For all of the heavy metal bands roaming this planet, there aren’t as many as you would think that encapsulate the sound of pure hell and thunder raining down on a battlefield, with severed limbs flying and blood dashing combatants’ mouths. That’s a special sound reserved for the likes of Bolt Thrower, Diocletian, and Cobalt, and not many others can match the combo of rage and glory of those killers.

But now New Zealand’s Exordium Mors are here to answer the bell, and they do that and a whole lot more on “The Apotheosis of Death.” It’s not that the songs are about war necessarily; it’s that they feel like they are. The band is heavy and ridiculously unforgiving. Yeah, I know that seems redundant to say on a site that covers the heaviest of metals, but try this records on for size and see if I’m not right. Oh, and that cover of a barbarian warrior holding aloft a severed head likely claimed during warfare? Yeah. That’s an excellent indication of what’s ahead for you on this pulverizing 10-track debut that’s smeared with black, death, and thrash metal. This is a band that could get you maimed in a live setting, and more than likely they’d just watch you tend to your wounds, chuckle heartily, and get back to the business of crushing bodies.

You may have guessed this from looking at the photo of these crazed beasts, but there are some damn fun names circulating among this band. Let’s dig into them, shall we? Might want to jot these down, because they’re amazing. On vocals is Scourge Witchfucker; on guitars are Santi and Black Mortum; on bass is Assailant; and on drums is the mighty Hades. Now, these guys also don’t use plain old terms like vocals and guitars when describing what they do, but you can go find all of that fun stuff on your own. And you’ll want to because, as silly as their terminology may seem, it oddly describes what they do perfectly. They’re not just playing music. They’re conjuring the fire of beasts, ready to burn off flesh and leave the unsuspecting lying in their wake. They’ve been doing this for 10 years, and they’ve got this thing down to a gut-ripping science.

“Axiom” rips open the record (as well as the six-part “Apotheosis” suite) with a killer riff, and the song gallops from there, channeling the unpolished spirit of early Iron Maiden. There is a chest-caving guitar solo that’ll make your blood rush, and the songs ends as violently as possible. “As the Vultures Descend” follows and is fast, dangerous, and gnarly, stabbing its way across its course, with growled vocals spat back onto the ground. There is plenty of speed to be had, and the gang shouts that adorn this thing sound primal and to be feared. Then it’s onto “Ascension Through Vanquished Flesh” that is heavy, raw, and splattering, with the band sounding like it’s headed deep underground to find buried bodies. “The Corpse of Your Divinity Now Burns” tells you everything you need to know in its title, but it goes ahead and kicks your ass anyway with razor-sharp black metal-style guitar lines, glorious stomping, and spirited vocals that slip behind and enhance the growls. “The Purging Storm of Chaos Unfurls…” begins with thunder and soaking rains, naturally, before it slips into off-kilter guitar work, a pace that eventually goes berserk, and soaring playing that makes this an instrumental that burns on high. “Unto Lightning Swords of Conquest (Mars Invictus),” the final part of the six-track series, has speedy riffs, savage vocals, a sinister attitude, and drums that’ll powder your bones. What a sextet of terror!

Then it’s off to the rest of the record, starting with “Fire and Triumph” that has a fitting name as it is full of both. It’s a heaping serving of total, true death that refuses to relent, and it is vicious and hammering. The band gang shouts “Fire!” and “Triumph” toward the end of the song, as if they’re marching toward a world-toppling clash. “Abandon All Hope” is one of the most brutal yet catchy metal songs of the year, and it just explodes from the gates. The song is a total rager, with vicious vocals, blinding fast playing, and the whole band howling, “Abandon all hope!” over the chorus. Go ahead and try to remove it from your head. It’s easier pulling an ax embedded in oak. “Blade of Brutus” injects some of the most punishing moments of the album for the back end, as the song burns for nearly nine minutes with shredding fury, shouted vocals, and an assault that just does not quit.  Once the fury finally dies down at the end, the lead and backing vocals go on a capella for several rounds, providing one last chance to these guys to gurgle and spit their disapproval in front of you. “Outro” is packed with passionate playing, some piano notes dripping, and a rare glimpse of beauty from the band. It’s a merciful conclusion to an utterly devastating record, which you’ll definitely need after the beating you will have sustained.

Exordium Mors must be heard, especially if you hunger for brutality and death that is real and pure. As clichéd as this will sound, this is a record that’ll make you want to wield a sword and drive it into a wall. I don’t advise trying to start a battle, as there are laws against that these days. But you can live vicariously. This is a killer record from an underground gem that’ll take your head clean off your shoulders.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://ibdclabel666.bigcartel.com/

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

You know you’re hearing music that is full of hatred and disgust if the words that come at you are ones you hope no one ever thinks about you. Or says to you in a confrontational way. Those words make you wonder what misdeeds must have inspired them and what kind of wounds must have been inflicted.

It took just one visit with “Bled White” from long-running doom metal band Novembers Doom to get a heaping dose of the hurt and torment lurking beneath the surface. Paul Kuhr, the band’s lone remaining original member, always has been one of the most expressive voices in this realm of music, and over the course of the group’s previous eight records, he created dark tapestries that let the listener in to face some of the darkest emotions one can feel. Yet on this ninth album, the hurt seems to go even deeper, the scorn feels thicker, and the wish to see the worst come to his subject matter is as real as it gets. Through these 11 songs and 68 minutes of metallic torture, Kuhr again and again reveals his hole-ridden heart, one that’s sustained enough damage to last many lifetimes and that he has no qualms with putting on display. You’ll want to look away, but you just won’t be able to do so.

Novembers Doom is a band that’s had a lot of members come through its doors (including Derketa’s Mary Bielich and Sasha Horn of Melechesh and Forbidden) with all making their own contributions and making themselves a part of this world of forlorn. The band that created “Bled White” along with Kuhr includes guitarists Larry Roberts (who has been on board since 1999) and Vito Marchese, bassist Mike Feldman, and drummer Garry Naples, and they’re a dangerous unit that matches Kuhr’s emotional intensity and backs him with crushing doom, sections of gothic depression, and clubbing fury that build the proper amount of muck and chaos. Combined, they’ve created a noteworthy record that solidifies Novembers Doom’s reputation as one of doom’s most revered acts and strengthens their resume that already was rock solid to begin with.

The title track opens the proceedings, and with it comes prog tendencies, growled vocals, and a dour feeling, as Kuhr wails, “The more you love me, the more I die.” It’s one of the first depressing, self-flagellating expressions on this record, and it only gets darker from here. “Heartfelt” is a killer of a song, with stormy melodies, creaky growling, and eventually full-fledged singing that might remind some of Type O Negative at their finest. The chorus is swelling and awesome, and as the song reaches its bleakest and most disgusted, Kuhr stabs, “I can only hope hell is real, and demons are eating your soul.” You don’t wish that on someone with whom you’re only slightly annoyed. “The Brave Pawn” is punchy and shredding at times, with the drums reaching a D-beat-style fury in spots, and the bulk of the song is grisly and damaging. “The Grand Circle” has a cleaner open, with gothy leanings, clean singing that eventually runs headlong into crushing growls, and a dark melodic finish that douses you in the piss and vinegar. “Clear” is another strong one, with great singing from Kuhr, a chorus that’ll stick to your ribs, and doom morbidity that is spread pretty thick all over this one.

“Just Breathe” is the first of its kind on this record, that being a song that doesn’t wallow in negativity and hate and instead extends an encouraging word of hope. It’s still pretty dark, as it trickles coldly, and in spots it reminds of heyday Queensryche and Nevermore, which made me pretty excited about it. “It gets better from here,” Kuhr urges in the face of something that, at the time, seems insurmountable. “The Silent Dark” runs 9:28, and it’s back into the murk, with cloudy melodies, expressive singing, and a serious downer of a sentiment, especially when Kuhr wallows, “I’ve created my own hell/what a fitting place for my end.” The song is riddled with guilt and self-doubt, and as the track reaches its conclusion, those emotions boil over with metallic intensity. “Animus” goes back to heavier and more dangerous waters, with vicious growls on verses leading to sweeping vocals on the chorus. The words are revenge-minded, and the pace of the song matches that blood-dripping anger perfectly. “Unrest” has the same sentiment, as it’s quaking and monstrous, and that leads into a brief state of calm with the acoustic-dressed interlude “Scorpius.” Then it’s into the steely finale “The Memory Room,” another song that’s awash in prog and power metal, and it’s an introspective, interesting track that ends the record on a high note. “I can see your soul through these eyes,” he wails, as the band offers up a surging, creative final journey that puts a gigantic exclamation point at the end of this tremendous album.

Novembers Doom doesn’t need to compare resumes with anyone, as they’ve been one of the finest, most consistent members of the United States doom movement. But this record is a stunner, one that fans of this genre should go out of their way to hear, as well as those who like prog-minded power and death metal. It’s great to hear the band pushing themselves, and the emotions, so hard on “Bled White,” and this should make their audience even hungrier to see them play on tour to hear how these songs develop and destroy in the live setting.

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

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

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

People’s attention spans are so short these days. I watched a guy in line at the coffee shop this morning totally forget what he was ordering because he was distracted by a text message or some garbage on his phone. He was ordering a pound of Colombian coffee, ground for auto-drip. I remembered it, but it was a little too difficult for him.

That dude’s not alone, and it seems like a lot of music fans these days have a hard time keeping their focus. Trends come and go, bands rise and burn out in a day, and longevity seems like a thing of the past. Luckily, Mortals are here to shove our asses back in line, and their new full-length effort “Cursed to See the Future” is just the elixir to keep your eyes and ears in one place for an extended time. See, the three killer musicians in Mortals aren’t satisfied with playing one style of metal. They combine elements of black, death, doom, and sludge and weave them so compellingly, you can’t help but be blown away. Indications were strong that on their last EP “Death Rituals” that ambition and creativity had been pushed through the roof, but no one could have been prepared for the heady, destructive, constantly morphing new record they dropped into our laps like a cement slab. Basically, if you can’t be bothered to keep your attention in one spot, they’re going to keep it there by bloody force.

Mortals are a three-headed beast comprised of bassist/vocalist Lesley Wolf, guitarist/vocalist Elizabeth Cline, and drummer Caryn Havlik. If you’ve been following along, you’ll realize just how far this band has come when you hear these six tracks. From their 2009 debut full-length “Encyclopedia of Myths” up to “Cursed,” you will have experience their first steps waffling you with punk- and hardcore-laced sounds, and a dirtier, more primitive approach, to now, when they’ve become one of the most interesting, captivating extreme metal machines going. These are three incredible musicians who deserve individual accolades, but together, they’re more powerful than you could ever know. They can take you through all kinds of dangerous terrain, where you’ll see all sorts of horrors and wonders, and while you’ll be pretty banged up when it’s over, you’ll remember the ride as an exciting one, that you’d kill to take all over again. In fact, I’ve continually revisited the record because every time I do, the songs reveal more of themselves to me, and I begin to hear them in new ways. That’s an invaluable thing, when you can feel and see fresh things every time you hear the same record. If only more bands could do that.

“View From a Tower” greets you with pure demolition from the start, with the band launching into tricky black metal that’s violent and seeks blood. The vocals roar and go for the throat, feeling savage and animalistic, and as the song goes on, it develops into a prog-fueled, captivating piece that holds your attention by force. There are moments during this song that made me think back to the sadly befallen Ludicra, which made me happy to hear Mortals carrying on a piece of their spirit. “Epochryphal Gloom” has thick bass playing at the start, and it goes into a doom-infested assault that eventually meets up with black metal majesty. Again, the musical progression through the song is stunning, and there is plenty of sinister melody to drench you in dramatic terror. There are sections you can just get lost in, imagining some sort of glorious battle scene that’s equally picturesque and dripping with guts. The band hits all the sweet spots, from mean and grisly punishment, to vocals that sound like they wish to maim you, and eventually more doomy mauling. Hell of a trip. “The Summoning” is unquestionably black during its 9:20 running time, with a dizzying array of melodies, thrashy tendencies that could get your face punched at a live show, and cymbals that are assaulted by Havlik with merciless fury. You never stay in one place for the long, as the band works through so many ever-changing sections of chaos that it’s pointless to fight. You might as well get swept up and go along for the ride through this monster.

“Devilspell” is the most heinous-sounding of all the songs, and perhaps that’s evident simply from the title. The vocals sound like they were scraped from the walls of hell and pasted in Wolf’s mouth, especially with the howl of, “Lucifer, speak my name.” The song simmers for its nine-plus minutes, providing more chance to ride ever-changing, violent waves through grinding black metal, prog-influenced guitar parts that are simmering and exciting, and drumming that’ll break your face. The final few minutes offer the biggest surprises, as the band hits on some classic metal highs, closing in on some of their tightest, most fluid playing on a record full of that type of thing. Just a great, blood-rushing finish. “Series of Decay” runs more than nine minutes as well, and it blasts out of the gate with surging black metal that’s an absolute joy to hear blaring from your speakers, headphones, you name it. Grisly vocals and storming playing make it feel like a drenching black cloud is hanging overhead. But eventually some calms sets in to act as the red herring. From there, the band ignites anew with savage thashing, chugging that just doesn’t quit, and some scintillating guitar work that burns the hair off your arms. I should note the guitar playing is a particular high point through this entire record, as Cline’s playing is enthralling and inventive. Closer “Anchored in Time” is one final dose of calculated black punishment, with the open question of, “Where has time gone?” The song feels sorrowful and solemn even while it’s rushing at you with torches blazing, and the doom-fed finish gives the cut, and the record, the perfect send-off to the pyres of death, where only ashes are your future.

I expect—no, I demand—by the end of the year, people are going to be putting Mortals on their best-of lists for 2014 and hailing this act as one of metal’s great hopes. They have a chance to reach way more people with Relapse behind them, and they put their best killing swords forward with “Cursed to See the Future.” If you haven’t experienced Mortals’ power and glory, there’s no better time than now. Do it, or get trampled in their violent path toward dominance.

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

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

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

It’s nice and endearing to hear newer bands reach back to older sounds to try to give them new life. It’s also annoying sometimes because once a trends hits, does it ever hit hard. But what’s even better is having a band that lived through the eras being revived reminding us all how it’s done.

Corrosion of Conformity have been one of the most influential and celebrated bands in heavy music for the past three decades, and for good reason. A few years ago, the “Animosity” era lineup—guitarist Woody Weatherman, bassist/vocalist Mike Dean, drummer/vocalist Reed Mullin–reformed and brought us an explosive 2012 self-titled full-length that was a blast from the past, and a much welcomed one at that. Now comes their new record, and second since the reconfiguration, called “IX,” and it absolutely destroys everything in front of it. Look, and sorry if this is sacrilege, but I wasn’t a fan of the Pepper Keenan version of the band. I never liked his voice, and when they got some popularity in the 1990s with “Albatross” and “Clean My Wounds,” I didn’t hang around because it didn’t click with me. I’m probably alone on this. But with their “Animosity” revival, my C.O.C. love came back in full, and I am in absolutely punk/thrash/blues/hardcore bliss over their new record. It’s that damn good, and it’s such an honest, earnest blast of what made them so beloved in the first place, longtime devotees will have to be blown away by this 11-track puncher.

I can’t emphasize enough just what a pleasure it is to hear this record. It makes me think of when I first starting hearing about C.O.C. when I was in middle school, and seeing the punk kids wearing shirts with their unmistakable skull logo. Another cool touch about the record is the packaging doesn’t try to make some grandiose statement or go for the guts. It’s a black cover with the band plugged in and playing, with the ominous skull lurking above them. That’s it. And it’s perfect, because it’s the idea statement about what you’ll hear when you turn on “IX.”

The record opens with “Brand New Sleep,” a bluesy, trippy, stoner-style burner that has plenty of swagger and all the C.O.C. attitude you can handle. You should notice right away that the vocals are as strong as they’ve ever been on a record featuring these three, and it’s a pleasure to hear these guys howl away. “Elphyn” is thunderous from the start and is built on a killer Southern-style riff that just does not quit. The guys hit a sweltering groove that could cause the sweat to pour from your face, and there’s a nice infusion of psychedelia to go along with everything. “Denmark Vesey” is one of the heaviest songs on the record, with repeated shouts of, “Kill! Kill! Kill!” and it’s a killer dose of old-school hardcore and thrash, wrapped together tastefully. “The Nectar” is a pretty bad-ass cut, with noise boiling over and a nasty disposition displayed by all three guys as they melt away. There are some speedier moments intertwined, more thrash goodness, and vocally it’s one of the catchiest things on here. Then we get a breather with “Interlude,” a calming, tranquil cut that gives you a breather right when you need one.

The second half gets off to a hazy, sun-scorched start with “On Your Way,” another song driven by a really tasty riff, with higher-pitched singing colliding head-on with some of the burliest growls on the whole album. “Trusker” pulls back slightly, with a slower pace and more psychedelic fire, before it bursts wide open and swallows you whole with its thrashy gallop. “The Hanged Man” kicks up a ton of dust, as it blasts forward, not trying to wow with its prowess and always hoping to catch you in its gears for a good grinding. “Tarquinius Superbus” is a total mauler, with a heavy, thrash-minded assault that’s both punishing and catchy as hell, including forceful, pissed off vocals noting, “They think they know ya, they control ya.” You can almost imagine these guys stomping away as those confrontational words strike, with the band unloading the lumber. “Who You Want to Blame” gets back into the stoner mentality, with a bluesy shuffle landing and leading the way, and the guitar work just blazing good. There is some real organic crunch to this song, and it’s a great example of how everything just comes together nicely on this record. “The Nectar Reprise” is a quick callback to one of the album’s best tracks, with one last chance for the band to roll with you heavy drumming, sludgy playing, and one of the best choruses on the whole record. It’s a hell of a ride, and you’ll be sorry when it’s over.

C.O.C.’s revival is hitting on all cylinders, and at this pace, if the band stays in this form for the rest of their run, I know I’ll be incredibly happy. “IX” came out incredibly well, and at the risk of beating a dead horse, it’s really fun to hear. These songs should be a blast to witness live and certainly will boost the band’s hard-earned, stellar reputation.

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

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

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

Anyone familiar with the old TV show “The A-Team” (not the idiotic abomination of a movie) knows that Hannibal Smith commonly would snarl, “I love it when a plan comes together,” right when the good guys gained the upper hand for good. I thought that exact same thing the very first time I heard the new record from black metal maulers Wolvhammer.

It is clear right away from the band’s third record “Clawing Into Black Sun” that the band is at its strongest level to date. Sure, you should expect that from a band as they progress and log more time playing together, but that doesn’t always happen. But with Wolvhammer, they’re firing on all hellacious cylinders on this great record, their most cohesive, channeled record to date. It’s one that should wholly satisfy those who have been on the band’s torrid bandwagon ever since the release of their 2010 debut “Black Marketeers of World War III” and who followed the into 2011’s impressive “The Obsidian Plains.” But this album also is their most approachable to date, so for those who are getting sick and tired of the polished, mainstream-minded black metal out there, this record could be a perfect gateway into the savage underground.

The Minnesota-based band is comprised of vocalist Adam Clemans, whose lofty resume also includes dark rock band Liar in Wait and Shaidar Logoth; guitarists Jeff Wilson (also of Liar in Wait and other heavy crushers including Chrome Waves, Doomsday, and Abigail Williams) and Brendan Seven (who joined the fold last year); bassist Joe Noel (ex-Samothrace); and drummer Heath Rave (ex-Across Tundras). The group never has sounded this tight, and it’s clear their songwriting skills have grown in leaps and bounds. And it’s not like these guys ever were slouches. There is plenty of black metal fury but also undeniable melody that should pull you in, post-rock darkness, and grime, and they mix all of those sounds excellently, making for their most consistent document in their catalog.

The record opens with eight-minute opus “The Silver Key,” a destructive, Lovecraftian storyteller that pushes listeners into the danger zone immediately. The vocals are creaky and grisly, the song’s path is ominous and dark, and the final minutes of the song really rip open and bring this tale to its violent end. “Lethe” is a mechanical storm of an interlude, sounding like black winds whipping, giving off the feeling that you’re free falling through the sky. “Death Division” is built with stabby riffs, rough vocals, and a punk-flavored assault that keeps on blistering you. Clemans howls, “I walk through hell alone!” as dark melodies envelop everything and pull it into the void. “Slaves to the Grime” might be the best song in their catalog, and if there’s one sure-fire way to bring new listeners into this record, this is it. There are grim melodies and menacing sentiments, such as when Clemans pokes about the “revocation of the so-called soul.” It’s a bleak song that’s devoid of hope, and it’s a smasher.

“The Desanctification” unfurls slowly, with chilling, buzzing guitars that instill a sense of fear. The vocals are throaty, with the melodies lathering you in electric violence, and Clemans’ shouts of, “No heaven above!” is another way to get under people’s skin with zero concern given over who he might hurt. “In Reverence” stomps along hard, and it’s one of the nastier cuts on this record. And that’s considering that every song on this thing is pretty abrasive. “A Light That Doesn’t Yield” also runs nearly nine minutes, and it has drizzling music that feels like a drenching rain storm on a cold day. There is a post-rock direction to much of this one, with growls emerging to add some ugliness, and gusty drafts that leave chills. Toward the end of the song, strings blend into the picture, and what sounds like a ton of lost voices swirl overhead, leaving you dizzy. The closing title track is a bone gnawer, with destructive riffs that know no mercy, some clean vocals that break up some of the violence, creaky growling in other spots, and a heavy, mean disposition. It’s a to-the-point song that gets in, does its damage, and gets out, with the band not giving a damn about scoring any style points.

Wolvhammer are primed and ready to do some serious damage with “Clawing Into Black Sun.” It’s an impressive, totally listenable, but still perfectly dark record that should find this band a larger audience. They’ve been building momentum over the past five years, and they’ve never sounded like a more dangerous machine. This should be remembered as one of the year’s breakthrough efforts, delivered by a band that’s been putting one bloody building block on top of the next.

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

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

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

Time is littered with bands that have changed their sounds. Sometimes tastes change, and other times band members get older and want to do something a little less extreme and not as taxing on their bodies. But what we have today is one of the most extreme forms of musicians changing their colors and morphing into something different.

For the past decade and over four incredibly influential full-lengths, Wolves in the Throne Room have tapped into the majesty of their wooded surroundings in the Pacific Northwest and have channeled that into some of the most imaginative black metal going in the United States. Hell, even the world. But the brothers Weaver (Nathan and Aaron) never seemed like your typical metal artists, and a common path didn’t seem like something they were interested in taking. Even when they were making some of the most destructive music in the world, they also had their moments of serenity and beauty, and bringing in a singer such as Jessika Kenney, for example, to color those dark corners indicated there was way more going on beneath the surface than most people not entrenched in their camp knew.

Now the band’s fifth full-length opus has arrived in the form of “Celestite,” and will it ever divide the camp of Wolves fans. First, it is entirely devoid of drumming and vocals. Instead, the music that makes up these five tracks is awash in gorgeous waves of ambiance, thick drone, and mysticism one might expect from a New Age record. Some people have cracked that this is a New Age record, but I wouldn’t go nearly that far. Instead, think of what a group like Ulver have been doing the past 10 years or so, and you’ll have a better idea of what to expect. Will it be for everyone? Definitely not. I’m not even sure where it ranks for me among the band’s cataloged recordings. But this record, which is a companion piece to their last record “Celestial Lineage,” sure is a daring move, one they definitely did not do to move more records or play bigger halls because, if anything, this will reduce their disciple count. But it also feels very real, organic, and from the heart of their kingdom, and I have no doubt what they’ve done here aligns with their mission spiritually and artistically.

“Turning Ever Towards the Sun” opens the record with strange noises and a cosmic haze. Sounds blip and pulsate here and there, and eventually the song reaches a state of full majesty. The passage is eerie and spacey, conjuring feelings of unease, and the final moments feel like the tapping of a rapidly beating heart. “Initiation at Neudeg Alm” has the essence of a weird 1980s B-level sci-fi movie, like a “Final Sacrifice” type, but eventually the loopy synth waves settle down, and a thick doom drone guitar charge registers and shakes the walls. That gives the song its sense of danger, and along with that chill is the feeling that you’re going in and out of consciousness with this track. It takes some getting used to, at least for me. “Bridge of Leaves” floats like a dream, staying the same pace and course of for its duration. It makes me think of my mind drifting off miles away during broad daylight, only to return to find myself soberly back in reality.

“Celestite Mirror” is the longest cut at 14:30, and from its earliest moments, it conjures a sense of unease and even dread. It often feels like dusk is falling and the forces of evil are getting ready to make their nighttime ride, with organs pumping heavy smoke into the atmosphere. About 10 minutes in, all of the sounds begin to boil over, the intensity increases, and the thick guitar drone returns, darkening everything in its path. Doom horns begin to call, and that drags the song to its conclusion. Closer “Sleeping Golden Storm” settles into a charged-up synth bed, where it meets murky melodies and eventually a meditation-inducing section that connects mind with spirit. The keys stir up their own sense of drone, there’s a feeling of a choral melody lurking beneath everything. Then the song bleeds out, returning just as the sun begins to rise up again.

What you get out of “Celestite” depends on your patience with the band pursing its artistic muse and if you can handle such a significant departure from sound. Remember, this is a companion record, so while it counts as their fifth, it really wouldn’t exist without “Celestial Lineage” as its seeds. It took me a while to realize the merit of these five tracks and to understand how they worked alongside their last record, and it’s a growing process for me. My journey with the record will continue past these words, and I am curious to see how I feel about this piece six months to a year from now.

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

To buy the album and for more on the label, go here: http://artemisiarecords.bandcamp.com/

Surely you’ve put on a record before that, the moment the sounds begin to assault you from your speakers, you stop dead in your tracks. This doesn’t happen to me often enough, mostly because of metal’s over saturation and that I listen to anywhere from 10-30 new records per week. But when it does, you have my attention.

I just started a new job, and getting used to being up early and driving a vehicle competently among a sea of people who aren’t, took some adjusting. Having music like I described above provided a huge boost, and I got that with “The Process of Self-Immolation,” the debut full-length from Nashville black metal monsters Alraune. The music is immediate, sudden, and savage, and there is a huge wave of creativity locked into their style that separates them from the many other bands trying this same thing. They sound primitive, animalistic, and raw, but they also have a modernity to them that draws you in. It’s sort of like hearing familiar sounds in a new vein, because these guys have their own way of approaching these dark arts and raucously displaying them for you their own way, doubters be damned. This record is such a force, it’s taking two labels to get this madness to the people–Profound Lore is handling CD and digital, while Gilead Media is releasing the vinyl a little later this summer. When you hear this monster, you’ll understand why it’s taking this effort to get it into as many ears as humanly possible.

Depending on what other underground extreme metal bands you follow, you might know some of the players in this formidable new band. Guitarist/vocalist Z. Allen also works as sound engineer for doom metal maulers Loss, plays in Vesicus, and used to play in Mourner; while drummer T. Coburn is a member of noise heathens Yautja (who you need to hear if you haven’t already) as well as Gnarwhal. With them are guitarist J. House and bassist J. Weilburg, and their power is undeniable and full of dynamic energy. Yes their sound is dirty, unpolished, and guttural, but you can hear the inventiveness and freshness of their playing, and they are one of the most exciting new U.S. black metal bands to crop up over the past few years. These guys sound like the future.

The first thing that greets listeners is the off-kilter, string-strangled, but oddly melodic “Prelude,” a brief instrumental that isn’t just there as a standard introduction. It’s alluring and different, and the feel of the thing makes it clear you’re in for something different. “Exordium” practically bursts from its cage, with nasty, feral black metal melodies, and the vocals sound unhinged and able to warp any sense of morality that exists inside you. There are moments of crusty fury, eventually some scintillating atmosphere that slows you down to take some deep breaths, and drums that rip apart any sign of beauty. The band begins to wrap up their loose ends, and the track concludes on a majestic note. “Simulacra” starts with weird guitar playing that sounds like it’s coming from a warped machine, and the it’s onto a prog-fueled section that could have you tilting you head with intrigue. A storm blows in our of the calm, with the band firing hammers at you with some of the most sweltering guitar riffs known to man, and the vocals go from creaky growl to a hardcore-style shout, as if trying to round up like-minded souls to join their mission. The song has a ton of twists and turns, never alerting you when a neck-wrenching turn is coming, and the final moments switch from warm to cold, bleeding into what’s next.

That would be “Kissed By the Red,” a track that opens with soaring glory and static damage that mix together perfectly. Vicious growls roll into cascading black melodies and continual metamorphoses by the band. The track never stays in one place for very long, but it’s not just piling on changes and abrupt halts for nothing. The guys are going somewhere with this, dragging you around unexpected corners, down the wormhole, and as the song reaches its finish, the violence bursts anew. The final moments come from Isla Cameron’s chilling take of “O Willow Waly,” from the 1961 film “The Innocents.” It crackles like it’s spilling in from a dream, and it’s hard not to feel a chill down your spine at that very moment. The closing title track is the longest song on here at 11:17, and it opens in a rabid metallic outburst that is mean and blistering. The vocals sound like they’re coming from an asphyxiated throat, getting across the feeling of chaos and damaged thoughts, and just like the other songs on the record, it twists, turns, and puts on new faces that give the track an entirely new personality continually. Some gazey darkness sweeps in, preceding a section that feels like heavy rains are drowning the earth, and the final minutes of the song are swirling, incredibly ambitious, and trying their damnest to take out as many as people possible with its wilding aimed fists. These ae 38 of the most exciting metal you’ll hear all year long, and the only thing you can do is be thankful that you got to be a part of it.

Alraune is a great new hope for black metal, and their first album “The Process of Self-Immolation” is one you should make a point to hear as soon as possible. This is a destination release for 2014, the emergence of a new band that could be a hellacious force heading into the future and one that could rewrite the template for this style of music. This is a collection that forces heads to turn, as violently as possible, and they have on their hands one of the best debut records of 2014.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/ALRAUNE/132403286836721

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

Or here (click on upcoming/pre-order): http://www.gileadmedia.net/store/

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

Or here: http://www.gileadmedia.net/

One of the many things that makes metal so great is that it practically is a living, breathing organism. It has developed over time, starting as something that grew out of the blues into a beast that is altogether its own thing. It didn’t get there overnight, and it took bands that took chances to keep pushing the boundaries.

You really can’t just say “heavy metal” anymore, as it has so many offshoots that the term only applies in the loosest sense. That’s a positive thing, as it has made for the inclusion or artists and sounds that perhaps would not have been embraced a decade or two ago and made it part of its DNA. If this was 2000 or 1990, chances are that England’s Sunwølf would not be a part of the conversation on a site like this and might even struggle to find where they belong. But the genre has changed, and we have progressed as listeners, so a band like this totally has a place somewhere up on that massive, heavily branched family tree. Yes, they have their heavy, doggedly punishing moments that might remind some of bands such as Neurosis or Cult of Luna, but they also have calmer, more picturesque sections to their music that could help them find favor among a great deal of hard rock or indie rock fans.

The band has returned with their incredible, compelling new double album “Beholden to Nothing and No One,” and this sprawling gem is one that’ll captivate you from the first moments and take you on a 14-track journey that’ll go by in a flash. There are elements of doom, death, and sludge, but there also are huge post-rock sections, folk tendencies, and atmospheric wonders that blend beautifully. The band has toured with artists that speak to their musical diversity, including Jesu, Chelsea Wolfe, and Forest Swords, and their sound also would sound perfect preceding bands such as Boris or Deafheaven. Not that they sound like those groups. They just have enough in common that they’d make great bedfellows. The duo of Matt Carrington and Dominic Deane is joined by some special guests along the way and put together their most expansive document yet, and each side of this mammoth differ from each other greatly. That’s just another element that makes this record so powerful.

The first half of the record is 50 minutes, and it’s the heavier, gnarlier of the two. “In the Darkened River I Found the Silence Loom” opens the album with a wave of ambiance and drone, with guitars eventually trickling in. Tiffany Ström of Myyths provides vocals, with her lovely voice adding a dream-state element to the song–she reminds me a lot of the aforementioned Wolfe–and the 7:13-long opener eventually fades into the night and paves the way for “The Widow’s Oil.” That cut has clean, cold guitar work that drizzles and causes shivers, leading into “Vultures Crown,” the heaviest cut on the record and one that’ll take off your head. The vocals are gritty and howled, there is a hulking dose of metallic violence, and the song is heavy as hell. “The Wake of the Leviathan” also is devastating and menacing, with chugging riffs, noise that pierces your eardrums, and wild howls including, “We drown at their feet!” “Thrown Into a Nameless Time” is buzzing and hypnotic for its first minutes, and then it begins clubbing you hard, with throaty growls, droning clean singing, and mucky sounds that hang in the air. “Totem” is a smothering instrumental caked with mud, and it’s followed by the title cut, that takes its time to start burning, and once it does, Peter Finch’s speech from “Network” sweeps in and adds a dramatic, forceful blast. “Heathen’s Rest” caps off the first half, as the 10:14-long burner meanders purposely and has a burnt Western feel to it. This song has amazing body and emotion, complete with vocals that’ll arrest your soul, and it’s an ideal segue into the second half of the record.

Part two of “Beholden to Nothing and No One” runs 35 minutes, and it’s pulled back, more atmospheric, and more reflective. The 7:15 “Twelve Sunne” begins with pulsating sounds and cosmic noises that reverberate in your mind. There is a clip from a Noam Chomsky speech woven into the song, giving it a sobering dose of reality, and that track bleeds into “Come O Spirit, Dwell Among Us” that sizzles from the very start. There is an ambient haze, but noise beneath it begins to bubble and swell, threatening any sense of calm you may have achieved. Guitars moan and whine, sounding equally in pain and ecstasy, and all of the sounds combine to cry a river all the way to the song’s conclusion. “Ithaca” is a shorter track, with a field of horns adding humidity, and dusty guitars injecting psychedelic power into the scene. “Symptoms of Dearth” has a slow, sprawling personality, and it reminds a bit of Earth’s later-era work. The melodies set in over time and get into your bloodstream, and horns rear their heads again and provide a brassy finish. “Lotus Island” is the darkest cut on the second half of the album, as chant-like vocals spread out, with electric stabs lacing the area with bruises. Doomy waters begin to flow heavily, with a sense of danger rising up, and the final moments eventually release their grip and permit air back into your lungs. Closer “Of Darknesse” is the perfect way to let you off gently, with piano notes dripping, somber and dreary melodies unfurling, a female voice calling out, and the record folding itself up and fading much in the same way it introduced itself. It’s quite a journey you’ll take with this record, and don’t be surprised if you go back again and again. I know I have.

Sunwølf is another band pushing the limits of heavy metal and infusing new ideas and sounds into the genre and their own work. This third album “Beholden to Nothing and No One” is a fantastic record that gives you heaviness and inventiveness, and every moment of this thing is worth fully absorbing. This is a band that hasn’t met its full potential yet on a recognition standpoint, but this record very well could get them there. They already have the artistic chops. The only way you can be disappointed by this music and this band is if you have no heart or soul.

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

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

Feeling miserable, detached, and without tangible hope is a way for going through life for some people. Not everyone has the same fortunes as you or is as happy as you are (and the opposite also can be true), and it can be healthy for us to immerse ourselves in darkness just so we can appreciate the good in our lives.

That’s why new music from Wreck and Reference always is a sobering way to realize things aren’t as bad as one imagines. These guys sound like they’re on the brink of self-destruction, if they’re not literally reporting from that area while creating their music, and the band’s new record “Want” is a volatile trip through dark emotions one cannot hope to control and violent outbursts that can be as mental as they are physical. Nothing this band does ever goes down easily or smoothly, and what they accomplish on their latest album is explosive, teetering-on-the-brink of insanity madness that captures your mind and then crushes it until the juice comes out.

Over the course of their two dull-length records and two smaller releases, the band of vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Felix Skinner and drummer Ignat Frege have made a musical world entirely their own. They don’t fit into a genre, not nicely anyway, and while they have elements of doom, metal, hardcore, New Wave, No Wave, post-rock, and a ton of other sources, they don’t fully belong in any one of those areas. On “Want,” they push even further into abrasion, terror, and psychotic isolation, even more so than they did on “Youth” and “Content.” The vocals are angrier, more forceful, and filled with manic growls and shrieks, while musically, the palette is richer than ever before. What remains are what sound like rants of desperation and struggle to make sense with the world and things that happen to darken one’s life. The music is a reaction to that, and it’s impossible not to feel every ounce of pain and torment.

You get a heavy dose of what’s so different this time around on the monstrous, ugly opener “Corpse Museum,” that is dressed in distressed, death-like howls, weird doom clouds that blacken the area, and strange percussion. Amid echoes and buzzing melodies, Skinner imagines being gunned down in a crime of passion, and repeatedly observes something that’s “never ending, always ending, floating away.” “Apollo Beneath the Whip” pulls the vocals back to a deep croon, with somber destruction dominating and the song coming to a sudden, bleak end. “Stranger, Fill This Hole in Me” is disconcerting from its title, but then digging in, you get slow, spacey atmosphere, psychedelic lashings, eerie keys, and Skinner vowing, “I don’t want to feel.” “Bankrupt” returns to off-kilter screaming, deranged melodies, and cold keys that easily could freeze you. Noise begins to spit sparks, stinging you skin, and the slow-paced drum beats make the pace feel deliberate. “A Glass Cage for an Animal” has roiling noises, with primitive-style wailing of, “He knows the price of his apparent freedom,” like he’s an animal subject to the bars. It sounds like frozen, winter-ridden hardcore. “A Tax” trickles like a ghost, making everything uncomfortable, with drone, foggy transmissions, and vocals that go from singing to speaking to shouting.

“Flies” feel ominous and angelic, if that was a horrible, torturous thing. There is choral backing, noise that buzzes and penetrates, and numbing tones that lull you into a drug-like state of bliss. Then you’re awakened hard by the mad cries of, “With our hands out to the sky, just to surrender,” as if Skinner has endured too much pain to go on and can’t quite determine the proper avenue for his own mercy. “Convalescence” is like a damp, unwelcome draft coming through your window, with chilled, detached vocals that sound robotic, and eventually the complete disintegration of the senses. “Machine of Confusion” is a bowl of cosmic soup, gray, with all kinds of odd matter scattered about, and static-stained vocals that sound delivered from beyond. “Shallow” has a sci-fi synth edge to it, with throaty, pained vocals, weird blips, and an eventual request for information with, “Is this the end?” Closer “Apologies” is dense and soaking in organ fog, wild screams, and threads of solemnity. It feels like the last whims of a beaten man, with repeated cries of, “Surrender!” that both seem like a plea and an observation of the narrator’s crumbled mind.

Each Wreck and Reference release is its own beast and also feels like its being followed by one just as bloodthirsty. The noise, panic, personal chaos, and psychotic detachment contained in these songs could make you fumble for a light or a friend or some kind of solace. The tracks on “Want” dig in that deep, making for one of the most disturbing, mentally terrifying, yet artistically stimulating records to surface so far this year. God help us if someone figures out a way to top it.

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

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

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

With all of the full-length records that come out each month, it’s easier for the smaller releases to get lost in the shuffle. We try not to let that happen here, and there is a nice collection of 7-inch records that have come out recently that deserve your attention.

Whatever style of metal is your preference, there is something good for you to enjoy, and the one we are going to feature today sold out in Pittsburgh in practically no time. If you don’t have it by now, sorry. You may never have a physical copy of it, and that’s a major loss for you. But there are plenty more new mini releases out that you can get your hands on and annoy your neighbors, family, pets, whoever as you set these up on your turntable to do as much auditory damage as possible.

Let’s start with Pittsburgh death metal crushers Derketa, who helped pioneer the death and doom sound in the city and who have been on a killer roll ever since their full-length “In Death We Meet” arrived in 2012. They’ve certainly been busy playing shows, including a bunch around here, and now they’ve hit back with a special 7-inch release in conjunction with Mind Cure Records. That shop is located in the Polish Hill neighborhood of Pittsburgh and started to put out monthly singles by local bands, also featuring Killer of Sheep, Old Head, and Mud City Manglers (a band that also features Derketa guitarist Mary Bielich). Derketa’s was just released last month, and unless you happened to hit the shop the weekend it was released, you’re out of luck. That sucker flew off the shelves, and all copies are now spoken for (though it’s possible to find one locally at Sound Cat Records or Desolation Row).

You can hear the songs online (check out You Tube and Reverb Nation), and plans are in the works for the tracks to be released digitally in the future. Keep checking with the band’s Facebook link below for more info as to when you can grab these two tracks. And you’ll really want to get these in your ears as soon as you can, because the band sounds doom-encrusted, grisly, and fiendishly melodic as always, kicking off with the new band-penned cut “Darkness Fades Life.” It’s pure, true Derketa death, a nice extension of their album and a bloody step into the future, with guitarist Sharon Bascovsky’s growls sounding like they’re emanating from a dusty, web-marred grave. If this song is a sign as to how their next album is going to sound, then it cannot get here fast enough. The B side is a real treat, a cover of the Sepultura classic “Troops of Doom.” It’s a nice amalgamation of thrash and death, and the band puts a dark, bludgeoning spin on it. This is a smothering release for Derketa, and they remain the reigning masters of death metal in Pittsburgh. Next up: The world.

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

For more on Mind Cure, go here:http://mindcurerecords.com/

Krieg have been especially busy on the 7-inch front, as the Neill Jameson-led project has two new ones out for your consumption. We’ll start with Krieg’s split collaboration with the mighty Wolvhammer, brought to you by Broken Limbs Recordings. Krieg hammer you with grimy black metal on “Eternal Victim.” The track sounds like a threatening thunderstorm hanging overhead as the fury full unfurls. The band unloads a thrash assault that drips with darkness, and the vocals eventually go unhinged and deranged. It’s not pretty, to be sure, but it’s a fine piece of work that should make longtime Krieg fans more than happy. Wolvhammer’s cut “Slave to the Grime” is a rough version of the track of the same name that’s on the band’s destructive new record “Clawing Into Black Sun.” It’s a nice appetizer cut for those who haven’t heard the record yet or are new to the band, and it’s chock full of morose melodies and gritty pounding. Really good track, and a 7-inch release you should probably buy right now.

For more on Krieg, go here: https://www.facebook.com/officialkrieg

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

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

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

As noted, there is more Krieg for you, this time on a split with Ramlord that’s being released in mid July by Unholy Anarchy. On this record, Krieg rips open with “Mocking Dead Empires,” a track that’s black metal for sure, but it also has a filthy punk feel to it as well. It bludgeons and speeds over your prone body, with tasty riffs and wheels moving faster than you can handle. The other track is a cover of DOOM’s “Worthless Nothing” that is as ugly and gritty as they come. It’s a pretty fun look at the song, albeit in a way that could bloody you, and it might be the main event of this collection for some. Ramlord’s tyranny is obvious from the start of “Grey Sky Prison,” a track that mixes doom, hardcore, and noise into one ball of hell. The vocals sound spat out forcefully by a disconnected lunatic, and the guitar work should get fists pumping. “From Absolution to Eradication” has much the same sound, with raspy yowled vocals and as familiar melody, and after 1:08, the thing is over. Cool pairing and a completely deranged collection, which is a good thing.

For more on Ramlord, go here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ramlord/116149375131744

To buy the record, go here: http://www.store.unholyanarchy.com/

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

We wrap up with a split collection pitting Germany’s Ruins with the U.S.’s Usnea, a pretty damn strong pairing. Ruins get started with “Discrimen,” a sludgy, blistering cut that also has a decent dose of atmosphere. The vocals are practically barked out, while the music boils underneath, and the build is done expertly, leading you into each peak and valley. It’s a tremendously heavy bastard, and each second of this thing could make you want to wrap your fist around a pole. Usnea’s “Only the End of the World” begins rather gently, with clean notes floating in and bending. But you know it’s not to last, and that pays off when the doom hammer drops and the gory vocals spill into the scene. The panic drives slowly, and as the song progresses, the band digs into muddy terrain, dragging you face-first along their quest. The song bubbles when it needs to, demands your interest stay put, and delivers a heavy debt. These two bands deserve more attention, and perhaps this release will lead to each band getting exactly that.

For more on Ruins, go here: http://www.blacksquares.de

For more on Usnea, go here: https://www.facebook.com/usneadoom

To buy the record, go here: http://www.halooffliesrecords.com/releases/

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