As noted, Nick Southall of sickmouthy.com is doing this neat Internet experiment where he’s asking people to keep an online diary of everything they listen to from May 7-13, and document it somewhere online. Here’s today’s.

* Rainbow — Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow

* Mutilation Rites — Empyrean

* Sleep — Dopesmoker

* True Widow  — As High as the Highest Heavens …

* Mantas — Death By Metal

Getting a new album from a band I really like is pretty great. But getting a new record from TWO bands I really like is even better. No shit, right? Who wouldn’t like that? OK, obvious intro, but that’s true when it comes to what I write about today.

Last year, two bands that really got me excited were Alaric and Atriarch, groups that walk the edges around heavy metal but come more from the deathrock and doom persuasion. Alaric’s debut album came out on 20 Buck Spin and was something that ignited my love for really early albums by The Cure, Swans, and Amebix, while Atriarch delivered their astonishing first record “Forever the End” on Seventh Rule and came from a burlier, blacker area but also had some gothic and New Wave dashes. In fact, the band has a new full-length due later this year on Profound Lore, and I’m pretty excited to hear what they unearth.

But in between both of those bands’ initial offerings and their sophomore platters comes a new split record featuring each getting one side to do their thing and whet our appetites. Alaric kick off the album with three really strong, darkly melodic tracks, while Atriarch lays down two hammers, including one of the angriest songs I’ve heard this still-young year. It’s an appetizer (or dessert, I guess, since both bands’ debuts remain pretty fresh), but it’s a damn tasty one that is worth repeated indulgences.

Alaric, who hail from Oakland, Calif., are made up of dudes who have been in other notable bands such as Noothgrush, Enemies, Dead & Gone, and Cross-Stitched Eyes , and their new band sounds like one that could have been a pioneer for the 1980s alternative rock movement had their music been born in that era. At the same time, had they been sandwiched between Celtic Frost and Type O Negative videos on the old Headbangers Ball, and they really would not have seemed in foreign territory. In case you missed it, here’s what we thought of their first record: https://meatmeadmetal.wordpress.com/2011/10/11/alaric-and-alarum-their-names-sound-confusingly-alike-but-their-music-doesnt/

On this split, they open up with “Memory Assault,” a dreary, depressing dirge that’s full-blown watery deathrock, raw vocals from frontman Shane Baker (he’s both maniacal and totally easy to understand when he emotes his misery), and unmistakable anger. “So Far Down” is equally drab and gloomy on the surface, but there’s an undeniable catchiness to it as well, and once you get used to the song, you might find yourself singing along to it. This track is the best example of the band’s pop sensibility – not in the popcorn mainstream sense, clearly – and provides a glimpse into why Alaric are so, well, alluring. Their final track “Weep” is aptly named. It’s sad, depressing, anguished, somber, but also defiant, especially when Baker notes, “Something’s been stolen away.” You get the sense they’ve understood and addressed the darkness, but they’re not giving into the temptation to give up. It’s a really effective ending to Alaric’s portion of the split.

Atriarch’s selections are my favorite on here, and that’s no slight at all to Alaric. Their frontman Lenny Smith (also of criminally under-appreciated doom metal band Trees) is a true maniacal presence, but even when he’s foaming at the mouth and prepared to strike, he’s always in control and knows his game plan. He’s never rattling off diatribes just to do so, and every line he delivers has a purpose and a meaning. The rest of the band provides the proper deathrock-fueled, doom-addled charge, as they can be both brutally aggressive and atmospherically thoughtful in their compositions. Atriarch definitely make the most of their two songs on here, and they have me heavily anticipating their next full-length. Here’s what we thought of their debut: https://meatmeadmetal.wordpress.com/2011/08/23/atriarchs-doom-demands-societal-scrutiny/

“Oblivion” is the band’s first cut on here, and is it ever angry and pointed. It’s one of the most furious assaults on the effects and destructive tendencies of organized religion, and Smith’s delivery (that reminds me of a super pissed-off Chuck Mosely) just hammers this thing home. He speak-sings over the verses, noting how “we are controlled by our fears” and that we’re “still living in slavery,” but his best line comes later in the song when he notes, “If you believe that your instincts are sins, the lie tells itself again and again.” That lyric should be plastered on billboards across the state of North Carolina this week. The chorus is a rush of fury when Smith howls, “The soul inside of you dies and falls to oblivion.” It’s almost like a companion cut to Alaric’s “Your God” from their debut, and it cuts to the bone. “Offerings” is a longer, more contemplative cut both musically and philosophically, but just because there’s more air let into the room doesn’t mean their anger has subsides, especially when Smith accuses, “We are rejected with open arms.” Not exactly the feel-good anthems of the summer.

If you’re not familiar with either band yet, this split is a great introduction piece to let you know what they offer. If you, like me, already are a fan of these groups, it’s a killer stop gap before they strike again with new long players. Either way, prepare for a dark journey that will challenge your spirit, break your soul, and reduce you to a pile of flesh and rubble. Think I’m being over the top? Try it on and see.

For more on Alaric, go here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Alaric/201671150715

For more on Atriarch, go here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/ATRIARCH/241062512127

To buy the album, go here: http://www.20buckspin.com/site/releases/spin046-alaric-atriarch-split-lp/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.20buckspin.com/site/

As noted, Nick Southall of sickmouthy.com is doing this neat Internet experiment where he’s asking people to keep an online diary of everything they listen to from May 7-13, and document it somewhere online. Here’s today’s.

* Mares of Thrace — The Pilgrimage

* Mutilation Rites — I Am Legion

* Mutilation Rites — Empyrean

* Beach House — Bloom

* Scorpions — In Trance

So, there’s this misnomer that stoners are lazy and don’t tend to get a whole lot done besides smoking up. They lie around all day and contribute nothing to society and eat snacks and waste space. We’ve all heard those ones before, right?

Oddly, the people I know who partake in such mind-altering activities all have good jobs, work ridiculous hours, make really decent money, and are creative contributors to society, their workplaces, and the economy. So that “stoners are lazy” thing? Maybe some people are just inherently lazy and still would be if they smoked weed or they didn’t. And who doesn’t eat snacks? What are we, Amish? I don’t know what that means.

Another example of folks who certainly are influenced by weed but who happen to find their creative path quite flooded with projects are the dudes who make up English stoner doom rock band Bong. Check their discography. The group officially formed in 2005, and here we are, seven years later, and they have countless recordings to their credit, from split releases to live documents to EPs to box sets to full-length efforts. Sound like the track record of a bunch of lazy people with no drive? Not exactly. So let’s perhaps do away with such a silly stereotype that obviously only applies to people with no ambition.

At hand is the fourth long-player from Bong called “Mana-Yood-Sushai,” in stores next week courtesy of English label Ritual Productions, who also put out their 2011 album “Beyond Ancient Space.” If you guessed that this two-track, 46-minute offering would perfectly soundtrack an evening spent in a smoke cloud, you’d be right on the money. But this isn’t just noodling and playing in circles to keep you in a trance. It’s a well-crafted, mystical opus that’s expertly played and sets the proper mood for whatever you plan to do while listening. I actually got a ton of projects done — with a clear head, might I add — at work this week by spending time with this album because it opens my mind and lets me concentrate. I can’t do that with just any piece of music because I’m easily distracted, but I was able to work alongside Bong’s music … even if that wasn’t the intention of their work.

This is the first record Bong — Dave Terry (bass, vocals), Mike Smith (drums), Mike Vest (guitar, effects), Ben Freeth (sitar, shahi baaja) — recorded in a proper studio with an engineer (Greg Chandler of the mighty Esoteric), and they pumped this thing out in two days this past December. Certainly sounds like the guys were driven by determination and inspiration, and you certainly can hear that in this album, which is bound to turn more heads and open more ears. It also has an Eastern spirituality to the music, as if the guys are trying to transcend to the next level. It’s enlightening in that sense, almost in the same way as Sleep’s “Dopesmoker,” discussed yesterday, as it often feels like the soul is on some sort of pilgrimage, if the listen allows himself/herself to take that trip.

“Mana-Yood-Sushai,” a title taken from the fictional god-like figure in the literary work of Lord Dunsany (Edward Plunkett, a major influence on writers such as Tolkien and Lovecraft), opens with “Dreams of Mana-Yood-Sushai,” the beginning of what the band describes as “a lucid transcendental journey.” The music opens with jangly allure and blends into a psychedelic, mystical bend that keeps you super chilled out. The drone comes into the picture, guitars ring out onto cosmic paths, and everything sails right into the second cut “Trees, Grass, and Stones.” Here, the doom clouds get thicker, the penetrating sitar work sets up shop, and Terry’s Jim Morrison-esque call outs begin. His words resemble something of an incantation, and while he helps you soak up the mood with his words, the rest of the band sets into a mesmerizing loop of repetition — by design — that should relax your mind and body and allow you, too, to float into other universes. It’s great meditation music, so as noted, you don’t necessarily have to roll a joint to get there.

Bong sit closer to the outer edges of metal, but certainly fans of bands such as Sunn 0))), Earth, Across Tundras, Sleep, Om, Horseback, and older Asva could get on board with what the guys accomplish on “Mana-Yood-Sushai.” Plus, it helps to get away from all the decibels and horrors that we metal fans jam in our ears each day. It’s cleansing for the soul to escape and take a trip somewhere non-violent and otherworldly, and Bong do a magnificent job taking you by the hand and letting your eyes see things they perhaps never considered before.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.facebook.com/pages/BONG-DOOM/173658429382728

To buy the album, go here: http://www.ritualproductions.net/rite016/

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

Nick Southall of sickmouthy.com is doing this neat Internet experiment where he’s asking people to keep an online diary of everything they listen to from May 7-13, and document it somewhere online. I started mine on Monday and will continue through the week.

* Thou — Tyrant

* Steely Dan — Pretzel Logic

* Alaric/Atriarch — split

* Aldebaran — Embracing the Lightless Depths

* Agalloch — Marrow of the Spirit

* Rush — Caress of Steel

What am I really supposed to say about a classic? A timeless gem that’s only grown brighter through the years? A genre-shaping piece of work that’s only grown more cosmic through time?

I’m just some guy in Pittsburgh, and here in front of me is “Dopesmoker,” the legendary ode to weed created by Sleep, a band that etched its name in history and broke off into several other titans of metal such as High on Fire, Om, and Shrinebuilder. How do I do this thing homage? Who needs a review of such an untouchable piece of work, such an influential recording that’s gone on to shape people’s lives, tastes, and musical careers? What can I really add to that conversation? No matter, I’ll give it a shot, and it would be silly of me not to acknowledge the reissue of this document, in stores today thanks to Southern Lord.

No matter how much bassist/vocalist Al Cisneros, guitarist Matt Pike, and drummer Chris Hakius (he was replaced in 2010 by Jason Roeder) accomplished in their bands since Sleep temporarily closed its eyes as a unit in 1999, everything went back to their stoner doom roots in the 1990s. Yeah, this band appealed to those who liked to go up in smoke and let their minds and spirits wander along with Sleep’s music. I never was in that camp. Unlike the name of this great effort, I never was a dope smoker, still am not one, and yet I still could get what these guys were reaching acting as a spectator. At least I think I can. I do indulge in strong beers and spirits, and I’ve found taking on this record, this 63-minute-long song works pretty damn well under those circumstances as well. Maybe it’s not what the guys intended, but it’s about the best I can do.

For those who don’t know about the band or this album, or for those who have, you know, forgotten … for some reason … here’s a little history. After Earache put out the band’s killer 1993 opus “Sleep’s Holy Mountain,” Sleep’s profile started to rise. That album, by the way, was intended as a demo recording, but Earache thought so much of it, the label released it as is. Can’t say I blame them, as it, too, is a classic. From there, London Records signed the band but were not ready for what was delivered to them: a 63-minute epic that served as an ode to weed. They didn’t know how to handle such a bulky package and didn’t know how to present it to a public that was used to smaller, more radio-friendly chunks. Therefore, the band edited down their masterpiece into a 52-minute song, and it still got the thumbs down. Not long afterward, the band dissolved.

The album, renamed “Jerusalem” and broken into six identically named tracks, eventually was released in a few different forms, none of which were authorized by the band. In 2003, Tee Pee finally put out the entire 63-minute piece called “Dopesmoker,” its proper title and finally with the band’s approval. But that wasn’t the end of the story. In 2011, Cisneros contacted Southern Lord about doing a deluxe version of the album with an enhanced production (remastered by Brad Boatright) and new artwork by Arik Roper, and quite obviously the label was thrilled. Now we have in our hands “Dopesmoker,” a pristine new version authorized by the band that both gives longtime fans an excellent copy of their finest work and also introduces new fans to this adventure in a proper, fitting manner.

As mentioned, it’s tough for me to summarize or do justice to “Dopesmoker.” On the simplest level for those perhaps new to doom and drone, this is an essential recording. It’s the be-all, end-all of the genres. From the suffocating drone that opens the record, reminiscent of Sunn 0)))’s mighty drapery, to the astonishing bluesy licks and psychedelic soloing conjured by Pike, to Cisneros’ calculating chanting and growling, — his recitation of, “Proceeds the weedian, Nazareth,” is one of the most memorable passages of this pilgrimage –everything works like magic. The story and the craft work created by the trio sound and feel spiritual, and it’s easy, even with a clear head, to understand their devotion and adoration for what’s guiding their vessel. It goes without saying that it isn’t a record you can listen to in pieces in order to comprehend and digest. You need to set aside some time, and sure, if you want to enhance your mood to do so, you might get even more out of “Dopesmoker.” As noted, I’ve gotten on with it while drunk, and that helps me transcend as well. But do spend time with it and let the record spread its message. You owe it to yourself as a metal fan.

Oh, a special goodie tacked onto the album is a 1994 live version of “Holy Mountain,” recorded in San Francisco. It’s super raw (at one point you can hear one of the guys ask for more guitar in the monitors), but it also envelops you like you’re standing on the floor in front of them, experiencing them in person. It’s a really cool treat.

Maybe I didn’t add anything terribly substantial to the “Dopesmoker” conversation, but I look at this as more of a tribute to one of the great doom/drone albums of all time. I’ve enjoyed it and immersed myself in it from the time it was called “Jerusalem” all the way up to this stunning new version. It’s a must-have, must-know record, and no one is saying you have to dirty your piss in order to realize its magnificence.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.weedian.com/index.html

To buy “Dopesmoker,” go here: http://www.southernlord.com/sleep.php

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

NOTE: If you DO enjoy Sleep’s music while your mind’s altered, make sure you stop back tomorrow. We’ve got something else that’ll get you there too from a band you might not know too well yet.

So Nick Southall of sickmouthy.com is doing this neat Internet experiment where he’s asking people to keep an online diary of everything they listen to from May 7-13, and document it somewhere online. I did so yesterday on my Facebook page, but I figured a mini entry here each day would suffice, too. I’ll link up Nick’s site below. He asks that if you participate, to paste your link into the comments section of his entry.

Make sure you come back at 1 p.m. EST for today’s normal discussion. Don’t sleep on it. Horrible hint, right?

Here’s what I listened to May 7, 2012.

* Sleep — Dopesmoker (twice)

* Aldebaran — Buried Beneath Aeons

* Aldebaran — Embracing the Lightless Depths

* Bong — Mana Yood Sushai

* Struck By Lightning — True Predatio

I’ll post today’s stuff tonight. If you want to check out Nick’s site, go here: http://sickmouthy.com/music-diary-2012/

Long have we kept open minds here at Meat Mead Metal, and there have been numerous instances where we brought you something that didn’t exactly scream “metal!” on the surface but certainly could connect with members of our readership who also have wide-open intellectual borders. Today, we have another.

I got an e-mail about Pinkish Black from Handmade Birds’ R. Loren several weeks back, and to say the sentiment behind the message was unbridled enthusiasm would be a bit of an understatement. So, knowing what I know about the type of music the label releases, I dug in right away and was blown off my ass by what I heard. I have developed an affinity for early New Wave music courtesy of my wife, and I’ve always had a soft spot for deathrock and dreary doom rock that go perfectly with an overcast rainy day. Pinkish Black have all of that, but they contain something else: a sinister underbelly. There is a mopeyness to what they do — and I mean that as a big compliment — but also a threat that dark feelings may turn bloody. They’re a ticking time bomb filled with nails.

Now, having the full record at my disposal, I was able to go even deeper into this murk, and what I found was a synthy, noisy, potentially violent document that could trouble the emotionally turbulent among us. I don’t get the sense these songs came from a particularly sunny frame of mind. Quite the opposite, actually. And what I discovered on this self-titled album is that this Denton, Texas, duo may have created this music to achieve some kind of catharsis or mental breakthrough, because it sure seems to be a lot of personal laundry on the clothesline.

Actually, their history is pretty gnarly and savage to say the least. The band started as a trio called The Great Tyrant, made up of Daron Beck (Pointy Shoe Factory), Jon Teague (Yeti), and Tommy Atkins. That all came to a screaming halt when Beck and Teague found Atkins dead by suicide in a bathroom, with the walls taking on a pinkish black appearance. That tragedy not only gave name to their musical evolution away from the Great Tyrant but pushed them down a more convulsive, destructive path. How could anyone blame them?

As noted, synth plays a large role in these songs, and that gives the compositions a cosmic darkness that sticks around as a recurring theme. Nods can be made to decidedly non-metal artists such as Suicide, the Cure, Scott Walker, Joy Division, and — this could just be me hearing something weird — the Smiths, but you also can find some of your more metallic leanings with comparisons to Khanate (the album was mastered by James Plotkin), Fantomas, and YOB. Even tossing those names out there doesn’t completely capture what these guys do, and those should be considered very loose associations. But we need some starting points, right? So there they are.

The record opens with “Bodies in Tow,” a song that’s already got some play on the Internets to some acclaim, and rightfully so as the reigning space keys and buzzing melody give off a feeling of nighttime cool and medicine head panic combined. “Everything Went Dark” opens with a do-wop sample and spills into a swirling song that’s one of the shortest on here and one of the most effective. “Passerby” has the New Wave tones and some ghostly vocals, and the bulk of the piece is dark and haunting. Then the whole record changes.

“Fall Down” is the start of the proceedings getting more sinister. There’s a threatening doom fog, pounding, and menacing intent, even as Beck’s vocals take on a soulfulness that should be soothing but is instead scary. “Tell Her I’m Dead” has its bottom drop out from the start, as harsh noise, key zaps, and wild shrieks make the song the most harrowing and metallic of the whole album. “Tastes Like Blood” may have you letting down your guard with its quiet, trickling pace, but it runs headlong into the volcanic closer “Against the Door,” where their audio sickness and UFO-like keys penetrate and spread their way to your insides, making you go cold. If you feel the urge to immediately go back and experience the whole thing again, you’re not alone. I, for one, couldn’t step away.

Pinkish Black certainly are not the heaviest band in the world from a decibel standpoint, but psychologically and emotionally, they may be untouchable. These Denton veterans obviously have seen some crazy shit and aren’t comfortable with expressing themselves in a conventional manner. Good. That makes for an exciting, compelling record that might make you run for a safe place, but will haunt you even there. Don’t say you weren’t warned.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Pinkish-Black/138248106193659

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

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

You’ve heard the saying “jack of all trades, master on none”? Well, that saying doesn’t apply to Jenks Miller, who has proved again and again no matter what he touches, it seems to turn to gold.

Have you heard his country-and-folk-fed Mount Moriah, a band in which he plays guitar and teams with the awesome Heather McEntire to deliver heart-crushing, sobering tales? The band is flat out incredible. Then there’s Horseback, the metallic hybrid project he’s headed for several years now, where he always seems to come up with something genuine and inventive. Over the course of several releases, Miller, as the primary visionary, always found ways to tread new paths and keep his perspective fresh.  That carries over to “Half Blood,” Horseback’s new full-length effort and the first initial-ruin release Miller has offered up for Relapse, who have put out versions of “The Invisible Mountain” and combo effort “The Gorgon Tongue: Impale Golden Horn + Forbidden Planet.”

Under the Horseback moniker, Miller has gone through many metamorphoses. There have been trips to black metal, doom, ambient drone, and many other sounds that have made the project’s sounds richer as it has matured. “Half Blood” has many of those elements as well, but they sound more refined and channeled through a Southern and Midwestern filter. The bio materials for the record describe a meeting of the minds between Neurosis and Neil Young, and that’s a damn fine assessment. People who dig Across Tundras and other Neurot acts also will find much value in this seven-track record, and I find it to be the most satisfying piece in the entire Horseback canon. I’ve spent a ton of time with this record while proofreading, and it keeps my mind open and aware, stimulated and charged.

The album basically works as two halves. The first segment is made up of four tracks that certainly stand on their own but work great in tandem. The second portion is a three-part section called “Hallucigenia” that pushes your mind to the limit and makes you imagine shapes and colors much in the same way long passages from bands such as Sleep and Electric Wizard can do. I found myself getting lost in this section, and when the music expired and my iPod light came back on, I was typically stunned that I was so engrossed I didn’t realize the journey was over. That worked especially well yesterday, for example, when I sat 32 floors above town and soaked in the record amid fog and a driving rain storm.

We open with “Mithras,” a psyche-washed, somewhat bluesy opener that trickles along in a calculating manner, as Miller growls over top. “Ahriman,” a name that appears drawn out of Zoroastrianism, buzzes and simmers, with an Americana glaze and some of the more direct singing on the entire effort. “Inheritance (The Changeling)” is the most surprising track here, as it opens with weird laser shots (like early M.I.A., before she made an ass of herself), crashes, watery percussion, and rising organs. Guitars eventually squeak and hiss, noise floods threateningly, but then the whole thing dissolves into calm keys and acoustics. “Arjuna,” seemingly named after a warrior in a Hindu epic who was a great archer, also has a Southern feel, dusty, creaky vocals, and eventually some raw singing that seems totally foreign to what’s going on, which, of course, means it works perfectly.

That moves us onto the “Hallucigenia” triptych, which begins with the dream-state sequence “Hermetic Gifts,” a song so tranquil and serene that when Miller’s growls kick in, it’s like having Gollum threaten you during a trance. “Spiritual Junk” is built on organs and drums, keeping to a mid-tempo pace that sets the stage for the 12-minute closing segment “The Emerald Tablet.” This track reveals the whole album’s true primordial substance, and it brings all of its parts together for an amazing crescendo. The psychedelic ooze bubbles, the tumultuous sections bring the vision into focus, and the life forces captured in this song seem like they break through an imaginary barrier and out into the world. I know that sounds a little ridiculous, but listen to it and see if you understand what I mean.

Miller is one of the most gifted and imaginative musicians in any genre, and Horseback never fails to keep me invested. “Half Blood” is a ridiculously rewarding experience and already a candidate for best-of-the-year honors.  I’m excited to have it in my music arsenal, and I don’t imagine it’s going to take a back seat to anything else anytime soon.

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

To buy “Half Blood,” go here: http://www.relapse.com/half-blood-cd.html

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

I probably sound like an annoying asshole by now since I’ve said this so many times, but for all the saturation in the metal world, it’s hard to find places, bands, and labels that consistently keep me excited. It’s a lot to ask, I admit, because I listen to a ton of stuff every week in order to make this site go, and having that much music in my ears is bound to result in fewer things sticking in my cranium. Therefore, I complain.

But as noted previously, there still remain a few labels that, when I get their promos and e-mails, I’m still excited to dig right in immediately. Profound Lore, Gilead Media, and the Flenser come to mind immediately, and anything that lands in my inbox or my physical mailbox from any of those outlets get moved to the front of the pipeline, the rest of what I have be damned. Newcomer imprint Broken Limbs Recordings quickly is moving its way up my list as an outlet for thought-provoking, exciting metal and extreme music that keeps me hungry for more.

My first experience with Broken Limbs came via the captivating new Vattnet Viskar EP, a stunning, self-titled collection of atmospheric, woodsy black metal that remains in heavy rotation weeks after hearing it for the first time. Recently, a bunch of new things from the label landed in my lap (uh, in a digital sense), and I’ve already taken time to peruse and dissect most of it. That said, I don’t want to recap all of them here because that would be a lot to do in not that much space, so we’ll tackle two of the releases. The rest will get its time in the weeks to come, believe me. I also thought it would be fun to look at two records that are very much different from each other, giving you an idea of the open-mindedness of the folks at Broken Limbs. That’s always a great sign that we’re in for some unexpected adventures in the years to come.

First up are French black metal titans Fhoi Myore, a band that’s doing a lot of good, especially when it comes to enhancing their homeland’s notoriety for producing some of the most bizarre, artistically limitless extreme metal going. The band only has been in existence for four years but in that time, they’ve managed to punch out a few demos, a full-length effort in March, and now their eight-track EP “The Northern Cold,” that Broken Limbs has brought your way. Basically, if you’re still into the second wave of Nordic black metal bands and also like music that makes you want to encounter the occasional ferocity of nature (rain pours in the background of this thing a nice chunk of the time), you’ll probably really like what you hear here.

Fhoi Myore, who appear to have plucked their name from the seven misshapen giants from “The Chronicles of Corum,” look pretty beastly themselves, from the few photos I’ve seen of the band. That matches nicely the primitive, animalistic nature of some of their songs, especially the desperate, shriek-filled vocals. There seems to be a real connection to nature and one’s essence, or at least that how it feels from listening to their music. I don’t have a lyric sheet, so I can only go on what I perceive. There also is a delicious amount of melody underneath these savage servings, from “Orage,” a gorgeously violent epic that twists and turns quite a bit but never loses its way; “Souvenirs,” a song that is fast and intricate for the most part and eventually lets a flush of air into the room at the end; “Miist,” a song that, if you remove the drape of black ugliness, has a catchy, almost approachable spine; and “Forest of Doom,” a track that seems awash in pain. There also is a cover of Ancalagon’s “The Walkyries” and an acoustic version of “Songes Funestes,” the closing cut on their self-titled long-player.

“The Northern Cold” is passionate, well-played, and nicely put together, as it is raw enough but it lets each dash of color come through without being muted by basement filth. Those still dining on the bones of black metal’s early days will find a veritable feast here.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.facebook.com/fhoimyorehttp://www.facebook.com/fhoimyore

To get the EP in digital, go here: http://brokenlimbsrecordings.bandcamp.com/album/the-northern-cold-ep

To get a limited-edition cassette version of the EP, go here: http://brokenlimbsrecordings.bigcartel.com/product/fhoi-myore-the-northern-cold-ep

All the way on the other side of the room lurks Wholy Failure, a project from Patrick A. Hasson of bands such as Black Chalice, Field of Spears, Avulse, and Auspicium. But unlike the man’s other work, what he does on “Avalon and Everything After” leans more toward ambiance, deathrock, and mopey doom. It’s noisy, often disruptive, and it might make your face jerk now and again, but stick with it. This music will reveal itself to you slowly as you revisit, and while you might not wish to look directly at the scarring, you’ll be intrigued by how such damage came to be.

There are many bands to which Wholy Failure compare. The closest would be the psychologically damaged Wreck and Reference, but there also are hints of bands as diverse as Alaric, Katatonia, Paradise Lost and Christian Death. The effort also nicely is separated into two halves that work well as a whole but also make a lot of sense digested as a Side A and Side B. The first half is a bit dreamier and even poppy in spots. No, not shit bubblegum mainstream, but more like how old New Wave could make you nod along and feel like garbage all at the same time. “Signal Loss” has Hasson sounding a bit like Nick Cave in his delivery; opener “Pissing Match” is confrontational with some guitar weirdness; and “Cold Slow Rain” is a minimalist instrumental that is fittingly named. The second half opens with an emotional, raw, guitar-and-vocals-only “Under Avalon and Embracing Judas” that is incredibly effective; “What Slow Death Awaits By the Sea?” consists of wooshing ambiance and humming drone, and it leads to our killer conclusion, a title cut that sounds like it’s on the brink of death, with Hasson kicking out the catchiest, dankest suicide mission I’ve heard in a long time. It’s also sticky as fuck. Try to stop listening to it on repeat. I couldn’t help myself.

Wholy Failure is a mesmerizing, chilling project that both is and isn’t easy to digest. Musically, it’s unstoppable and powerful, but lyrically and emotionally, it’s open and exposed to the elements, letting the aroma of death choke your nostrils and fill your chest.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Wholy-Failure/203597062995864

To get the album, go here: http://brokenlimbsrecordings.bandcamp.com/album/avalon-and-everything-after

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

For their Big Cartel site, go here: http://brokenlimbsrecordings.bigcartel.com/