Surachai Sutthisasanakul

If metal had more artists half as adventurous as Surachai Sutthisasanakul, the terrain would be a lot more exciting to traverse. Over the course of three full-length albums and a handful of EPs, the Chicago-based artist has made some of the more perplexing and stimulating sounds the genre could boast, and he made these weird, metallic creations on his own, with no backing band.

But he changed his mind about the collaboration deal going into the third Surachai album “Embraced,” a platter being released on Trash_Audio and Bandcamp, and that he made, for the first time ever, with a full band. It’s not like his audience was clamoring for him to try something different, because this project was moving along nicely, having last checked in with 2011’s tremendous “To No Avail,” a two-track, 21-minute wonder that remains in my listening arsenal to this day. But what the audience wants and what the artist wants don’t have to be the same, and considering Sutthisasanakul is the one in charge of making this art, he needs to follow his whims, and we need to trust him. Luckily doing that pays huge dividends with “Embraced,” one of the fieriest Surachai albums to date.

This three-track, nearly 34-minute album is the beefiest Surachai album to date, and perhaps having extra personnel to help Sutthisasanakul achieve his vision also helped him expand his creativity. The songs are boisterous, aggressive, but also very intelligent, and the closest comparison I can think of to compare this to is Krallice’s work. But that’s only a comparison, as Surachai’s music is completely distinguishable from that band, but if you need to associate it with another group’s sound, there you go. Surachai always changes things up with weird noises, heady programming, and other sonic additions that complement the music and keep you wondering where this is going next. It’s an incredible experience all around, and it’s the best Surachai album to date.

I mentioned the extra cast surrounding Sutthisasanakul, and they are guitarists Shane Prendeville (Guzzlemug, Murmur) and Andrew Markuszewski (who you’ll know from his black metal project Avichi, as well as from Nachtmystium and the mighty Lord Mantis), acoustic bassist Tom Kelly (also of Guzzlemug), drummer Charlie Werber (also of Guzzlemug, Murmur), sound designer Richard Devine (Warp, Schematic), and buchla easel player Alessandro Cortini (How to Destroy Angels). That’s a formidable collection of musicians in general, but the fact they’ll all Chicago-based is a little intimidating.

The band launches into “Ancestral,” with dizzying melodies, guitars that are trying to hypnotically warp the mind, and harsh vocals that sound savage and determined. This is where the Krallice comparison first feels right, but just as they lean into that weird, spacey black metal headspace, it comes to a halt, and programming slips in, treating everything with a chilly woosh. Then it blows back up again into a full storm, only to slip back into an alien calm that takes us into “Sentinel.”

That song also begins with a breezy frame of mind, but before long a doom-infested landslide takes place, and out of that rises shoegazey guitars and more crazed howls. There’s a nice long section in the middle where everyone plays off each other musically, and it ends in full robotic mode, feeling like someone’s trying to process your emotion in some kind of antiseptic lab. Closer “Surrender” rises from the ashes, still ensconced in the lab but also ready to ramp up its fury to new, frightening levels. A black haze and off-kilter strangeness spill in and change the complexion of the song, going even further into adventurous sonic examinations, sometimes letting chaos back into the picture. But as the song boils seemingly out of control, serenity glides in, the band lets their lungs fill with air, and you’re allowed to exhale with them as the album comes to its conclusion.

Surachai’s journey continues to go into unexpected corners, and it’s one of the reasons this project remains so rewarding to follow. On top of that, Sutthisasanakul’s creativity know no bounds, and whether he’s by himself or with an incredibly accomplished group of players, he always comes up with compositions that keep you engaged and enthralled. This is his best work to date, though I don’t question he’ll top himself next time around. It’s just what he does.

For more on the band, go here: http://surachai.org/

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

Or here: http://surachai.bandcamp.com/album/embraced

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

I’ve mentioned before that I try to go out of my way to not read biographical material on new bands because I don’t want anything in a press release or history to sway my manner of thinking about the music I’m about to experience. Fair or not, those details can influence a way a person thinks about or prematurely judges music, and that can be unfair.

But avoiding bios or press releases isn’t always something that can be done, and in fact, try as I might not to read too far ahead the first time I hear a band, I’m typically not successful in that venture. In fact, when the debut from Ruin Lust landed in my inbox, all I had to see was a member of Fell Voices was in that band, and it immediately made me anticipate a certain sound and a particular way of doing things. Fell Voices have their times where they can be volcanic and confrontational, but their epics tend to be atmospheric and thought provoking, giving you a few punches in the gut when you need it. But we’re only talking one FV member in this band — that being drummer Mike (who also contributes vocals) — that having that preconceived notion wasn’t giving proper due to the other two members. Of course, one visit with their five-song debut changed all of that.

Ruin Lust seem hell bent on destroying you mentally and physically form the word “go,” and the molten fury that sprawls forth on their self-titled album sounds like the product of pure anger and aggression. These guys mar the shit out of you, and in a live setting, I could see things perhaps getting a little out of hand. Guitarist/vocalist Joe and bassist/vocalist Seth join Mike to create thrashing, mashing, doom-friendly black metal that goes right for the throat. They’re not concerned with playing with atmospherics and trying to set a heady mood. They’re here for the pure demolition of it all, and you’ll know that to be true mere moments after you put the music on and let yourself be abducted, beaten, and left in a field with the air stinging your oozing wounds.

Opener “Obedience” gives you a good idea of what’s in store for you on this record, with deep, vicious growls, crushing savagery, and thrashy meanness that has nothing but ill intent in store for you. Eventually it slows down and slips into doomy terrain, lurching like a monster. “Primal Vision” is fast, fiery, and violent, mashing you into submission, and driving and penetrating into your face with its drilling melodies. Toward the end, Joe’s soloing catches fire and shows a more dynamic side to the band. “Tethered and Lashed” is blistering and totally dominating, with drums that seek to bruise your face and thrashy lead lines that are as fun as they are violent. Toward the end, the guys hit a nice groove and light shit on fire, with scorching chaos spilling all over the place.

The final two cuts make up the two-part “Skin Hunger” that takes up about the final 12 minutes of the collection. Part 1 is drubbing and doom-infested, trudging along in its gruesome tracks and letting things reach a new level of ugliness. Harsh, skin-shredding vocals blast into the scene, and it sets the pace for Part 2, which ignites from the start. A thundering drum assault blasts open, and the guitars reach a spooky black metal-style haunting that might ice your skin cells. The song is a clobbering serving of metallic carnage that never relents for even a second and ends the record of a smoldering note.

Ruin Lust’s debut is a fantastic listen, and I imagine these songs will sound even better and more explosive in a live setting. These three guys do a fine job suiting and dealing out punishment, and while they still have a ways to go before they match the underground profile of Fell Voices, there’s no reason they can’t get there in time, if that’s something that even matters to them. In the meantime, I hope they keep refining their skills to become an even deadlier killing machine.

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

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

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

I love to be totally off-my-ass surprised by a metal record and its situation, and that’s turned into something that doesn’t happen nearly as often as I would like it to these days. That’s likely a product of oversaturation, some bands not really being all that ready to make records, and labels just signing whatever the fuck will get them some money.

When I got an e-mail from Gilead Media about the release of the debut record from Lychgate, I was excited because I trust the label and know they put out good music. It also made me seek out a little bit more about the Cambridge-based band that I didn’t know a lot about beyond their band name and minor details about their sound. Gilead Media certainly has a nice range of sounds that go from rugged black metal to more atmospheric bands in that same sub-genre, and also some sludge and some hardcore-influenced sounds. From what I understood about Lychgate, this seemed to be a venture in an entirely new direction, and now that I’ve heard and fully absorbed the band’s self-titled debut, that line of thinking is confirmed, and it’s an exciting new venture for the label (Mordgrimm will handle the release in the UK).

If someone had played me the Lychgate record before I knew anything about them and asked me to pick what label it’s on, I might go with Debemur Morti or Profound Lore, because this band seems right up their alleys. But Gilead Media jumped on these guys, and much to their credit, they’re going to be the ones recognized for bringing this creepy, creaky, spirited doom metal band to the States and exposing one of the more interesting outfits from this sub-genre I’ve heard in a while. They also have a bit of black metal eeriness in their sound, which adds yet another level of darkness. This Lychgate record taught me two things: Even a sub-genre that seems flooded with content can pull out something exhilarating and rewarding when the artists behind it have a true passion and course of action that makes you realize they mean business. Second, never try to guess what a strong label is up to, because they’ll always find a way to pull out the stops and surprise you.

Lychgate actually started as Archaicus, led solely by Vortigern, who handles guitars, chants, and the huge organs you hear haunting this record. Joining him now are Greg Chandler on guitars and vocals, who you might know better from his role with mighty doom merchants Esoteric, bassist Aran (Lunar Aurora), and drummer Tom Vallely (Omega Centauri). They’re a mighty team, and their sound practically reeks of early ’90s British doom, which is a huge plus for a listener like me, and those aforementioned organs add an insane level of dark soulfulness, making you feel like you need to genuflect before them to avoid whatever curse they plan to put on your head. Don’t expect their mercy.

“The Inception” is your dusty introduction track, that lets its horrible spirit into the room and gives it time to find a nice corner of your room to scare your senseless. “Resentment” unfurls slowly, with dark riffs, allowing cold, dusty drapery to crash over the windows and inspires a creaky, weary ache in your soul. Chandler’s growls are harsh and deep, and once the organs spill all over, things are damn near liturgical. “Against the Paradoxical Guild” is more fierce and screamy, showing some of their black metal tendencies and savagery, with mournful guitar lines and blistering drums. “In Self Ruin” brings back the giant chest heaves of organ, that sound downright ritualistic, and again we’re leveled with a heavier approach and more aggressive tempo. “Sceptre to Control the World” has an old-school death metal bend, and yet there are dreary, doomy sentiments included, along with a melody that evokes sorrow.

“Intermezzo,” as I’m sure you guessed, is an interlude track, whirry and airy, also ghostlike. “Triumphalism” is one of the shortest tracks on the record and is punchy and to the point, getting in, creating a body count, and moving on to the next unfortunate household. “Dust of a Gun Barrel” has  Deathspell Omega-style experimentation, with its slurry, hypnotic melodies and creaked growls. The whole song is off-kilter and unsettling, and if it doesn’t chill you to the bone, you might already be deceased. Closer “When Scorn Can Scourge No More” has that aforementioned ’90s feel big time, bringing back thoughts of old Paradise Lost and Cathedral, and its doom-encrusted sensibility, shoegazey dreaming, and intoxicating grimness is a great way to bring this record crashing to its conclusion.

Lychgate is another tremendous find for Gilead Media, and this band should be one of the more exciting doom projects going forward. They have a personality few others in the tidal wave of doom can boast, and I’m sure experience and hunger are primary reasons for that. This is a really strong debut that hopefully is the first of many terrifying chapters to come.

For more on the band, go here: http://lychgate.eu/

To buy the album, go here: http://www.gileadmedia.net/store/

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

Music has the ability to heal, even when it’s vitriolic and furious, because it knows where to find your inner chaos, greet it, stamp it out, and give you a breath of fresh air. There’s something good about being able to get lost in chaos and overcome by swarming noise.

I constantly turn to the noisiest, most sprawling music possible when I feel like I need a mental and spiritual lift, and even if I’m angry or agitated, this route seems to work better than when I try to turn to, say, violent death metal. I want to let the tension release slowly so I can feel the pressure subside and regain my wits about me. It’s a reason why a band such as Fell Voices has meant a lot more to me. They’re than just a band that makes incredible music; their work also acts as catharsis and psychological therapy for me, and everything they’ve put out so far has spoken to me from this angle.

Now comes the band’s ambitious, challenging new album “Regnum Saturni,” a tumultuous, atmospherically driven new effort comprised of three epics that spill over a double LP. It runs a little over 66 minutes, and every second of this collection is gripping and artistically rewarding. The whole thing was recorded live, so you’re hearing exactly how the band envisions the songs to be born, live, and fade away and weren’t put together piecemeal like most records are. That adds extra spark and dynamic energy to “Regnum Saturni” and makes for one of Fell Voices’ most exciting releases to date. In fact, they just seem to be getting better and better, building peaks upon peaks, and now three full-length albums into their run, it’s time for them to be recognized as one of America’s most exciting and adventurous black metal bands by a greater group of people. If you still haven’t heard Fell Voices, what is holding you back? Now is the time.

The band is a trio and remain fairly mysterious as far as full names go (I don’t get why more people don’t opt for that since people on the Internet are fucking nuts), with Joseph on bass and vocals, Tucker on guitars, and drummer Mike (also of Ruin Lust, who we’ll be talking about soon) on drums and vocals. Their musical connection has grown more steady and cosmic as time has gone on, and as great as their untitled 2010 release was, this one is superior by far and is truly indicative of a band at its creative apex.

“Flesh From Bone” opens with a long drone section that sounds like what an alarm system might if you were under the influence of some thick syrup. Then the shimmery noise bursts open with a thunderous assault, shrieks that are buried underneath the tidal waves of noise, and a furious sequence of punishment takes over. Once the panic subsides a bit, synth murk emerges, and a gothy, eerie spirit arises and floats over. Doom-laced melodies take over from there, and that continues until drone rises again like a sleepy curse.

The drone continues into “Emergence,” where a swarm takes flight that’s packed Armageddon sirens, and the noise pulsates and quivers until the metallic explosions kick up again about three minutes into the track, eventually letting a groove set in that the band rides to fiery glory. Doom drama bubbles again to the surface, wild howls and shrieks rip into any serenity you might feel, and primal melodies drub and bash you against cement walls. The guitar lines repeat and nearly achieve a hypnotic state, and the buzzing again returns and whips the song into a lather as is rinses away and sets the stage for the closer.

“Dawn” continues (and ends) the story with the same drone line that holds the entire piece together, and the early minutes are warm like young sunbeams on your cheeks. But something seems amiss in the midst of this song, like that early morning calm is about to be ripped asunder by tragedy, and when the hammer does fall, a world-crushing melody swells up and boils over onto the song, with distant shrieks swirling into cascading guitars. Sorrow and pain seem to bleed from the seams of this piece, almost as if the composition isn’t big enough to handle all the emotional tumult, yet it perseveres and carries the band into the hellish vortex that drives the song to its final isolated screams and concluding noise glaze.

Fell Voices know how to channel their inner turmoil and energy, and clearly every time I need their records for some much-needed catharsis, they over-deliver. “Regnum Saturni” is another in a line of incredible documents that stretch the boundaries of black metal and what you know extreme music and thinking to be. They excel at cosmic atmosphere, violent underpinnings, and murky chasms, and they’ve never made music as gigantic and compelling as this. And chances are they’ll top themselves next time around.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.gileadmedia.net/store/

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

So, on your list of ways you hope you die, how far up is “devoured by giant wolf”? Pretty high up there? Maybe not so much, for some of you less adventurous types? Whatever way, it’s going to happen to us all, so why not go out in the most violent, uncomfortable manner possible, am I right? OK, let’s move on. I’m uncomfortable now.

All of this is in reference to “Fenris Kindir” (Fenris’ kin) the eighth record from Swedish metal heathens Arckanum, a record that’s a tribute to the Norse legend Fenris, a giant wolf that is predicted to break free at the climax of Ragnarok and devour the sun and moon. Mankind will be busy being burned to death and drowning in oceans, but for anyone who survives all of that hell, there’s this giant wolf with which to contend who, for all intents and purposes, is going to turn out the lights. For good. It is to him these songs are dedicated, and the album is inspired by the leader of the wolves and devourer of large celestial bodies, one of which is completely engulfed in flames.

I reference Arckanum as a we above, and that’s not really accurate. I tend to do that with band names, but really, all of this is the work and imaginative drive of Shamaatae, who has driven this ship from its emergence more than two decades ago. In that time, he has put out a collection of stirring, often forestal-sounding platters of raw, atmospheric black metal that’s slowly gotten the attention of the rest of the metal world. His work now is firmly ensconced on the mighty Season of Mist label, but it took him a while to get there, putting out debut “Fran Marder” on Necropolis and continuing on with imprints such as Debemur Morti and Regain before landing where he is now. The output has been stirring and ambitious, always worthy of your undivided attention, and the work he does on “Fenris Kindir” certainly is a worthy addition to the already bustling catalog.

The origin of Arckanum’s story is based on chaos-gnosis and anti-cosmic Satanism, a subject you can go ahead and research yourself because we try to stay away from spiritual issues here. I care about metal and don’t really care about stuff like this even if it directly affects or inspires the music. I just want to know what the records sound like. But recently Shamaatae has gone to exploring more Norse topics, such as what you’ll find on this record and what he did on “Helvitismyrkr” that explore old mythology and reveal the more violent, chaotic, and thornier side of these legends. Also, the music is the polar opposite of what someone like Amon Amarth has done with the subject matter. Arckanum are far more dangerous and deadly, and you’ll know that from the moment the record begins that you aren’t in for glorious, movie-style adventures. You’re going to bleed and pay the price instead.

“Fenris Kindir” works like a single piece of music, as each track flows into the one that follows, and we get a brief introduction with “Fenris Kindir Grua” to set the stage and the mood. “Tungls Tjugari” opens the brutality in earnest with charged-up riffs, chugging melodies, and heathen-like screams and growls that sound like they were transported from the origins of mankind. It’s then into “Dolgrinn” that has a mean, classic black metal sound and really interesting growled phrasing. Really cool delivery. I don’t know what he’s on about because I don’t speak the old Norse tongue, but I’m paying attention nonetheless. “Hatarnir” rips open with a thick bassline, thrashy, pulverizing riffs, and punk-fueled intensity. There is garbling at the end that very well could be backward messaging, but again, not speaking the language, I could be wrong. Creepy either way. “Hamrami” is an interlude that has a Dark Ages aura, and it leads you into the second half of the record.

“Fenris Gangr” is punishing and aggressive, with dogs howling and a dark atmosphere unfurling and blanketing the land with darkness. “Vargold” is a strange piece that’s … I guess an instrumental? It’s made up of war chants, troops stomping, animals snarling, and human howls, but no actual music. “Angrboda” picks up the intensity from there, with a primitive black metal assault, menacing growls, eerie chanting, and noises that sound like they were field recorded in an ancient dungeon. “Uskepna” rips back into muddy punk and monstrous intensity, with the vicious growls leading the way. “Spell” is smashing and raspy, with Shamaatae at his very beastly best vocally, ripping apart everything in front of him with a bloodthirst. Then the record ends on a bizarre note with the string-filled, totally strange “Solbols Sigr,” a track that’s an outro that ends very abruptly. But for some reason, it works for an Arckanum album.

Each Arckanum album brings its own twists and surprises, and this record follows that path nicely. It’s one of Shamaatae’s most cohesive, catchy albums, but it never sacrifices its raw intensity. “Fenris Kindr” is another strong entry in the Arckanum story, and even if I don’t relish the end game of utter chaos, I certainly can behind the spirit that makes this project so explosive.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://e-shop.season-of-mist.com/en

For more on the label, go here: http://www.season-of-mist.com/

Metal’s always been somewhat self-referential, to Darkthrone writing songs about the genre and decrying its fall from the past, to bands having songs that are practical anthems since they’re named after themselves, such as Iron Maiden, Motorhead, and Black Sabbath. But a band writing an album about themselves? That’s another level of ridiculous.

OK, that last bit actually isn’t the case with “Pelagial,” the latest record from German metal collective The Ocean. Yes, their new record is about a trip from the surface to the deepest depths of the ocean and what’s encountered along the way both physically and mentally, but it isn’t actually about the dudes in the band. Clear enough? But it’s still kind of amusing, at least on the surface, that the Ocean finally got around the making a record about the ocean, something you’d think they’d have tackled long ago. Instead, their ambitious, epic-length records have covered so much other ground, from the formation of the Earth itself to a sprawling critique of Christianity, that they haven’t gotten around to a full-blown adventure centered on their namesake.

If you’ve been along for the entire ride with the Ocean, as I have, you know that this band doesn’t do anything small when it comes to their full-length records. They have multi-part albums that tie together, and even in the midst of one piece of something that acts as part of a larger whole, you’re still waylaid with material that, while exciting and astonishing musically, can be overwhelming. You definitely need to set time aside to absorb these albums as a whole. But “Pelagial” is a little different. Instead of the challenging lengths of most of their records, this one is a compact, digestible 53 minutes long. I listened to the whole thing the other day while cutting grass and actually needed to restart the album because it ended before my work. Very un-Ocean of them, but a welcome change. Now, this is the Ocean after all, so even when they serve up a smaller portion there’s a catch, and that comes in the form of “Pelagial” existing in two versions: one instrumental, the other with vocals. Other than the singing, they slightly differ sonically, but the band basically gives you two ways to absorb their sixth record. It’s up to you which one you like best.

Loic Rossetti is the frontman for the Ocean, and health problems were originally the reasons why there were no vocals for this album. Luckily he recovered, and the band decided on two versions of the album. He’s been a part of the band since 2009 and joined in time for the last jointed project, 2010’s “Heliocentric” and “Anthropocentric.” Rounding out this lineup are guitarists Robin Staps and Jonathan Nido, bassist Louis Jucker, and drummer Luc Hess. As we’ve come to expect, the band is tight and atmospheric, the music truly does resemble a trip to the depths of majestic bodies of water, and compositions resemble even more progressive steps in their playing and presentation. It’s a really well-made, fully realized idea that rewards the listener again and again.

We’re just going to talk about the version of the album with the vocals since the instrumental version is basically the same. You know, just without vocals. “Epipelagic” opens the record with bubbling, piano dripping, and the feeling like you’re being immersed in a giant body of water and on your long way down. “Mesopelagic: The Uncanny,” named for the Twilight zone of the ocean just off the Continental Shelf, begins gently and serenely before the song ignites, and Rossetti observes, “The light is fading,” which lets you imagine what you would be experiencing if you were on this ride. That spills into the three-part “Bathyalpelagic” section, taking its name from the Midnight zone off the Continental Slope. “Impasses” is the first section, and it has a progressive bend to its post-metal landscape, reminding a bit of a nastier Thrice; “The Wish in Dreams” is the middle portion, with thick, tricky compositions that keep you tied into the journey, while Rossetti wonders, “How much control do we have over what we wish for?” The final part of this triptych, “Disequillibrated” has a thornier opening that sounds like it’s black metal-inspired, and the aggression continues throughout its running time, eventually fading out in a claustrophobic, underwater signals that sound like being stuck in a submarine.

From there it’s onto the two-part “Abyssopelagic” portion, that is named for the section called The Abyss (obviously) that is off the Continental Rise and Ocean Basin. It begins with the “Boundless Vasts” part of the song, has cool melody lines and eventually some muscular sludging, and that turns into “Signals of Anxiety, a song that might remind you of ISIS or Intronaut with its muddy melodies and growly singing, but eventually it goes into mid-tempo territory and sounds ballad-like. “Hadopelagic” (the Trenches) also gets a two-part portion, starting with a liquidy intro cut that smashes into the 9:18 second section “Let Them Believe,” that is chunky, gruff, and really fucking good. “Demersal,” named for the second-to-lowest section of the ocean, is a 9:05 serving of pounding post-metal crushing that is fitting as our journey gets ready to reach its conclusion, and the drama is at its apex. Closer “Benthic: The Origin of Our Wishes,” takes us back to where everything originated. It’s thunderous, sludgy, and explodes with life, making it the proper sendoff for a journey back to where life started and the very thing from which this band takes its name and, for this record, its inspiration.

The Ocean never fail to keep us captivated, and they’ve found a way to be even more effective while remaining forward-thinking and ambitious at the same time. This is the record this band obviously had to make eventually (thematically, of course), and they did a pretty damn good job making it compelling, heavy, and dream-inducing. No idea what these guys will try next (the history of food-borne pathogens?), but chances are they’ll find a crazy way to make it awesome and top themselves again.

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

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

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

With the weekend nearly in our grasp and another work week taking its physical and mental toll on our bodies (I see that as a good thing, by the way), now is the time to give into some savagery, heathenry, and things that are no good for you but that you like anyway. Everyone go get a beer. I’ll wait.

On that note, it seems a good a time as any to discuss “Dark Path,” the first full-length from Virginia’s Earthling and yet another rock-solid entry from Forcefield Records, who have kept us plenty busy this year. This four-headed pack of thrashy, death-minded, black metal-swallowing crushers have a good thing going here, and you know shit’s about to hit the fan almost instantly when, just as opener “Dark Path” erupts, guitarist/vocalist Alan Fary howls, “We’re on a dark fucking path.” That’s your introduction to the group, basically, and it all goes to the wolves from there, with riffy madness, savage crushing, and ill intentions designed to get you maimed. We’ve had a lot of heady material on this site lately, so it’s nice to have a record where you can put it on, open your favorite bottle of brew, and forget about all the shit around for you for 32 minutes.

As I’m sure you can ascertain from what we’ve said so far, there is a refreshing lack of elegance from this band. They’re not here to make pretty noises, develop mind-melting soundscapes, or become the next great thinkers in metal. That’s not to insinuate they’re not capable of those things, but they seem like they’d rather shred faces than wax philosophical. They remind me a bit of the earliest crop of thrash bands who wanted to be loud and heavy, play devastating riffs, and punch you in the head. That’s the type of heavier metal I fell in love with growing up, and I get a sense of that same thing with Earthling. It’s one of the initial reasons their music appealed to me.

As far as the band goes, we’ve already mentioned Fary, whose low-level growls and shrieks carry the way vocally. At time he gets a little bit lost in the fray, and he’s not the most dynamic singer in metal, but he also comes off as someone who would sound better in a live setting. Or it could just be the rawness of their sound. Nonetheless, he gets the job done. Joining him are guitarist Praveen Chhetri, bassist Jordan Brunk, and drummer Brently Hilliard, all men with gentlemanly, proper names who throw all that out the window once they plug in and get their buzzsaw moving toward you. They’re a rather formidable unit that, as noted, employ a lot of thrash, death, and black metal but also toss in some blues licks and Southern rock fury into their madness. It’s a good time.

We’ve already mentioned the title cut, but there’s more to it than Fary’s monstrous declaration at the start. The song heads down a raw, chugging black metal path, the vocals are growl-filled, and later in the track some cold atmospherics rise up. “Resent” blasts off immediately, with strong leads guitar lines, gruff vocals, and some thrashy goodness. “Losing Sight” is where the record begins to change a bit musically, and it reveals a band that could go the route of, say, Inter Arma, and add some ingenuity to its chaos. “Losing Sight” starts viciously and aggressively, but eventually it melts into a Rush-like progressive jam section, some Southern rock thunder opens up, and even the cowbell gets tapped as the cut draws to a close.

“Solider of the Fortunate” has its doom-filled moments and strong guitar work, and as it moves on its way, it revisits thrash and speed. “Wilderness Throne” is another ambitious entry, as it starts with its head nodded directly toward classic black metal, but then we’re suddenly going down Southern rock roads. Then everything changes again, and the band pulls out its early ’80s-style power metal chops and makes the track one that could inspire you to pick up a sword and dream about dark castles. “Pass Into the Beyond,” your closer, is practically at-the-altar Iron Maiden worship, with its dual guitar interplay, some riveting basslines that roll over like Steve Harris was channeled, and even some death and thrash folded into this exhilarating crusher. It’s really awesome how this record builds in intensity and emotion as the songs get knocked off one by one, and by the time it’s over, the band practically has grown before your eyes. And ears.

Earthling show a ton of promise, and there’s no telling which way they’ll go in the future because they show so many influences here. Any path—thrash, death, black metal, another angle?—would suffice, and it’s cool how they mix in some different styles of rock and roll into the music to keep things interesting. This is a band worth paying attention to right now, because they’re already a damaging crew and it can only get better from here. “Dark Path” is a strong debut from a band you’re bound to hear a hell of a lot more about in the future.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.forcefieldrecords.org/store/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.forcefieldrecords.org/site/

Obituaries never are a fun thing to write, and I don’t really think I need to explain why that is. You dread them, and when it’s time to actually put one together, it can be an arduous process of deciding what you want to say, how you want to say it, and making sure you include every detail you would want a person to know about your subject.

Sadly, we get to do this today, but it’s not really what you think. No one has passed away. Instead, the all-time great doom metal warriors Cathedral have closed their drapes for good, which I’m sure a lot of you know, and we’re finally getting to talk about their final will and testament, “The Last Spire.” Lee Dorrian, longtime frontman and leader of the band, announced before recording even started that this would be the last record of the band’s mighty, heavily influential run. He had done and seen enough as Cathedral, and the band’s mission had been met. What more was there to do? It’s also kind of fitting that the band rose around the same time that Margaret Thatcher’s reign in England was being stretched thin and now Cathedral are dying along with her. Certainly that wasn’t planned, but it sure is an interesting anecdote. And my guess is people will remember Cathedral a lot more fondly.

It is a little unfortunate that Cathedral are ceasing their existence now, when doom metal is at an apex, as for the longest time they were one of the few bands faithfully pushing forward this sound, forged from a love of St. Vitus, Black Sabbath, Pentagram, and Pittsburgh’s own Dream Death. Their debut “Forest of Equilibrium” is an all-time classic, and from there, they’ve gone on to record nine more records that were mostly high quality (I couldn’t really get with 2010’s “The Guessing Game,” for one reason or another) and formed a sort of anthology study aid for newer bands who want to know what true doom is about and how to approach it. You can’t do better than Cathedral as a teacher and dark spiritual guide.

For this eight-track, nearly hour-long final chapter, Dorrian has a familiar cast alongside him, including guitarist Garry “Gaz” Jennings, drummer Brian Dixon, bassist Scott Carlson, also of Repulsion fame who played with the band around the time of touring for “The Ethereal Mirror,” and keyboard/Moog/mellotron player David Moore, who certainly sets a brooding atmosphere. They also bring in some notable, fitting guests such as Rosalie Cunningham, whose band Purson is one of the new budding stars of Dorrian’s Rise Above label, and Autopsy’s Chris Reifert, who lends his scary voice to “Cathedral of the Damned.”

The record opens with the eerie instrumental “Entrance to Hell,” where the plague-era cries of “Bring out your dead!” are repeated (or it’s a tip to “Monty Python”), as birds caw, and funeral bells ring. That leads right into the 11-minute “Pallbearer,” a song that shapes and shifts over its lengthy running time, sometimes driving slowly and violently, other times speeding up as if wanting to run full speed off a cliff. Dorrian’s howls of, “War, famine, drought, disease,” ties in the theme of death and demise, and later when he confidently howls, “Gravediggers of the world, unite!” you know he’s not cowering from the end. He’s reveling in it. “Cathedral of the Damned” is like a buzzsaw, with Celtic Frost-like sludgery, Sabbath-influenced guitar work, and slurry, heavy emotion hanging over the song. Of course, there’s Reifert at the tail end delivering his raspy, growly piece, and he’s just right at home on this one. “Tower of Silence” picks up where “Damned” leaves off, continuing to bore its claws into the ground and your psyche, with dizzying riffs, a driving tempo, and Dorrian declaring, “The sun no longer shines.”

The second half of the record kicks off with “Infestation of Grey Death” and its weird, strange keyboard-laced opening, acoustics, and odd passages. Honestly, this is the one song that I can’t totally get with. The vocals and the music feel like they’re trying to do two different things, and as many times as I’ve tried, I just can’t really get along with this one. “An Observation” changes that, however, and the 10:18-long epic starts slowly and eerily, dumping in thick strings and slow, creepy synth that sounds like it’s pulled from a gory B-grade sci-fi film, and the song goes toward psychedelics and prog metal. Before it’s over, it morphs into a thrashy, crunchy masher. “The Last Laugh” is a really bizarre interlude filled with deranged chuckling and Pink Floyd-style strangeness, and that leads us into “This Body, Thy Tomb,” the final Cathedral song ever. “I exist in this coffin,” Dorrian calls, almost like he’s commenting on the legacy of the band, and the song does its best to drop the lid on Cathedral, with Armageddon horns, a slow-driving, menacing pace, weird boiling noises that erupt toward the end of the song, and a spirited, charged-up psychedelic jam that brings the record, and this band’s run, to an end.

Doom fans owe a debt of gratitude to Cathedral for the great work they’ve done over more than two decades, and all of the group’s many disciples should genuflect in front of them for paving the way to their destinies. All great bands deserve to go out on top, absolutely on fire, but few ever do. Cathedral realized the time was right to call it an end, and they delivered one of their finest records of their history. All hail Cathedral. Doom metal wouldn’t be—and won’t be—the same without you.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://www.indiemerchstore.com/item/18771/

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

And here: http://www.metalblade.com/us/

If there was a physical Meat Mead Metal office, our “bands changing with time” file would be incredibly bloated and probably in need of a new folder. Or something. Wasn’t it just Friday that we were talking about this very subject and the cavalcade of reasons why this happens? OK, then no point rehashing all of that, right?

Let’s just dive right into Louisville-based Coliseum, a band that’s been awfully busy the past decade putting out four albums, recording for three different labels, and continually updating and morphing their sound to what it is today on “Sister Faith,” their follow-up to 2010’s excellent “House With a Curse.” Even that record was a pretty far cry from their Relapse effort “No Salvation” and their self-titled 2004 debut, where the band was much more into hardcore and fury, though it didn’t indicate a band that was losing its passion or rage. Not even a little bit. “Sister Faith” takes what they started on “Curse” and goes even further down the rock and roll path, streamlining their sound even more, but not for any dishonorable reason. This just sounds like a natural progression, very similar to what Baroness have been up to of late. Not so shockingly, those bands are touring together this spring.

You still can hear plenty of punk rock influence in Coliseum’s sound, and they still do a nice job putting together tasty riffs that stick in your head long after the music has stopped. There also happen to be really good hooks on these songs, and the entire package is ridiculously catchy, making these songs perfect fodder for rock radio, if the playlist hadn’t been predetermined months ago. This could be a real breakout effort for the band, one that could get major label reps’ ears perked up (if they aren’t already) but definitely does not abandon Coliseum’s audience. You’re all just going to have to find more room on the bandwagon is all.

Guitarist Ryan Patterson remains your gruff, emotional voice behind the band’s music, and he even shows some different approaches to his work on this record, while drummer Carter Wilson and new bassist Kayham Vaziri round out the lineup. In addition, Coliseum are joined by special gusts Wata from Boris, Chris Colohan (Burning Love, Cursed), Elizabeth Elmore (Sarge, The Reputation) and a bunch more, making this a collaborative display where like-minded artists get to color in some corners in ways maybe the main trio would not think of doing. Having so many extra hands often muddles the experience, but not here. The guests pop in and make their own contribution to the greater whole, while Coliseum remain the steady voices of what is, arguably, their best record.

“Disappear From Sight” is your opening salvo, as the guys blast out with an uptempo, slight gazey anthem complete with barked vocals and to-the-point intent. Short, sweet, and on our way into the heart of this record. “Last/Lost” is an early killer, with Patterson sounding at his miserable best, especially when he howls, “All I see … failure!” Though those negative outlooks also sound kind of uplifting and motivating. “Doing Time” flat out kicks ass, with a punk-fueled rage and Patterson snarling, “Ain’t a prison, but we’re doing time.” Great song that sticks to your ribs. “Love Under Will” is a change of pace, with the vocals lower and breathier, and the music hitting a post-punk groove, while dark, bristling “Under the Blood of the Moon” is in the same vein. Sticking with the plasma theme, “Used Blood” is brooding and punishing, with a thick bassline and dark riffs.

“Late Night Trains” is a weird give and take as the music is noisy, but not overwhelming, yet the vocals are pulled back a bit. The chorus is a killer, though, and it’s the highlight of the track. “Everything in Glass” is rough and loud, one of the heavier songs on the collection, but it also has some of the hookiest moments where the band seems to be heading toward pop-sludge. It’s pretty neat. “Black Magic Punks” is a blast, almost as if the band channeled modern-day Darkthrone conceptually, and it’s a great rock and roll song. “Save Everything” and “Bad Will” both are cool little punk rock nuggets situated toward the back end of the album, and both are formidable. The title cut is grungy and has some soulful slide guitar, making me wonder why it isn’t closer to the front of the record. But, why not even things out, I guess. Closer “Fuzzbang” will obliterate you with buzzy, fun guitar work similar to Torche, catchy riffs, and sing-along verses and choruses that end this record on a major high.

Anyone who dismisses Coliseum because they aren’t churning out molten metal anymore is missing the point. These guys are a hell of a band, and they’re really coming into their own as songwriters. These 13 songs are as strong and consistent a collection as this band has released to date, and it’s one of those albums that gets stuck under your skin and stays there. Major hails to Coliseum, a band that keeps getting better as they go forward.

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

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

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

There are a lot of bands that change up their sound, and there are just as many reasons why they do it. Some bands get older and their tastes change, so that’s reflected in their music. Others do it because they want to be more accessible and sell as many records as possible, an approach that might not be the most exciting choice but makes sense from a dollars-and-cents standpoint.

Then there are bands like Irish trio Altar of Plagues, who simply grow more warped and ambitious, as they organically begin to grow into something different. Their first two records “Mammal” and “White Tomb” were sprawling, atmospheric doses of epic black metal, ambiance, and thought-provoking passages. They were often eerie and unsettling, but they were perfect if you simply wanted to stretch your mind and take in a psychological thriller disguised as an album. That pretty much changes entirely on their new record “Teethed Glory and Injury,” an album you’ll pretty much assume is different from the decidedly not-metal cover art of a dancer arched backward, her head practically touching her feet. But that black and white photo on the cover also should draw you into the record. How could you not be curious as to its contents?

Altar of Plagues have managed to make one of the strangest, most jarring extreme metal records of 2013 on their third release. It will turn your brain inside out listening to this thing, and you might not even realize it’s them if you don’t look at their name on the spine of the CD. There are more electronic elements involved this time (James Kelly certainly lets elements of his WIFE project bleed over, but not take over), the ambient haze arrives on an entirely different set of winds and weather patterns, and they show a sense of psychological menace that makes these songs the darkest of their run. It’s really hard to even describe the feeling you get from this record. I kept thinking the songs felt like one’s reaction after doing something heinous, as the perpetrator paces a dark basement or an attic trying to figure out what to do next. To escape? To snuff out one’s own flame? To do it again? There is so much here that’ll make you feel twisted and nasty inside.

Kelly leads the band, as he is your vocalist, guitarist, and keyboard player, while Dave Condon contributes bass and vocals, and Johnny King is behind the monstrous drums. The band also has chopped down their work, and instead of giving us four storybook-length songs like they did on their first two, these are nine cuts that are shorter, more urgent, more violent. But despite the band foregoing the epic route, they never cut themselves off, never cut the horror story short, and they become a completely different band under these circumstances. It’s one of the most breath-taking yet terrifying evolutions a band has ever had.

The record opens with “Mills,” a gloomy, gazey instrumental that builds over its four-plus minutes into a cascade of beats and a fevered pitch before launching right into “God Alone,” one of the most unforgettable metal songs of the year. Actually, delete metal from that sentence and it still stands. The riffs are stunted at first and churn over and over again while Kelly shrieks and wails, and as the song progresses, more and more layers come into play, making the song more complex and more terrifying. By the end, all of those levels are there to pulverize you and drag you under water with them. “A Body Shrouded” begins with a chilling sentiment, like the song could be an interlude, but then things open up, Kelly screams maniacally, and the atmosphere could suffocate you. “Burnt Year” is another scorcher, starting with WOLD-like beats and noise before the band takes devastating dives toward the ground, lurching over and over again, thrashing and bashing, adding a new entry to the definition of heavy.

“A Remedy and a Fever” trickles out of “Burnt Year,” with strange noises, Kelly howling over the madness, and weird guitar loops slipping in and making the room spin. Of course, the knives then are pounded into your chest, the crushing returns, and whirry, nightmarish ambiance takes the song to its conclusion. “Twelve Was Ruin” has more of a post-metal feel, with an exploratory guitar line snaking in and out of the song, and as the song builds, so do the layers of sound, guitar wails, and screaming. “Scald Scar of Water” has an off-kilter, black metal-style guitar line that takes the band back to sounding evil and violent, and eventually doom horns rise from the ashes, gangly riffs roll in, and sheets of clean vocals fall, making it feel like a dream state. “Found, Oval and Final” sounds a bit like a reprise of “God Alone,” with a similar style of guitar work and gurgling growls, and the record ends with “Reflection Pulse Remains,” that relies heavily on atmosphere. There is weird, cosmic blipping, tribal drums, unsettling emotions, and a colorful, wrenching finish that sounds like the band is letting their collective heart bleed out onto the floor until nothing else remains. It’s a total head rush.

This is an astonishing change of pace for Altar of Plagues, already one of the world’s finest metal bands, and it’s up to you if this sudden left turn works. It’s not like they went all Baroness and streamlined their sound. This band remains menacing, scarred, and dangerous, and it’s also clear they are one of metal’s most inventive, restless bands, never satisfied to stay in one place. “Teethed Glory and Injury” is a record that is bound to start conversations, turn people’s heads, and terrify the weak–minded. It also could be just the beginning of a stunning metamorphosis that is just in its infancy. That’s both chilling and eternally exciting, and I can’t wait to see their history unfold.

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

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

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