste dump of noise that can be oppressive and impossible to navigate your way out of. And that’s been perfect for matching a dark period, one where I needed to hear music that identified with my volatile mental state. The band has been active for the past five years, first heading out into noise-infested waters before the group starting really coming together. Abstracter—vocalist Mattia Alagna, guitarist Robin Kahn, bassist Donovan Kelley, drummer Emad Dajani—recorded this thing last summer, when things were at their brightest and most alive. But you never get the sense they drank in the rays and stretched out. This document is so full of darkness, hopelessness, and ashen fury, that it sounds like it would have to come from one of the darkest times of the year, when many people’s mentality is bleak and eroded. Kind of like right now.

Oh, and heads up: This thing is out on like 19 different formats and labels. What we’re going to do for the buy-here link is send you to the Bandcamp site. They have a link for all of those formats, but we’ll still provide separate links to the labels, all of which you should explore if you haven’t already. We good on that? I guess it doesn’t matter, because that’s what we’re doing.

“Lightless” opens the record, a massive 10:56-long splitter that dumps feedback everywhere and lets penetrating noise ring out. The band slips into slow pummeling that takes its time but smothers you with heaviness, and vicious growls emerge that sound monstrous. The duration of the song is meaty and massive, giving you very little room to breathe, and with a few minutes left, the chaos subsides and lets calm take over. That doesn’t last, as it goes back into such a devastating pattern, you might be compelled to throw a table out of a window. The track eventually bleeds out and spills into “Open Veins,” which has quite the ominous opening. Guitars begin to trickle down, with heavy melodies gaining control and other sections of the music getting mired in muck. There are moody, simmering passages, buzzing lurching that pulls you into the earth, and more sludging kicking up and spewing cinders. The band really starts wailing away with a couple minutes left, and the final moments are positively cataclysmic.

“Cruciform” starts with noise hanging in the air like a death cloud, and the music kicks into a calculating, violent pace. The vocals sound infernally delivered, like if you get too close they could burn the hairs off your face, and strong melodies snake in and out of the thick tributaries of sound. Like all of the songs on this record, there are plenty of tempo shifts, bringing the pace down at times, detonating explosives at others, but no matter what they’re doing, it’s always emotional and true. As the song winds down, Alagna’s vocal hit a savage wail, and the band drives into a smashing finish that bring things to a volcanic end. Closer “Glowing Wounds” begins with things pulled back, the picture allowed to develop, and clean vocals that sound purposely detached and robotic. The first half of the song keeps things even-keeled but still girthy, but the latter portion is where the track get smashing and dangerous. Growls return, sounding like they could shred vocal cords, while the band unleashes spirited, incredibly heavy play that pours added fuel to the fires and even injects some atmosphere in the horrors. The final minute is absolutely blistering, with the guys punishing your wounds, darkening everything around you, and robbing you of any chance you’ll know hope again.

This is a massive, earth-crushing record, with Abstracter stepping out as a band you need to know and respect right now. “Wound Empire” is their most devastating, adulation-deserving to date, and each visit I had with the album, I got sucked in more and more to all of the madness going on inside. This can equal and resonate with any tumult currently going on in your life, and maybe it’ll absorb just a bit of your dark energy as you try to forge ahead on your path, knocking down every annoying barrier in your wake.

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

To buy the album in any format, go here: http://abstracter.bandcamp.com/album/wound-empire

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

And here: http://fragilebranch.com/

And here: http://www.7degrees-records.de/

And here: https://www.facebook.com/hatecof/timeline

And here: http://anout.bandcamp.com/

And, finally, here: https://vendettarecords.wordpress.com/

As much as people seem to get excited about the holiday season and all the comings and goings of that time, the best part of winter for me is right about now. There aren’t a million things to worry about, the snow falls a little thicker, and you can walk around outside and get that nice gust of freezing air bursting in your lungs. This really is a great time to let everything go.

Some equally adventurous music can help make this time even more rewarding, and one of those records for me since the New Year dawned has been “This Island, Our Funeral,” the second album from Scottish post-metal band Falloch. You won’t find very much aggression and skullduggery on this album, nor on their excellent 2011 debut “Where Distant Spirits Remain,” but that’s by design. Instead of viciousness, these guys revel in rich, gusting atmospherics, riveting melodies, and actual signing, which has become something of a rarity among the bulk of metal bands. Even if this wasn’t what the members had in mind seasonally when they wrote and recorded this record, its dropping in the States right at the heart of winter is ideal, as it soundtracks nature and the whitening of everything wonderfully.

Falloch did go through major changes since the last album, with biggest being former vocalist Andy Marshall moving on and forming his new band Saor, with whom we will visit next week. In his place is Tony Dunn, who also contributes guitar work, and he’s an admirable replacement for a singer whose work was etched deeply in this project, though he still has a little bit further to go before he truly earns the reins of this band. He has time. The rest of the band is comprised of guitarist/keyboard player Scott McLean (along with Marshall, a founding member of the band), and other newcomers since the last album bassist Ben Brown, and drummer Steve Scott. Now a full band bursting at every seam with power, they seem poised to get their future back on track, with this second record a serious step toward achieving their larger goals.

The record gets going with 9:17 “Torradh” that takes some time to get moving, but mostly because it’s setting up an ambiance. It’s initially breezy, with whistles lending a woodsy spirit, and then it opens up and launches strong melodies both musically and vocally. The volume and tempo keep pushing forward, and the band’s passion is evident, finally winding down with glimmering and trickling keys. “For Life” has a blistering start, with the vocals rising up with strength and the guitars going gazey. The track calms, letting acoustics to spill in and bring a rustic feel to the proceedings, and the singing picks up again and carries the track. Great soloing bubbles up, giving the track a glorious, epic feel, and the cut has a heavily textured, colorful finish that bleeds out into the air. “For Uir” has quiet, reflective guitars, wordless melodies, and a ballad-like sense to it, letting them get as melancholic as anywhere else on the record and providing a gasp of fresh air for listeners. “Brahan” then erupts, with some of the most aggressive playing on the album, the vocals delving into fierce growls, and everything blazing. Dunn goes clean again and lets his singing voice take over, with the band exploding with energy behind him. Later they deliver a slow-pounding finish that takes the song to its finish.

Another shorter track follows and paves the way for the two album-closing epics. “-“ is ever so brief, with pulsating noises creating cloud coverage, cosmic winds whipping through, and the brief trip pulling into “I Shall Build the Mountains,” a 10:31 journey. The vocals are a high point of this one, with Dunn sounding confident and in command of the band, and the music taking multiple dips and turns, from calmer, more tranquil tones to bursting, belowing explosions. The bass heads into jazzy, proggy territory at one point, which adds an interesting tone, and the final moments blast open again, with the music chugging hard, the band unloading everything have, and Dunn slipping into a more sing-songy approach. “Sanctuary” runs 12:17, and it’s the one place where it feels the band loads a little too much into a single cut. It certainly has its high points, with more emotional playing, storming pounding that pushes the tempo, and vocals that reach new heights. But it feels a few minutes too long, as the last quarter of the song treads too much water (like a young Thomas Magnum!), robbing the cut of its final fireworks that should leave your blood pumping. Instead, you’re just kind of ready for it to be over. Honestly, it’s a minor quibble on what’s otherwise a pretty solid piece of work.

Falloch have some uneven spots on “This Island, Our Funeral,” but for the most part it’s a rewarding, enthralling experience. Their style of metal is such a fresh gust of air considering most of what I hear these days constantly goes for the jugular, and I’m never going to be upset about a band that takes me on a sonic adventure. It’s great to hear these guys back on track, making strong music, and working toward being a part of metal’s future fabric. I would imagine that whatever they dream up for their next record will be the band’s strongest vision yet, provided they stay together and gel.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://candlelightrecordsusa.com/site/

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