Terrible frustration, unending anger, things being complete bullshit seemingly all the time. Those are situations and moods we all face from time to time, and when it’s all three at once, existence seems like it’s the worst, something that’s a struggle to grasp and make even a slightest bit of sense out of.

Funeral doom is not a sub-genre that was born out of happiness, pleasantries, and comfort. It’s cold, dark, and abrasive, and sometimes it feels like a thing that’s weighing on you for a million years at a time. It’s also an excellent source of power when you’re feeling at your worst and can’t come to grips with daily frustrations, and a band such as Usnea could be just what you need when you need to spit the venom welled up inside of you. The Portland, Ore., doom band is oppressive, angry, and fierce in the best possible way, and their second release “Random Cosmic Violence” should reach way more ears via their alignment with Relapse. It’s a union that makes a lot of sense, and with the dreaded seasonal depression about to sink its teeth into many of us, this record could be the monster that helps pull us through the murk and hell.

At four tracks and just under an hour long, this dreaded document is a fiery, harsh, and unpleasant experience, which I mean in a good way. The band–guitarist/vocalist Justin Cory, bassist/vocalist Joel Banishing, guitarist Johnny Lovingood, and drummer Zeke Optimo Rogers–reveal black personalities, strange ways of expressing their darkness, and torturous practices to make their weight felt. These songs are not for the faint of heart, the easily wounded, or those who want three minutes and a cloud of dust. You must commit, feel each thorn press into your skin, and do what you must to make sense of this cauldron of madness that’s not exactly excited to make its intentions clear.

“Lying in Ruin” is the first beating up, beginning with bizarre noises and cosmic weirdness that seems to be setting itself up for a volcanic trip through space. The doom floor eventually drops, as expected, and the vocals sound crazed and anguished, like they’re going to squish your bowels until death arrives. A sweeping atmosphere arrives, and the vocals slip into a chant, making the track feel ritualistic. There is a lot of back and forth, heaviness paving the way for calm and vice versa, and the final moments have the drums driving and static eroding everything. “Healing Through Death” mauls you for 14:20, beginning right away with banshee wails that might cause you to jump. The band heads into slow-driving gore, with deranged cries and menacing hell before it changes over to clean and spacey. As is the case with most of the songs on here, the track doesn’t stay in one place for long as it shifts toward slithering death, calculating punishment, and an ending that makes sure it gets in as many vicious blows as it can before it lets you go.

The title track runs 14:44, and it opens with rustic acoustic guitars and slow, moody melodies. There is singing that again feels chant-like, almost like they are detached from this plane of existence and staring deep into unknown realms. But just when you feel like you’re locked in a trance, the song ignites and hammers the hell out of you. The vocals are monstrous and the pace is sludgy, but then the tempo pushes ahead again and gets thrashy and ugly. New riffs emerge that freshen the scene but also keep draining the blood, and melodies that seem like they’re repeating on a loop give way to the same acoustics that started the track. “Detritus” is the longest cut yet at 15:47, and it has a chilling, doom-infested opening that signals death’s arrival with the ringing of bells. The track takes its time building up storm clouds, and you just know the other shoe is going to drop. Obviously it does, with solemn, mournful playing, psychotic wails that make you think the worst is finally at hand, and damaged melodies that sound as battered as you are. The song sounds like it epitomizing the end, with gazey guitars spilling in, the pace continually churning, and the track ever so slowly fading away.

Usnea won’t provide an adrenaline rush or something to help you crush beers, but it will feel just right when you’re at your lowest point and need something that feels even miserable than you are. “Random Cosmic Violence” is a perfect debut for their new label, where they should find plenty of people who need a horrifying doom fix. These guys will disgust and destroy you, and don’t be shocked if you find you’re enjoying every minute of it, even at your personal worst.

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

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

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

The spooky season is behind us now, what with Halloween being over, but that doesn’t mean we have to put away the skeletal scariness, the blood, and the guts. Not when we have a new mini-release from Skelethal, a French horror squad that makes death metal that’s filthy and true.

Following this year’s “Deathmanicvs Revelation,” a well-received debut EP offering on Iron Bonehead, they have roared back with their new “Interstellar Knowledge of the Purple Entity,” an effort that sounds more colorful than the music itself. That doesn’t mean it’s not interesting and satisfying, because it is. Instead, it offers drab blacks and greys, with splatters of blood red, exactly what you’d expect from a band of this ilk. The music is gruff, ugly, totally unpolished, and obviously steeped in the death metal of old, where ripped skin, crushed bones, and destruction were all that mattered. If you’ve dined too much on the polished, slick death metal of today, designed to move units and get merch into mall stores catering to teens, get ready for a sobering awakening.

The band remains an unholy union of two artists—vocalist/guitarist Gui Haunting and drummer/bassist Jon Whiplash. Both also play in thrash metal band Infinite Translation, though here they get to show their burlier, more aggressive side. If you were along for the “Deathmanicvs” offering, you’ll be right at home, as the band piles more bodies into the machine and prepares to bury them alive against their will. Their songs have catchy elements that go along with the horror, and you even can hear some of the thrashiness of their other band coming out from time to time. They have a damn good thing going here, and it’ll be cool to hear what they can do with a full-length.

The five-track album gets off to a strange start with eerie instrumental “Subterranean High,” an introductory piece built with weird noises, piano notes dropping, and what sound like submarine signals, making you feel like you’re starting off buried beneath the ocean. The title cut then tears in and turns everything doomy and miserable right away, with raw death transmissions, really strong riffs, and infernal growls that send a chill down your spine. Eventually the band speeds it up, turning vicious and fiery, and the track ends with the stench of vintage fury. “Sabbatical Demonic Invocation” is dark and a little muddier, with some of their thrash tendencies coming out. The song progresses and rots like a plague, at times hitting the gas pedal and steamrolling, at others feeling satisfied with drubbing you senseless. “Slaughtered From Beyond” is mean and chugs hard, with crunchy, spidery guitar leads, even grislier vocals, and nasty playing, pushing their ferocity into newfound intensity levels. Closer “Torn Apart” is aptly titled, with murderous guitar work setting the pace, the vocals sounding like they’re shedding blood, and more doom terror rising up and caking everything in soot. Speed erupts, as these guys make it a point to end the release on the most destructive note possible, sending up their most violent, punishing work in the record’s final seconds. Prepare to be drained when this is finished.

Skelethal have given us old-school death metal fans a lot to enjoy this year with both EP releases, and “Interstellar Knowledge of the Purple Entity” sounds like a band sure of its mission and unafraid to grind people’s face into the muck. This is more crushing chaos from a band that is determined to bring death back to its gory roots, and we all need more of that to keep this genre as disgusting and nasty as possible.

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

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

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

There is some music that’s made for certain seasons, whether that’s the artists’ intentions or not. Some things just seem to fit certain moods, like harsh black metal in the winter or Iron Maiden’s blazing glory in the summer. For whatever reason, the weather just seems to suit those bands, and vice versa.

With tomorrow being the birth of November and another huge step into autumnal terrain, the new record from Falls of Rauros could not have come at a more fitting time. “Believe in No Coming Shore” sounds tailor made for this time of year, and I thought that well back to when I was listening to this thing on a beach with the sun beating down a couple months ago. It made me hunger for cold, dark nights, darker beers, and any excuse to huddle near a fire. The band’s grasp and alignment with nature surely pushes that along, but there’s something about this record that bites your skin with chilly winds and makes you think of chilled creeks and rivers coated in brown, yellow, and red leaves, awaiting the first oppressive snowfall.

Another thing that must be noted about this Maine-based black metal band is the richness of their sound that no doubt contributes to the music helping connect mind and body with the season. The band weaves many different sounds into their formula, including a heavy doses of Americana and folk that help further color and inform their hearty, spacious sound. The band–who simply go by their first names of Jordan, Evan, Ray, and Aaron and all contribute to the mix–have been making huge strides over their two full-length albums, 2008’s impressive “Hail Wind and Hewn Oak” and their 2011 follow-up “The Light That Dwells in Rotten Wood.” Falls of Rauros have slowly, steadily built a loyal, passionate following of people who no doubt emotionally identify with the band’s music, and they’re bound to be pleased to no end with this incredible new opus, their new high-water mark.

The record opens rather delicately, easing you in with “Blue Misshapen Dusk” that’s constructed with calm, trickling water, clean guitars spilling out slowly, and an airy feel of nature before it leads into “Ancestors of Shadow.” That, too, begins cleanly, building into something progressive, and then letting warm electrics pull a warm blanket over everything before erupting. The vocals are harsh and passionate, with great melodies carrying you on its shoulders and fiery leads that inject more passion than you can handle into the song. Great a song as it is, it’s really a precursor to one of the best pieces Falls of Rauros ever have created. The track is the stunning “Ancestors of Smoke,” a song that builds perfectly over its 10:07, beginning with poetic and furious leads, wild howls that sound like they originated deep in the soul, and a tremendous spiritual alignment among all four members. Halfway through, the song seems to come to an end, before folky acoustic guitars rise up, met with rich, syrupy slide guitars that remind a bit of Songs: Ohia/Magnolia Electric Co. Heaviness eventually returns, but the band doesn’t abandon the rustic elements, and the final moments are both catastrophic and completely cathartic. This is one of those special cuts where all the parts move together ideally, making for a song that can act as their calling card.

“Waxen Voices” also is a tremendous, challenging track, with acoustics dressing the initial moments and an extended, melodic passage growing out of that, where everyone gets to stretch their legs and build one hell of an atmosphere. The band chugs a little harder on this song, digging deeper into the more disruptive elements of black metal, but there also are some sunburst lead lines here, making me wonder if they were jamming some Allman Bros. at some point during the record’s creation. You can feel this one building in your heart, driving your blood through your veins, and the vocals begin wailing like a battle cry, while the drums deliver a vicious bruising. When the song comes to an abrupt end, you might find yourself totally out of breath. “Spectral Eyes” is fast, melodic, and challenging, with gushing vocals, nicely textured melodies, soulful lead guitar work, and even some bits that sound like they could make an indie rock fan smile. This is a tremendous piece of work, and oddly, it fills me with nostalgia listening to this one, like it’s connecting me with something from my past. I’m still trying to figure out what. Like the opener, the closing title track mixes acoustic with electric guitar, blending them wonderfully. Lead lines burst through this line sunbeams, with the melody feeling numb and sleepy in spots, bustling in others. The track concludes like you’re waking up from a dream that’s gripped you through the night but also gave you plenty to think about during the coming day.

I highly encourage you to secure a copy of “Believe in No Coming Shore” in any (legal) way necessary. It is one of the year’s best metal records and one that will keep delivering every time you visit. Falls of Rauros are in a class all by themselves, a band that has a firm grasp of the heavy, emotional, and delicate and weave it all together beautifully. Crisp winds are in the air, the winter is on its way, and it’s never been a better time to bask in this band’s glory. Do it now before the truly special moment to experience this record passes you by for another year.

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

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/

It’s another one of those weeks where we have more records than days of the week to cover them. We’re winding down the year’s release schedule, oddly, and I keep finding myself buried in records to which I want to give time. It’s looking like November’s not going to be all that merciful either.

So we come back at you with another piece where we’ll give some time to a few records that are recently released or just on their way, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed listening to each of them. What’s also nice is these records come from three bands who could not sound less like one another, so if you’re an open-minded listener you could find a whole lot in which to sink your teeth. In fact, one of these albums came to our attention kind of late, but we liked it so much that we’re going to go ahead and lead with that one.

Baltimore’s Barbelith aren’t rewriting the book on atmospheric black metal, but they sure are penning a damn good add-on chapter for the genre’s new editions. Powered by emotionally charged music and vocals that match that intensity, this band is putting out their awesome debut record “Mirror Unveiled” on Grimoire Records, one of the more reliable labels for the emerging beasts in underground metal. This 4-track, 37-minute album might make you think of like-minded bands such as Ash Borer, Fell Voices, Yellow Eyes, and the almighty Weakling, and their approach feels fresh and true, even if they’re putting their own spin on a style of metal that’s coming dangerously close to saturation. But Barbelith remind us there still are exciting bands playing this style, and I can only imagine where they’ll go following this impressive, assaulting first album.

The album is comprised of two epics book ended by two smaller, more concise tracks. “Beyond the Envelope of Sleep” kicks things into gear with an ignition of power, drums that go off, and insane riffs that spiral and pile on top of each other. The guitars are melodic and glorious, while the vocals are harsh and punishing, with everything ending on a chaotic note. “Astral Plane” begins in the arms of serenity, making you feel like you’re floating through a dream, but then everything is blown to bits, with heavy atmosphere behind their music, which is thick and apparent on this track. There are times when the song starts absolutely destroying everything in front of it and others when the pace is pulled back and the intensity drops. The band always leaves you wondering when to take cover, and the final minutes that are dressed with cosmic synth, gazey coolness, vocals that sound like they’re hellbent on killing, and cosmic dreaminess prove why these songs are so unpredictable.

“Black Hole of Fractured Reflections” keeps our minds in the clouds, with an airy, eerie start that feels like it’s sprinkling stardust before the damn thing is torn apart. The guitars spiral and find a loopy sense of aggression, while crazed shrieks are traded off with strangled growls, giving a perfect look into what makes this band so destructive. Once again, the calm moments and the violent ones play tug of war, as the tempos and paces play around with your mind, and as the song goes on, it even dips into progressive waters. But that isn’t a permanent move, as the band re-ignites their fires, with anguished howling and chugging guitars giving the end a hard shaking. “Reverse Fall” is your finale, running a strong 6:10 and immersing you in heavy, mystical sounds. The howled shrieks terrify again, with the riffs driving this machine forward heavily and massively. Noises are splattered everywhere, while the band maintains its atmospheric crunch, and the final seconds end the record with an earth-ripping fury.

It’s pretty sobering to realize this is just the start for Barbelith, and this debut is one that’s well worth your time and monetary investment. These guys sound like they could be the future of atmospheric black metal, a band that not only will keep the sound alive but will pump it full of vitality.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://grimoirerecords.bandcamp.com/merch

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

GENERATION OF VIPERS, “Coffin Wisdom” (Translation Loss) – It’s been three years since Knoxville maulers Generation of Vipers have destroyed us with a new studio album, that one being 2011’s malicious “Howl and Filth.” It’s been a more active year for the band as they brought Gilead Media Fest to its knees in July, and now they’ve returned with their blistering fourth record “Coffin Wisdom” that will knock your teeth down your damn throat.

The band’s combo of hardcore, sludge, and doom are on full display on these seven tracks, and there’s hardly any mercy to be had on this record. The songs are drenched in noise and chaos, and cuts such as punishing open “Damaged Awake” (where the thick bassline sounds like a spine of solid steel); the sweltering yet channeled title cut; the mechanically dangerous, feedback-laden smasher “Dark Matter”; and 7:28 bone-crushing closer “Crawling on the Ceiling” that combines killer riffs, muddy ferocity, and noisy melodies making this one to hear when you absolutely need to throw a cinder block through someone’s window. But this band can do other things, which they prove on the more reflective “Haunted,” a song that has an eerie, ghostly first half, where you feel like you’re in the middle of an out-of-body-experience, before they wreck a dump truck into the whole thing and end it in a cloud of explosive rage. These guys are heavy, honest, and massive, and this is arguably their best record to date.

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

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

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

APOSTLE OF SOLITUDE, “Of Woe and Wounds” (Cruz del Sur) – If misery, depression, and sadness is more your thing, Indianapolis-based doom metal band Apostle of Solitude are back four years after their awesome “Last Sunrise” (which had one of the most controversial album covers of that year). In the time since, the band has shifted from Profound Lore to Cruz del Sur, but the band’s music is just as heavy, dreary, and darkness-saturated as ever before, as evidenced by their killer new record “Of Woe and Wounds.”

Apostle of Solitude’s music still comes as you from a traditional base, which is sure to please fans of bands including Hour of 13, Gates of Slumber, and some obscure group called Black Sabbath. The 10-track record is fiery, slow driving in spots, and full of great riffs, with there being so many high points, it’s tough to hit on them all. “Whore’s Wings” has tremendous singing from guitarist Chuck Brown, some awesome harmonizing, and warnings to, “See the coldness in her eyes”; “Lamentations of a Broken Man” that’s a profoundly dark and sometimes reminds of early Alice in Chains; “Die Vicar Die” the angriest and, in my opinion, best song on the record, with Brown wondering, “How could a righteous god forgive a monster like me?” and a chorus that bristles with anger; the swaggering and catchy “Push Mortal Coil”; and the epic “Luna” that’s mystical, creepy, sludgy, moody, and lumbering all at once. Apostle of Solitude remain one of the finest American doom bands, and “Of Woe and Wounds” solidifies their rock-solid resume.

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

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

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

I have levels of mistrust for labels that put out, like, 40 releases or more per year. How can you get all of that right? How can you ensure your audience that all of these bands and all of these records you release are worth your time? Answer is, they’re not.

This site always has gravitated more to the smaller labels. Not to be elitist. I love the attitude people have that if you don’t embrace the mainstream “underground” metal artists, you’re some kind of dick destroying metal. No. Maybe that music doesn’t resonate with us. It doesn’t for me. Which is why I love getting the occasional promo e-mails from I, Voidhanger, a label that doesn’t bombard you with a ton of new releases but certainly does a fine job hand picking the good ones. A few weeks back, they shot off another that was way more than worth my time, and two of those records we bring to you today. One is by Mare Cognitum, who we’ve discussed before and bears the Meat Mead Meat stamp of approval. The other is a bizarre band called Tongues, that really made a huge mark on me, as much for their music as their inventiveness.

We’ve visited with Mare Cognitum a few times in the past when we discussed 2012’s awesome “The Extraconscious Lucidity” and last year’s collaborative effort with Spectral Lore called “Sol.” The Santa Ana, Calif., based project is the brainchild of sole member Jacob Buczarski, who has used Mare Cognitum to reveal to the world his spacious, aggressive imagination, as well as his gift for creating atmospheric, wondrous black metal that reaches out into the cosmos. Buczarski is back with a new record “Phobos Monolith” that finds him branching his abilities out even further, returning with a stunning, forceful record that keeps in place the artistic template but also adds more color, texture, and volcanic eruptions. It’s a hell of a record, and it’s great to hear this project progressing with each new release.

“Weaving the Thread of Transcendence” opens the record with a heavy woosh of sound, clean guitars trickling, and the song eventually opening up in full, driving hard toward the meaty points of this 13:04 cut. The melodies are spacious and spread out over a great vastness, with the vocals erupting as a vicious growl that cuts and devastates. The drums really kick up dust about halfway through this one, as Buczarski glues his foot to the gas pedal and speeds forward, with shrieks piercing the calm and tremendous melody that is thick and deep. “Entropic Hallucinations” explodes open, with the growls sounding monstrous and menacing, and a cool synth glaze setting up behind all the lava flow. The track is even heavier than usual for Mare Cognitum, and even when the song hits some tempo dips, it always returns to power and force. The song really starts soaring as it reaches its back end, with an enveloping darkness making it hard to see your hands in front of your face and the madness spiraling out and leaving you gasping for breath.

“Noumenon” runs 13:06, and it takes its time setting up shop, with noise pockets thickening and piano notes dropping like thick drizzle. Buczarski sets up a great atmosphere and keeps playing from the heart, building thick layers of sound and stretching out the colors and textures. The vocals bleed in, remaining bloody and fiery, and some tremendous leads rip right into a gazey section that lets winds gust up and tear leaves from the trees. As the song reaches its final minutes, it’s impossible not to feel all the feelings. The fires are stoked hard as Buczarski reveals even more emotions lurking within him, and it’s easy to be completely overwhelmed by this track, in a really great way, of course. “Ephemeral Eternities” lasts 15:16, and the final moments of the preceding track flows right into this one. Like the songs before it, things don’t explode right away, as a mood is set and colors are dashed over the canvas before a burning hammer is thrown through it. The vocals are more death metal-oriented in spots, and there are some great thrashy sections here, where Buczarski chugs hard and makes you want to drive a car through a house. The music cascades hard down on everything, the sense of aural violence is everywhere, and the track gives one last good thrashing before it fades out, bringing this excellent album to a thunderous finish. Mare Cognitum are a pretty consistent band, and this project really seems to be coming into its own as Buczarski sharpens his musical tools.

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

Tongues are a Danish outfit as bizarre and dizzying as heavy and pulverizing. Putting an exact label on what this band–Thorbjorn on guitars, vocals, bass, organ, and Qvortrup on drums, vocals, and lyrics–is pretty difficult. There is plenty of darkness to be absorbed on their debut EP “Thelesis Ignus,” and you can pull strains of black metal and doom from this cloudy, stormy cavern. The band claims to reach beyond the physical and into how the mind and soul correlate with the body and our experiences. So we’re not just being pummeled here. There’s a method to all of this and a greater mission beyond mere metal, something all of us could experience with them as we are all living beings.

“Void Meditation” opens the proceedings, running 10:05 and giving you a strong dose of what’s ahead. The opening is weird and suspenseful, like a curtain is going up to reveal a strange ritual behind it. The growls are gurgly and lurching, with the drums taking on a tribal tone and the entire thing feeling hypnotic. As the track moves along, it gets heavier and more hostile, with the vocals getting screechier and the guitars going off. Things hit thick pits of sludge, the pace and path are unpredictable, and the track comes to a furious ending. “Will of Fire” feels like blurry black metal at the start, with strong, burly growls and later some whispery messages as the song gets a little mystical. The band hits on a massive, killer groove, with crazed playing that defines “all-over-the-map” creativity, and a fire-breathing, devastating last few minutes that seek to deliver an unquestioned knockout blow.

“Last Grip of the Hand of Guilt” has a static-splashed start before it delves into mean death metal trauma. The track has moments that are absolutely hellish, sometimes slowing down to make the beating more deliberate, other times pouring gasoline on the blaze. The playing is relentless and unforgiving, and then black metal stallions gallop with a fury and flatten everything in its wake. The drums tear apart everything, the vocals go absolutely insane, and the aggression keeps multiplying itself before it dissolves into dissonance. “Bloodline of the Blind” is the closer, as “Last Grip” smashes its final moments into the song. This track is completely different from everything else on the record and shows you a haunting, spookier side of the band. The track is made up of strings, weird buzzing and ambiance, and vocals that come buzzed from the throat, like a beast of an insect is delivering this take on Adam and Cain’s tale. It’s a really strange, sometimes upsetting song that could chill the hell out of you, and despite how disturbing it is, you cannot turn away from this track until it finally lets go and allows you to return to some semblance of order. This is a really promising, gripping debut from a new band whose future really could go in any number of directions. Whatever they pick, it’s bound to be horrifying.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/tungerne
So there you have it: Two more strong releases from I, Voidhanger, a label that seems quite content to remain in the underground, serving up the darkest, most fierce that world has to offer. Both bands could not sound any different, but those who swear by the label’s offerings, or anyone who wants something a little more challenging and rewarding in their lives would do themselves good by experiencing both Mare Cognitum’s and Tongues’ new work. You also know by the way the label carefully hand-picks their bands and releases, that they stand by these records wholly and heartfully.

To buy either album, go here: http://www.i-voidhanger.com/mailorder.htm

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

Quick! Name the English archaeologist known for unearthing artifacts of the Minoan civilization and who had a prominent role of defining what those people meant to the history of Greece as well as the Mediterranean region. Don’t know it? It’s OK if you don’t. I didn’t until just recently, and had it not been for the great new record from Giant Squid, I may never have reason to read up on it either.

The answer to that question is coming soon, but let’s get into the bulk of the progressive doom band’s fourth record “Minoans” and what inspired the band to seek this path. See, Giant Squid always did things way differently than many other metal bands, especially in the doom realm. Instead of basing their work on destruction, death, or negativity, this group always headed outward to the seas, to the scientific, to the natural. The band isn’t just called Giant Squid because it looks good on a T-shirt; it’s because it’s a focus for the band to adventure deep under waters rarely seen by human and pay homage to creatures and things many people haven’t before. They also approach their music differently, branching out for each release, refining their melodies and style, and never returning the same beast. That same goes for “Minoans,” where the singing is as rich as ever, psychedelic bubbling becomes a large factor, and they go heavily toward dramatic, rousing passages, making for one hell of a riveting listen.

So it’s easy to be moved artistically and learn new things when taking on Giant Squid–guitarist/vocalist Aaron John Gregory, cellist/vocalist Jackie Perez Gratz, keyboard player Andrew Southard, bassist Bryan Ray Beeson, and drummer Zack Farwell. I’ve only scratched the surface of indulging in more on the Minoans, who were prominent on the island of Crete from 2700-1450 B.C. Just as fascinated as this lost society is are the many theories for how they met their end, from volcanic eruptions to war to environmental carelessness, all of which easily could bring today’s societies to its knees. So there’s another lesson to be learned from this great band, who we’re so happy to hear from again as their last record was 2009’s concept piece “The Ichthyologist.”

The opus begins with the title cut, with gently moving waves and psyche keyboards washing over and chilling you out. The pace moves along deliberately, with Gregory’s vocals opening up, strings swirling in the wind, and great melodies meeting up with Gratz’s commanding cello. It’s a captivating, swelling cut that opens the record nicely. “Thera” is unmistakably emotional, with more keys drizzling, and a punchier tempo setting the tone. Both Gregory and Gratz provide vocals, often taking turns as the dominant voice, with glorious melodies that eventually meet their end when the doom drops out of the bottom. From there, the song catapults forward, with the guitar surging and dominating, and the song taking on a surfy feel. Remember that question we asked in the opening paragraph? Well, you get your answer on “Sir Arthur Evans,” a track inspired by the man who discovered the remnants of the Minoans and who gets homage paid through jazzy playing and Gregory’s croaking vocals that sound not unlike Tom Waits. It feels like a pirate tale at times, with the end bursting open, the cello adding dashes of color, and the conclusion absolutely rumbling. “Palace of Knossos,” another of Evans’ discoveries, get burly treatment, with Gratz singing, the texture feeling awfully cool, and some strong vocal interplay that takes you down the stretch.

“Sixty Foot Wave” brings the assault of life-ending destruction into play, with the bass driving hard, playful guitar lines emerging, and Gregory calling, “We will be washed clean and torn asunder,” imagining the end of civilization coming to pass. Guitars sharpen and cut, the band hits a cool groove that pushes the song, and everything keeps building until the end arrives. “Mycenaeans” has a steely, punishing approach, with vocal harmonizing, a dreamy texture, and some of the heavier stuff on the whole record. The band then takes an ominous turn, with the cry of, “What god do we turn to?” before the final moments embody total cataclysm. “The Pearl and Parthenon” could be called a ballad, as it’s played slowly and with a lot of heart. The vocals are softer, with Gratz and Gregory taking turns switching off from lead to backing, and the track progresses gently and warmly. It’s not all serenity, though, as the closing minutes get heavier and crushing, taking your head for a serious trip. Closer “Phaistos Disc” has slinking keys and Gratz sings, giving it a honey-rich, smooth glaze, while the band hits yet another jazz groove. The pace swings back and forth, like an ocean growing aggressive and then pulling back, as all the sounds rise up to form one voice. The band starts wailing away, with each piece showing its strength, and the finish feels like a massive curtain drop, putting one final emphasis on a great civilization that was lost in time but has risen up never to be forgotten again.

Giant Squid do a great job standing out among their peers through their passion, creativity, and intelligence. They’re not concerned with overwhelming you with brutality and would rather tell you a story that contains rough edges and progressive sequences. Because of this, Giant Squid remain an ever-evolving band, a group that’ll never came back with the same record twice, and one you can depend on to give you a unique journey you’ll love taking. No, you don’t have to dig into history and learn to enjoy “Minoans.” You can just dig the music. But if you do engage, you’ll become a greater part of this record spiritually and expose yourself to a group of people who faced similar trials and tribulations we do, and perhaps a way we can save ourselves before it’s too late.

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

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

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

I don’t know why so many people smile so much, and probably the most irritating thing in the world is when someone tells you not to look so glum. Cheer up, buddy! I feel like people who live that have completely isolated themselves from reality because, if you take a long, hard look at society, things suck regularly, and we are forced to endure a series of endless mental beatings.

Politicians play games with people’s lives and well-being, nothing is more important than money, and you need to have all the latest shit otherwise your life and presence are meaningless. Sorry to burst anyone’s bubble, but that’s a large dose of reality, and a band like Atriarch has a firm stranglehold on the dimmest, most oppressive angles of life. As a result, their music wallows in darkness. You might find that when tackling their work, you feel like a mentally beaten shell of yourself, lying somewhere in a dingy basement while a leaky pipe drips cold water on your forehead in the most irritating example of waterboarding ever. Yes, this Portland death/doom union recognizes those awful realities that surround us, and they aim to tear out of their shells and grasp onto whatever remnants of their spirits and psyche remain in order to overcome all the horrors. They’ve done that over two excellent full-lengths–2011 debut “Forever the End” and 2012’s “Ritual of Passing”–and that sentiment carries over on their devastating third opus (and first for Relapse) “An Unending Pathway.”

Atriarch’s music certainly stands out in the extreme music world, and in the metal community in particular. As noted, there is heavy doom and strains of death throughout the band’s music, but there also are elements of deathrock and goth rock to be felt, which make the proceedings even blacker. Lenny Smith’s unmistakable, anguished croon sits out in front of this band, as he wails away and tries to find strength in the worst of times. Along with him are guitarist Brooks Blackhawk, bassist Joe Wickstrom (a newcomer since their last record), and drummer Maxamillion, who round out this formidable, imposing group that’s here to drop the hammer on that which holds us back and refuse to piss on the eternal funeral pyre of those very ideals that cause us harm.

Opener “Entropy” begins with eerie, chilling noises, an ominous sign of what’s ahead. The band lurches on, finding some morbid power in such a dank environment, and Smith’s later charge of, “We are all God’s children, and we are all condemned,” puts a bloody exclamation point on the thing before it dissolves into chaos. “Collapse” is dreary and cold, with Smith warbling, “An endless soul, a dying soul, there is no ending and no beginning,” as the band finds a sense of primitive savagery. Later the singing gets slurry before fierce shouts emerge, and the conclusion of the song is just pulverizing. “Revenant” rings out, stinging your ears, before drums take a militaristic approach and Smith unleashes a ferocious growl that’s far different from his typical nasal croon and snarl. The song bleeds slowly in spots, with some beastly moments here and there and vocal torment strangling you at the end. “Bereavement” is a total mauler, something you don’t always get form this band, with the guys unloading an unforgiving assault and the vocals just retching. It eventually evens out, with the singing getting cleaner, the playing getting gothier, and the emotions delivered via hammer, but much of this is as heavy as Atriarch get.

“Rot” is the longest song on the record, running 7:27, and it has a clean, foggy opening, with voices swirling and threatening. Smith imagines a simplistic death and even tidier aftermath of returning to ash, as he howls, “So when I die, bury me here, with no casket or trinkets from life, I’ll decompose into the Earth so the cycle is whole.” The track is utterly dark but also has a bizarre positivity of one man accepting and relishing his role in a natural life cycle. “Allfather” begins misleading, with a calm, even tranquil start before the track erodes, complete with Smith’s vocals registering vicious growls. The song is psychologically gory, with the band building layers of sound on top of each other, and every time you think it’s slowing down, it tears gaping new holes in everything and spits rage. Closer “Veil” is both full of anguish and ripping with terror. Smith goes back and forth from harsh death-like howls to purposely monotone warbling, while the band delivers an assault that’s awash in punk and doom, with noise shimmering. As the track reaches its end, it sizzles and erodes, letting melting pieces of metallic shrapnel fall by the wayside, before it eventually returns to the same noise soup that opens the record. It’s sort of like the album itself is accepting of death and bringing on its own demise.

At first, Atriarch’s music might make you wallow even deeper in the muck and make you wonder if there is any way out. But don’t ignore the band’s defiance, strength, and anger. They are lashing out, trying to affect change within themselves, and refusing to be weighed down by life’s bullshit. Maybe that isn’t always possible, but we must try. Use “An Unending Pathway” as a guide, if you must, and find out if the music and emotions conveyed on these seven tracks don’t cause your blood to rise, your fists to clench, and your will to survive to push against whatever holds us back.

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

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

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