I think I got pretty lucky growing up. I come from a good, loving family, and while we were raised Catholic, that never was shoved down our throats. We were allowed and encouraged to be individuals, to challenge ways of thinking, to not feel bad about standing out. Not that we didn’t butt heads now and again, and looking back, when there was conflict, it was me being a jerk, know-it-all-teen more than it was my parents not understanding my love for heavy metal and desire to grow out my hair. To this day my father, who could not be more different from me personally, still compliments me for taking my own road, even if it’s been a bumpy one. It means the world to hear that.

But, as noted, I was a lucky one. Not everyone I knew benefitted from the same family setting. One friend in particular took his own life on a bus ride to school one morning, an event that changed my life and my way of thinking forever. I remember the days that followed, the police trying to link his death to Satanism because he had weird symbols in his notebook he’d copied from Iron Maiden album covers, lyrics from other heavy metal albums he etched elsewhere, and strange notes about the band he claimed he was in that all looked goofily evil. He was a good, normal kid with a huge imagination, and he and I got on about heavy metal non-stop. While we weren’t best pals, he was a part of my group and I missed him. I was 15 at the time, and I never once thought about what led him to make this horrible decision because it scared me. I know it wasn’t heavy metal. I don’t care what the police and school authorities believed. That was naïve, pin-it-on-something-we-don’t-understand conclusion-drawing. What if they had seen my notebook? Would they have committed me? My guess is no. I was still alive.

This all leads to the new album from Panopticon, a stunning, four-track opus called “Social Disservices.” It gets its name from Austin Lundr (Seidr, Agnosis) and his examination of the mental and social services in this country, or as he puts it, disservices. He feels for kids who are misunderstood by their families, their educators, their clergy, what have you, who don’t recognize their individuality. Not all kids are bound to be the football star, the prom king or queen, the great debater. Not all kids will go on to become regular church-goers or great scholars. Sometimes kids will prefer those weird metal bands over the safe, sanitized stuff that all the others like. Maybe they’ll want to open a tattoo shop rather than work in corporate America. That doesn’t make them outlaws or vermin. In my opinion, it means they think outside the box and don’t settle for the status quo. They’re different because they challenge what they see around them, and that’s a damn good thing to do. But sometimes these kids are wrongly accused of being delinquents, put into metal or social systems that ultimately fail them, and then what becomes of them? Sometimes they eventually end up with multiple children with different mothers and no means to support everyone. That’s another story of a friend with whom I grew up, and it makes me sad. Lundr is trying to give these kids a voice. Just listen to him wail, “Never give in, never give up!” on “Subject.” You can’t mistake his compassion, his relation to these people.

So this third full-length from Panopticon is not your hate-filled, misanthropic slab of atmospheric black metal that comes down the pike from every other band. It’s a bleeding-heart call to power. It’s an emotional, heart-wrenching document, and maybe this isn’t the type of thing a metal writer should admit, but it brought tears to my eyes on a few occasions. It’s that affecting a piece of work, and while not everyone will have the same reaction I did, it’s sure to strike your heart somewhere. For even if you did grow up more fortunate than others, surely you’ve seen some people close to you suffer. Or maybe you just see the news now and again and wonder why some people get swallowed up by a system they perhaps had no business being absorbed by in the first place. If so, that makes you human.

There’s a large portion of the black metal audience that needs things to be all hate and evil all the time, and there’s no two ways about it. I never agreed with that sentiment personally because I always felt black metal should be a place with no boundaries or rules, and Lundr always has felt the same. None of his work has been outbursts of hate with no basis behind it. He’s always tried to reach out and tell stories of the downtrodden and those who perhaps don’t have a voice. He’s the voice of the voiceless. He even seemed ahead of the curve on his last record “Collapse,” where he envisioned the total collapse of government. Hmm. Seems we’re there. A car without an engine runs better.

Now, if you’re not here for the message and only care about the music, you’ll be served as well. Lundr’s all-encompassing atmospheric black metal, mixed with shoegaze, post-metal, doom and straight up rock, never has sounded more impactful. Every moment on this record drips with purpose, and each song is packed with drama and emotion. It’s fitting that the first two songs “Resident” and “Client” both open with the sound of distressed, crying babies and chattering kids, because these are the people who are the most vulnerable to fall into this pattern. “Resident” is creaky and suffocating at times, dizzying and explosive at others, with Lundr’s shrieks and growls telling the tale. “Client” is grittier, but it also folds in melodic sections that can be translated as both glorious and tortured. “Subject” begins with dissonant noise and has pain crawling in its underbelly, and there are lovely, dreamy sections of the song that seem to act as a sort of escape from reality. That doesn’t mean forgetting what’s true, but rather drifting somewhere else so one doesn’t become insane from the darkness. It ends with footsteps and a jail door sliding open, so you know exactly where the situation has led the protagonist. Closer “Patient,” the epic of the album at 20 minutes, is a beautiful piece of work, with spacious soloing, lush strings, devastated wails, and a mournful soul. You end up with a wide variety of conclusions to which you can draw. Should you feel uplifted that there’s a way out? Should you revel in pain and hopelessness that the cycle never ends? It seems like that’s up to the listener.

Panopticon always has been a project that lends itself to much soul searching. All of Lundr’s records under this banner push you to creep outside your comfort zone, or if you’re a part of the group he addresses directly, it makes you examine your path. It’s clear Lundr is pulling for the underdog here and will do whatever’s necessary to tell their story. He’s part of the 99 percent, so to speak, and he won’t rest until changes are made and people stuck in this trap have a way to realize a better life. We all deserve a chance to succeed and to make a life for ourselves, whatever that may be. Not everyone’s dream is the same, and we all should be thankful for that. But just because yours doesn’t match your neighbor’s, it doesn’t mean either of you is wrong or that one of you is “crazy.” Everyone doing and thinking the same thing is insane, and those of us who realize that are the lucky ones.

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

To buy “Social Disservices,” go here: http://store.theflenser.com/

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

Depression can be the most destructive force on earth. Yes, we live in a world of bombs, ridiculously relaxed gun laws (at least here in the States), monstrous dictators, and pathogenic disease, but those even can pale in comparison to the darkness and sorrow that can inhibit a person’s heart and soul. It’s a prison. Even the brightest, most beautiful day can seem like hell is ravaging the planet. It can be inescapable and eroding. It is the worst.

That may not be the most alluring way to introduce a new album from one of the world’s most underrated bands, but it fits. In fact, that opening probably isn’t enough. For we’re here today to discuss Australia’s Mournful Congregation, a band that, even if you’re a happy-go-lucky soul, can leave you in the doldrums for hours. They’re that effective and that impactful delivering their brand of funeral doom, a genre that should alert you from name alone that you’re not in for party music. Unless it’s a wake you’re soundtracking, then it’s perfect. This band has been one of the finest entrants in that sub-genre ever since their formation, and now that they’ve had time to develop and find a strong label home in the States, their best days should be in front of them. Not that that’ll bring sunshine and birds to their music any time soon.

Mournful Congregation’s music may be new to some of our audience, but the band has been around since 1993, delivering a few mini-releases before offering up their first full-length, 1999’s “Tears From a Grieving Heart.” I mean, just look at that album title, and you know you’re not going to feel uplifted when it’s all over. And that’s OK. Sorrow, despair and depression are very human states. Everyone is susceptible, but we live in a culture where those things get buried under synthetic, sugary fun. It’s OK to brood and feel downright miserable at times, and Mournful Congregation always have been purveyors of such gloom. We didn’t get another full-length from the band until 2005’s eye-opening “The Monad of Creation,” though they did put out more mini-releases between complete records, and they really seemed to hit their apex on 2009’s “The June Frost.” That was until their fourth and unquestionably best record “The Book of Kings” was created, putting this band on a pedestal with some of metal’s finest acts, no matter the sub-genre. This is an arresting, blood-letting, anguished masterpiece that has a fast track toward best-of honors for 2011. It really is that amazing a piece of art.

The band – vocalist/bassist/guitarist Damon Good (Ben Newsome recently joined to take over bass duties), guitarist Justin Hartwig, drummer Adrian Bickle – sounds like they’ve discovered their sound. That’s not to suggest their previous work is incomplete or not thoroughly fleshed out, because it all works wonderfully, but they hit on something on “The Book of Kings” that takes the band from great to damn-near immortal. That’s a weird description for a band so consumed with the extinguishment of life’s flames. But it’s true, and they have created the solemn wonder we hear on this album. Now, know from the start that like most bands in this sub-genre, their songs are very, very long. They are personal exorcisms and mental torture sessions, and those types of things can’t be accomplished properly in a couple minutes. You get the idea the band poured everything they had inside of them into these songs and left no personal scars unexamined. There also are times when the band sounds unlike they ever have before, revealing a new sonic personality that completes Mournful Congregation’s make-up.

The album opens with the stunning “The Catechism of Depression,” a 20-minute lurker that’s eerie, slow-moving and death-like in its destruction. It’s an amazing composition that sounds like it can’t possibly be topped by what follows. Yet it’s only just the beginning of this cathartic ride. “The Waterless Streams” actually is, funny enough, quite watery in its approach, as the song floats along with sad guitar work, and Good’s clean, monotone warbling that sounds inspired by Tom G. Warrior. His singing is quite affecting and works wonders for the song and the rest of the material on the album. Now, it’s not that Good’s never used this approach before, but never as much and as well as he does here. “The Bitter Veils of Solemnity” is a truly interesting experiment, as it relies mostly on dark, harrowing acoustic guitar work, whispery vocals and lush synth work, qualifying itself for being dubbed beautiful. The 33-minute closing title track brings it all together, using all of the elements unveiled on the previous three songs, and taking the listener on a ride to the catacombs, with some crunchy, punishing thrashing, classic doom expression, and savagely delivered vocals that match the atmosphere. It’s an incredible record, one that blew my mind from first listen, and I was expecting to be moved before I ever encountered the record. I’ve long loved and followed this band, but I had no idea they were capable of something this mountainous and cataclysmic. It’s their high-water mark. So far.

Now, if you are new to this band, or if you’re just trying to get your hands on some of the rarities, the band has another new release (it came out in September) to satisfy your urges. “The Unspoken Hymns” is a collection of some of the band’s split efforts cuts and two new songs, one being the opening “Left Unspoken,” a new version of the song that originally appeared on the “Four Burials” release with Orthodox, Loss and Otesanak. Also included are “The Epitome of Gods and Men Alike” from the Worship split, “A Slow March to the Burial” from the Stabat Mater pairing, and “Descent of the Flames” from the Stone Wings release. It’s all capped off by a new cover of Thergothon’s “Elemental,” which they do a world of justice. This collection is a nice appetizer to let you know what you’re getting into with Mournful Congregation’s music, but remember that their new work does offer a wider range of influences and sounds. If you’re a completest, like I am, you’ll need to have this thing. But not just for the sake of buying all the band’s stuff. There are some great songs here worth their weight and your hard-earned money.

It’s high time Mournful Congregation are recognized as one of metal’s finest bands, and if “The Book of Kings” doesn’t get them that designation, then something’s wrong with the system. It’s a special, once-in-a-band’s-lifetime effort that should transcend sound boundaries and affect fans of all kinds of heavy music. It’s real, it’s raw, and it’s unapologetically sorrowful in a way that’s sometimes skin-crawling. But it’s good when music can make you feel this way, and even if you don’t exactly want to take a walk in the park when it’s done, you’ll realize you’ve gotten in touch with some darkness that needed to leak out of your veins.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.facebook.com/mournfulcongregation?sk=info

To buy “The Book of Kings” go here: http://www.20buckspin.com/store/product_info.php?cPath=1&products_id=1016

To buy “The Unspoken Hymns,” go here: http://www.20buckspin.com/store/product_info.php?cPath=1&products_id=967

To buy both in a special package deal, go here: http://www.20buckspin.com/store/product_info.php?cPath=1&products_id=1017

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

I could use a trip into outer space about now. I hear I won’t be able to breathe there without some sort of apparatus. Sad. Floating uninhibited, without heavy machinery holding me down, sounds like the way to go. Science, you have failed us this time.

Luckily there’s an alternative right now, and no, I don’t mean those weird gravity machines or simulations. What fun is that, really? You’re in a box. Wheee! Instead, I mean I can have something to carry me there mentally. That’s why I often talk about music that has the ability to carry me away for a period of time, and certainly we all can agree that removing ourselves from our daily lives now and again can be a good thing.

This time, I’m rocketing into the stars with “Dead Roots Stirring,” the sophomore effort from classic doom trio Elder. But wait a second. It’s not just classic doom that Elder offer up on this great-sounding, five-track effort. There’s a healthy serving of stoner rock, blues, and classic heavy metal as well, making them a fine choice for anyone who’s way into labels such as Rise Above and Elder’s home MeteorCity, as well as bands such as Black Sabbath, Electric Wizard, Danava, Sleep and Kyuss. This is a crazy awesome guitar record, by the way, with riffs upon riffs, scorching lead lines, and exploratory noodling that never feels lazy or bloated despite the songs having lengthy running times. This is imaginative, exciting stuff, and it’s a crime if Elder doesn’t realize a higher profile once this record’s cycle is completed.

The Boston/New Bedford-based band – guitarist/vocalist Nick DiSalvo, bassist Jack Donovan, drummer Matt Couto – get right into things without hesitation on opener “Gemini,” a fuzzy, bluesy, punchy piece, with DiSalvo declaring, “I’m coming home/It’s been so long,” as the rest of the band peels off into dissonance. At one point, DiSalvo even breaks into a black metal-style guitar section that, instead of bubbling into hell, slides into a groove. The title track is a stirring, spiraling cut that never feels nearly as long as it is and is the epitome of stoner fire. There is some fiery guitar soloing that blows the doors off the thing, and eventually DiSalvo demands, “Let the waves consume my bones.” By the way, his vocals are far cleaner and spacious this time around, with very little grit and growl. It’s a refreshing change.

“III” is a nice, dusty, trippy instrumental number that doesn’t need words to make its point. It breathes easily and walks assuredly, and it leads into “The End,” the most aggressive song on the collection, but not one that’ll scare off those who think death metal is too extreme. It’s a heavy track for Elder, and it bubbles and bursts with color, eventually drowning out in a pocket of ambient noise. Closer “The Knot” is the one that’ll likely take listeners most directly back to the ’70s, as Tony Iommi and his Sabbath mates would be proud of this one. But beneath the murk and smoke is a cool, dexterous melody line that keeps popping up and pulling you willingly back into the fray. It’s one of those closing tracks that compel you to start the album all over again. Don’t resist as the temptation really is too much.

Funny thing is, while I took this record as a chance to imagine floating past stars, there’s just as much fire and brimstone that sounds inspired by the Earth’s formation and tumultuous history as well. The cosmic route is just how I absorbed this music, but one easily also could take this piece as a chance to imagine when volcanic fury built the mountains and landscapes and when long-extinct creatures roamed the planet. That’s part of the fun of a collection of this nature. It’s open-ended enough to let you have your own experience, and trust me, you will have one when taking on “Dead Roots Stirring.” This is a really powerful record from an up-and-coming band whose name deserves to be in the lexicon of doom and stoner metal fans everywhere.

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

To buy “Dead Roots Stirring,” go here: http://www.allthatisheavy.com/info.asp?item_num=ATH-8699

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

There’s both good and bad to a band feeling its way around and trying to figure out what’s best for its direction. On one hand, you can get some fascinating music that, while it’ll change completely the next album, gives a neat portrait as to where the group is at a very specific moment in time. For example, Dillinger Escape Plan have morphed into something different with each record, and every step has been a blast for me. Many others disagree with that statement. You also can get a series of disasters from a group of musicians who have no idea what they’re doing, and it can undo the group’s future.

Jersey’s East of the Wall certainly have been searching their way toward a sound, hands against the walls, pushing toward the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe they’ll be exploring forever, and maybe no set way of doing things will satisfy the band, but as long as they keep trying, I’m willing to keep coming back to hear what they’ve created. The band’s instrumental debut “Farmer’s Almanac” was an interesting, promising first salvo of a full-length, but their sophomore effort “Ressentiment,” where they worked vocals into their music, didn’t really fire on all cylinders. It’s not a bad record, really, it just wasn’t a terribly rewarding follow-up. At the time, I questioned their decision to add vocals simply because they weren’t terribly inspired and sounded average, basically not adding much to the band’s sound. Why did they need to go there? But they obviously felt they wanted vocals to be a part of East of the Wall, so it would take until they made more music to find out if they really could make them work.

That answer is here with the arrival of the band’s third full-length “The Apologist,” a 12-track album that is their second for Translation Loss. Like their last album and the one before it, things change and we get another chance to meet this band all over again. It’s a proggy, post-metal-flavored platter that digs into jazz, math rock, hardcore and sludge, and yes, they’ve stuck with vocals. But this time they work. They don’t dominate the proceedings and edge their way into a territory in which they don’t entirely belong. In fact, we don’t even get singing on all of the tracks as there are a handful of instrumental cuts that hint more toward the ideas they had when making their debut. Another plus is all of these songs blend together nicely, and the flow feels natural. I get the idea East of the Wall are getting closer to a musical awakening, and as strong as “The Apologist” is for the most part, my guess is album four might be the earth shaker.

Folks into bands such as Between the Buried and Me, Cave In, Cynic, Pelican, Botch, Rosetta and even Opeth could find enjoyment from this album. It’s exciting and surging, it mind-blowingly well-played, and it’s the most accessible work of the band’s short run. As players, they’ve never sounded better, more capable and more deadly. The quintet – guitarists/vocalists Matt Lupo, Kevin Conway, and Chris Alfano, bassist/vocalist Brett Bamberger, drummer Seth Rheam – leaps right into “Naif,” with a feedback squall and sludgy riffs that eventually are evened out by a calmer sequence and cleaner vocals, and the cut runs right into “Linear Failure,” a punchy, jazzy, blistering piece of work that lets the guys get their knuckles bloody. “False Build” is one of the most aggressive, threatening cuts on the album with shouted/shrieked vocals and soaring guitar lines; the excellent title cut runs more than seven minutes and certainly doesn’t hold back on the drama; “Whiskey Sipper” sounds more like it came from the deranged mind of a whiskey binger, as it levels you and throws all the household furniture around with no regard for what’s around. The instrumental cuts serve to relive the tension and build toward what’s next, though they’re not interludes. They do stand on their own, and the best of the bunch are “My Favorite Society Guy”; the punk-powered “Running Tab of Sweetness”; and eerie, spacey “Nurser of All Hurts.”

“The Apologist” is not a perfect album by any means, and East of the Wall certainly can tighten up some loose ends and trim some fat around the edges. Sometimes even the really good songs on here last a little too long. I like that the vocals sound better and more impassioned and that they play more of a role with everything else instead of taking main stage. It works for them, and I imagine that idea will only serve them well in the future. But I see this record as a big step toward the promised land for them and not the arrival itself. They are capable of great things, and if this is the leap that precedes that, then I’m excited. “The Apologist” is steady as it goes, and as long as East of the Wall uses it as a building block, then it will have served its purpose.

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

To buy “The Apologist,” go here: http://translationloss.com/store.htm

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

Heartless level Helter Shelter

If you live in Pittsburgh like I do, relying on your city newspapers for music coverage is a faulty idea. If that’s your only means of knowing what’s going on around town, you’d think we had no metal and hardcore scene. Some of the punk bands get very limited ink, but it’s like an old boys’ network where the same stuff gets mentioned every week, and nothing daring and dangerous is allowed above the surface.

But ignoring it doesn’t mean it goes away. There have been bands that have signed with notable indie labels (Hero Destroyed and Complete Failure with Relapse, defunct Once Nothing with Solid State) and hardly a thing was uttered about that. We’re about to test the waters of tolerance again in these parts now that the debut full-length “Hell Is Other People” from hardcore fire-breathers Heartless is about to drop (the band does have a number of preceding 7-inch efforts as well). And it’s coming out on Southern Lord, a label you just may have heard of before. OK, enough bitching about the local scribes, who are only concerned about Elvis Costello and the Kinks and the groups they influenced, and more getting to Heartless, who will bloody your brow and cave in your chest with their gargantuan sound. Oh, and the album title? Perfect. My sentiments exactly.

It’s been well noted that Southern Lord is on a hardcore kick the past couple years, releasing crushing platters from bands such as Nails, the Secret, Masakari, Trap Them, Seven Sisters of Sleep, and countless others, and Heartless fit right in with those groups aesthetically, philosophically, artistically and sonically. Say what you want about the Lord’s fixation with this sound, but they know what they’re doing, and they haven’t plucked a bad band yet. Call me partial from sharing a misunderstood hometown with the dudes, but Heartless is their best find in this genre yet and is one of the bands on their roster I’m most excited to see progress. And this is coming from someone who leans more toward the label’s Wolves in the Throne Room/Earth/Sunn 0))) contingent.

Even if I had no idea who Heartless were before taking on “Hell Is Other People,” the awesome cover art, the creation of Brian D’Agosta of Gostworks (find a link to their site below, where you can see the entire layout), immediately would have drawn me into the fury. Cover art seems to be such a low priority for so many bands and labels living in this gimme-now digital age, so when you see something that strikes your eyes and instantly piques your curiosity as to how the band sounds, it’s something of a minor miracle. The sooty, creepy cover is a window into “Hell Is Other People” that actually gives you a pretty accurate portrayal of the leveling and bloodletting that is in front of you. My guess is the band’s going to be able to drum up some pretty great merch based on the packaging design. But what do striking T-shirts matter if the music doesn’t deliver? Not to worry with Heartless.

“Hell” is a perfectly timed, precisely stuffed package at 13 tracks clocking in at a tick under 21 minutes. With such a compact assault, the only way to react is by exclaiming the name of another Steel City mangler, “Oh shit, they’re going to kill us!” “Clean Slate” opens the door to this pit of hell with feedback ringing out and a complete demolition of the mind, body and soul that ends in a bit of doomy skull-sludgery. “Resuscitate/Suffocate,” the first cut fed to an unsuspecting media and public, just blasts off, and before you know it, you’re buried up to your chest in the speedy, hardcore wailing of “Cede” and the blast-filled “Late.” “Undulations” also has a doomy makeup, but eventually that’s blown all to hell with thrashy blasts; “Deject” is a slowly driven, calculated collection of mashing guitar chugs and mangled hopes; “Cop Out” is the band’s epic at 4:08, and it’s a total monster; “Hard Feelings” is a nasty diatribe that has the entire band offering up venom via their gang shouts; and “Blinders” is a simmering pot of disgust, with frontman Cory lamenting, “The only thing broken is me.”

If you’re not down with Southern Lord’s excitement over the underground hardcore scene, I’m not sure Heartless will change your mind. But you should give them a chance, right? You can’t complain if you don’t try it on. But those who are excited by what the label’s been pumping out lately will be psyched over “Hell Is Other People.” This is a face-scorcher of an album, one that should come across even better live and will keep your hardcore fires burning. Heartless is a young, hungry den of lions who could be one of the genre’s frontrunners in a few years if they keep making madness like this record.

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

To buy “Hell Is Other People,” go here: http://www.southernlord.com/store.php

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

For more on Gostworks, go here: http://gostworks.wordpress.com/

Who out there wants to get in touch with his or her feelings? If your hand is raised, first, why are you doing that? Stop it. Second, if you do wish to connect with what’s inside your little heart, maybe back out of this story, because it won’t help you. Well, unless those emotions you harbor inside are ones of fury, hatred and misanthropy.

If that’s the case, I recommend you take on “The Obsidian Plains,” the second full-length from Minnesota blackened sludge anvil-throwers Wolvhammer. You won’t feel enlightened and enriched when this record is over. Your soul won’t bounce for joy. You won’t go out and buy chocolates for your little sweetie. You’ll be more inclined to, say, light your car on fire just for the hell of it. Let your dog shit in your annoying neighbor’s lawn because those people never seem to give a damn about your boundaries. I’d be worried if any of those Occupy folks got a hold of this smoking bastard because, if they did, we might go from peaceful protest to all-out, in-the-street brawling in no time (actually, the police seem to be doing a good enough job with that one). It’s not a record that anyone with the slightest thread of unrest will digest without incident. It’s here to incite, to prod, to aggravate, and the dudes sound like they’re having a damn good time stoking those fires.

This seven-track, 44-minute mauler, the follow-up effort to their excellent, ominously named 2009 album “Black Marketeers of World War III” (the band has a demo and EP to their credit as well) is relentless and unforgiving. It refuses to let you up for air. It won’t even let a hint of forgiveness enter your bloodstream because, who forgives and forgets these days? Who honestly could do that without feeling like a gullible rube? Not Wolvhammer, and the bile and filth smeared all over this thing will make you realize that sometimes lashing out and letting people know you’re not OK is the way to go. At least people may get the message that way, and if not, look out.

The fellows in the band – vocalist Adam Clemans, guitarist/bassist Andy Schoengrund, guitarist Jeff Wilson (ex-Nachtmystium), drummer Heath Rave (ex-Across Tundras) – just let loose and propel their anger and piss right at you, with no concern for where on your person it may land. The music is a total demolition, like a wrecking ball trying to take down a city block, whether the properties are damned or not. You might find your lungs choking on all the smoke and dust as a result, and while the tears are streaming your way down your sooty cheeks, you’ll realize you should have found a safe haven before all this madness started. But it’s too late now, and you’re in it. Maybe that’s a little over the top to you, but you won’t feel that way when taking on “The Obsidian Plains.”

“The Gleaming” provides a monstrous opening salvo, with screamy, creaky vocals, a bludgeoning guitar groove, and what sounds like a haunting synth hiss behind everything (with producer/key wizard Sanford Parker, I would expect that’s what I’m hearing), and that leads to “Writhe,” built on a roided-up Motorhead-style riff, double-kick drum thunder, and a melody line that gets your juices flowing. “Bones of the Pious” and “Shadowhorn” both have filthy punk rock directives beneath the absolute chaos, while “A Defiled Aesthetic” has a kick-ass black-n-roll pace complete with gang shouts and a righteously channeled aggression. Closer “The Sentinels” is like two songs smashed together, the first half playing as a spacious, psychologically damaged instrumental, the second portion blowing up into a hurricane of destruction that gives no warning as to its path.

No sense in breaking down the band’s nuances or their musical inspirations or any of that. This record doesn’t really call for that. Instead, it demands you get in touch with your inner barbarian, that person who wants to pillage without compassion, to even a few scores, and make people’s flesh rise up with welts. It’s a release of that inner aggression, that poison that could lead you to jail if you’re not careful, so if this serves as your release, then maybe you’ll be saved a whole lot of bail money by simply plunking down a few bucks for this hellacious album.

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

To download the band’s EP and demo, go here:  http://wolvhammer.blogspot.com/

To buy “The Obsidian Plains,” go here: http://www.profoundlorerecords.com//index.php?option=com_ezcatalog&task=detail&id=788&Itemid=99999999

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

Very often on this site I write about music that carries me places. Not physically, of course, but mentally and spiritually. I like being lifted from my intellectual plane and transported somewhere else. It’s an escape, an adventure, an exploration. Typically, music that can do that for me and to me is what speaks to me most over the long run.

Chicago-based experimentalists Locrian always have been one of those bands that guaranteed me a trip somewhere different. Through their previous three full-lengths (“The Crystal World” being a personal favorite) and their many, many other mini-releases, this group always has been one to challenge the senses. Their music can’t just be “gotten” by someone sitting with them for the first time, especially if that listener has more of a mainstream bend. No, this band must be absorbed and understood to achieve complete connection. I hope that doesn’t sound hifalutin, because I don’t mean to be all “oh, you just won’t get it” dismissive. I hate those kinds of folks. But you need to get to know Locrian, almost like you have to warm up to a new friend, but once you do, you’ll accept them forever.

Of course, even if you think you know Locrian intimately, they always keep you guessing. That’s another thing I treasure about the band – André Foisy, Terence Hanum, Steven Hess — because I never quite know what I’m going to get from the group’s music. Their latest full-length “The Clearing,” their fourth overall, is no exception, and while it’s incredibly spacious, challengingly psychedelic, and sometimes abrasive, it’s nothing like their previous work, even if you could use those same descriptions to explain Locrian’s other work. That’s because often times adjectives and modifiers often aren’t enough to totally convey a piece of work’s structure and only listening and spending time with it really can give you the full picture. That’s “The Clearing” for you.

There really isn’t a true classification for Locrian’s music, and that’s OK because we spend too much time building walls and perimeters around bands as it is. They’ve always delved in ambiance, doom, black metal, drone and plenty of other styles but never have been solely devoted to one. That’s still the case with “The Clearing,” though the record is less heavy and suffocating than some of their previous records. It’s probably their least black metal and doom album so far, not that some of those traits don’t lie beneath the surface. The band notes they tried to move beyond the more metallic influences in their music and take their journeys beyond into progressive, gazey and industrial terrain. And they do that loosely, because there aren’t many sequences here where you’ll point directly at a passage and cite that as the reference point to Yes’ “Relayer” album or Throbbing Gristle, both of which are cited on their Bandcamp page. But if you really think about it while listening, you’ll hear the connections. I hear more of Burzum’s “Aske” album, another source material that gets a nod, but not explicitly. All of these inspirations appear in a more, um, roundabout fashion.

We get started with “Chalk Point,” a song that comes together slowly on the back of ambient beams and slowly dripping piano before it meets a steady melody line and some chant-like vocals that blend into the background. “Augury in the Evaporating Tower” is the thorniest of the four-track collection, opening with a pocket of space drone that eventually catches up with manic, isolated shrieking, and a sped-up tone that threatens to run through a brick wall. But instead it calms and fizzles out in a pool of static. “Corpolite” has a Pink Floyd-like psychedelic acoustic backing and a gentle, mid-tempo pace that permits plenty of on-your-back star-gazing. The epic title track closes the collection, laying a foundation in B-movie, sci-fi clouds, a steady, pulsating spine of synthesizers, simmering hisses, and machine-style pumping. It envelops you and claims you, almost like it’s dripping a calming solution into your veins, allowing you to forget what ails you outside of your everyday tribulations so you can get some clarity before returning to reality. At least that’s how it strikes me.

Locrian don’t seem to be able to fail me, and I appreciate that greatly. Each release has something new to say, and in a world where so many bands just want to make the same statement in order for a reliable number of units moved, it’s always refreshing to discover and indulge in a band that isn’t satisfied with a norm. Who knows where Locrian will go in the future, but I’ll certainly be along for the ride.

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

And here: http://www.utechrecords.com/

And here: http://lndofdecay.blogspot.com/

To buy “The Clearing,” go here: http://fandeathrecords.com/shop/

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

No matter what you think of Dave Mustaine’s music or personality, you can’t deny that he’s a survivor. Kicked out of Metallica before the band exploded to stardom, he struggled with substance problems and a constantly rotating cast of musicians in his own band Megadeth, and despite having a deliriously successful run in the late ’80s and early ’90s, he always had to play second fiddle to his original group.

Yet here we are, late 2011, and Mustaine is still alive and kicking. His band recently played a string of dates with Metallica, Slayer and Anthrax as part of the Big 4 package, celebrating the groups cited as pioneering the thrash sound, and now Megadeth have a new record, their 13^th, awkwardly spelled “Th1rt3en.” Longtime friend, then nemesis, then friend again Dave Ellefson has returned on bass (it’s his first Megadeth studio record since 2001’s “The World Needs a Hero”), and his presence is very evident and completely welcome sonically. Guitarist Chris Broderick and drummer Shawn Drover are back and have become the new constants, other than Mustaine, of course.

The record itself is a bit of a mish-mash. It’s new material, sort of. All 13 songs are freshly cut by the current formation of the band, but a few of the tracks have longer histories and even have appeared before in alternate versions. “New World Order” has been around since 1991, when the band toured on the Clash of the Titans bill and Marty Friedman and Nick Menza were in the group. They get writing credits.  “Black Swan,” that has nothing to do with the movie of the same title, also been around for years, and a version was offered to fan club members who pre-ordered “United Abominations.”  “Millennium of the Blind” also has been around since 1991, and a version was a bonus track on the remix/remaster of “Youthanasia.” So it’s a collection of some new songs, with older odds and ends added, and you have to wonder if the re-worked tracks weren’t good enough for release before, why are they now? Or maybe the songs just didn’t fit the model of the record from the time they were created.

The album starts off just fine with “Sudden Death,” a song that simmers in the air almost as if it’s going to turn into an Immortal song before it kicks into their tried-and-true thrash path. “Public Enemy No. 1,” a song about 1920s gangster Al Capone, sounds like those classic Megadeth singles from the past two decades, where it’s just heavy enough to satisfy long-time fans and just accessible enough to get radio play. “We the People” is a really dark song, with Mustaine dropping references to the Illuminati, one-world government and currency, and a sense of the Biblical end of days. In fact, Armageddon is all over this record. The closing title track clearly is about Mustaine and the band’s artistic endeavors as a band, their trials and tribulations, and whether their time might be coming soon. Or maybe, as noted, they’re just survivors who will refuse to go away. While their life as a band continuing is not out of the question, Mustaine does drop a hint of demise when he admits, “I just don’t think I can give anymore.”

Those are all the finer points of “Th1rt3en.” Now the not so good, which, unfortunately, outweighs the highlights. There aren’t any terrible songs on this album, and Megadeth have been good for a real clunker or two per record (or sometimes just a flat-out bad album … “Risk”), but there’s a long stretch of this collection that isn’t very inspiring. Aforementioned “New World Order” and “Black Swan” are fine for what they are, but they’re way better as B sides. “Guns, Drugs and Money” isn’t nearly as menacing as its title indicates, and there’s a weird Deep Purple-like keyboard line hanging behind the thing; “Fast Lane” is about fast cars and blah blah blah, and it should feature an appearance by Vin Diesel, but it does not. “Never Dead,” a song written for inclusion in the “NeverDead” videogame, sounds like it was banged out in 15 minutes specifically to fill out a soundtrack; “Wrecker” and “Whose Life (Is It Anyway?)” both are about evil women doing bad things, and you know, you just shouldn’t trust them. They’re both kind of dull, with “Whose Life” sounding comically teen angsty. “Deadly Nightshade,” built from an old riff, isn’t bad, as it has a nice crunch and a strong bassline from Ellefson, but it won’t make any greatest hits lists.

This isn’t a bad late-career record from Megadeth, and if you’re a gigantic fan and a completest, you probably won’t regret buying the album. I don’t think it’s going to be the cause of any commercial resurrection for the band, and it’s not up to par with recent albums by tourmates Anthrax and Slayer (though it kicks the hell out of the “Lulu” thing …). It’s not terrible, not great. I prefer 2009’s “Endgame” and even 2007’s “United Abominations” over “Th1rt3en,” but that’s if I was forced to choose one of those discs. My excitement for the band started to fade with “Countdown to Extinction,” and I don’t give much of their post-2000 work much playing time anyway. This thing isn’t going to change that for me, but at least they’re still doing competent work and trying to stay true to their roots.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.megadeth.com/home.php

To buy “Th1rt3en,” go here: http://store.roadrunnerrecords.com/MEGADETH-Th1rt3en

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

It may seem a little early to be making concert plans for next year, but it’s not every day that Negură Bunget graces us with their presence. Actually, if you hail from North America, you’ve never had a chance to see the band in your homeland because this upcoming jaunt will be the band’s first ever.

The woodsy Romanian black metal band, that recently underwent some pretty major lineup changes, (with only drummer Negru remaining) have managed to maintain their greatness despite a whole bunch of new faces now carrying the banner. Sol Faur and Hupogrammos have gone onto to form a new band Dordeduh, leaving Negru to move on with his restocked band. Negură Bunget released a new album “Vîrstele Pămîntului” last year (it’s wonderfully rustic and jagged), and before that, they offered up “Măiestrit,” a reworked version of their 2000 cult classic album “Măiastru Sfetnic” that went over pretty big with their audience. It’s about as must-have as the source material.

The tour, which will culminate in an appearance at the 10^th annual Maryland Deathfest, will include Eclipse Eternal, Wolven Ancestry and The Way of Purity. Sponsorship comes from Metal Maniacs (I write for them), Terrorizer, BWBK, Archaic North and Beyond the Dark Horizon. It’s an incredibly stellar lineup anyway, and it’s made even more special by this rare treat of seeing Negură Bunget in the flesh.

In a release sent by the band’s North American publicist, Negru offered these thoughts about the monumental tour: “We are happy and proud to finally announce our North American tour plans for 2012. It has been a long time since we’ve been planning this, and we’ll do our best to create out of this an overwhelming spiritual experience both for us and the audience attending the concerts.”

Below are the dates/venues confirmed so far:

4/21/2012 – Montreal, Quebec @ The Katacombs – http://www.coopkatacombes.com
4/22/2012 – Quebec City, Quebec @ L’Agitee – http://www.agitee.org
4/24/2012 – Montcon, New Brunswick @ The Manhattan – http://www.themanhattanbarandgrill.com
4/27/2012 – Toronto, Ontario @ Hard Luck Bar – http://www.hardluckbar.com
4/28/2012 – Detroit, Michigan @ The Token Lounge – http://www.thetokenlounge.com
4/29/2012 – Chicago, Illinois @ Reggie’s Rock Club – http://www.reggieslive.com
5/2/2012 – Calgary, Alberta @ The Distillery – http://www.distillerypub.com
5/4/2012 – Kamloops, British Columbia @ Pogue Mahones Pub – http://www.poguemahonekamloops.com
5/6/2012 – Seattle, Washington @ El Corazon – http://www.elcorazonseattle.com
5/19/2012 – San Antonio, Texas @ Bonds 007 Rock Bar – http://www.myspace.com/sa_bonds007
5/24/2012 – Charlotte, North Carolina @ Tremont Music Hall – http://www.tremontmusichall.com
5/25/2012 – Baltimore, Maryland @ Maryland Deathfest – www.supremebrutality.com

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

To buy the band’s albums/merch, go here: http://shop.prophecy.de/advanced_search_result.php?keywords=negura+bunget&x=0&y=0

For more on the label, go here: http://www.prophecy.cd/

You have to love a band that compels you to drink beer and grill large quantities of meat the moment you hear their music. I feel like a broken record saying that about Savannah, Ga., sludgers Black Tusk because I’m pretty sure I write that every time I discuss this filthy, fun trio, but whatever. It fits the band and it’s 100 percent true.

The band has had a fairly prolific past couple of years. They released their barn-burning, drop-dead awesome Relapse debut “Taste the Sin” in the spring of 2010, and that record always will claim a soft spot in my heart because the week leading up to my wedding, every time I had to jump in the car and go take care of something for the event, that album went with me. Awwww. This year, Relapse re-released the band’s kick-ass 2008 first full-length “Passage Through Purgatory,” originally released by Hyperrealist. Now here we are, with 2011 nearing its conclusion – hey wait, it’s Oct. 21, 2011. Isn’t the world supposed to end today? – and we have a brand new platter from the band that maintains the heavy, muddy goodness we’ve come to expect, but they also pour in some more Southern rock influence than ever before. Got your bottle opener ready?

“Set the Dial” doesn’t quite have the intensity of their first two records, but what they lack in savagery this time around, they make up for in laid-back, simmering thrashing. It’s a bit more easy-going of a record, but don’t mistake that as meaning the album isn’t heavy. It is, and it’s still pretty nasty, and the fellows sound tighter and looser than on any of their previous work. This album, recorded with legendary producer Jack Endino (Soundgarden, High on Fire), sounds like it was crafted with a plan in mind that wasn’t set to stone and could be changed on a dime if that’s where their whims took them. That gives these songs unpredictability and energy not found on their other albums, and while it doesn’t always lead to better songs, it does keep things fresh and exciting. There also is a notable distribution of vocal duties among all members – guitarist Andrew Fidler, bassist Jonathan Athon, drummer James May – and while they always took turns yowling/shrieking out the messages, there’s pretty much equality now. It’s pretty cool to hear them constantly trade verses.

“Brewing the Storm” kicks off the album, and it’s an unassuming, get-your-ass-ready instrumental that leads you into “Bring Me Darkness,” where the dudes yowl “666” and promise destruction and unfathomable horror. It’s funny, though, that any time the band drops the man-downstairs references, they always come off as tongue-in-cheek and never sinister. It makes you smirk more than anything, and I don’t mean in a mocking way. It’s fun, damn it. “Ender of All” has a stoner thrash vibe and really rocks your bones at times, but it goes on about a minute too long for my taste. I think it would work better shorter, but what do I know? “Mass Devotion” has that swampy, Southern rock edge, where the shrieked vocals are balanced by dark, mean speaking behind them; “Carved in Stone” bleeds doom and ill intent, especially when you hear the barked line, “Time is up/There’ll be nowhere to run!”; “Resister” begins with picked acoustics and sounds like it’ll ease you on gently, but it’s a ploy, and eventually their mucky thrashing mauls you; and “Growing Horns” has power metal-style lead lines, almost as if they’re channeling early Iron Maiden, and it’s one of those most backyard-bash-ready killers that’ll get the authorities called to your home after it incites rowdiness.

All in all, I really dig “Set the Dial” and surely will give this plenty of playing time in the future, but I’d rank it a step below “Taste the Sin.” It’s more of a grower, where you have to take some time to feel out the rough edges and get used to the humid environment. It also should be noted John Dyer Baizley (of Baroness fame) handled the artwork again, and as expected, it’s a pretty cool looking piece. It actually reminds me a bit of a Japanese album cover, the way the whole thing is set up. So I’m off to the grocery store for some brews, because now I’m thirsty from having written this. I blame you, Black Tusk.

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

To buy “Set the Dial,” go here: http://www.relapse.com/search_result.php?search_by=all&q=black+tusk&x=0&y=0

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