Being able to feel morbidity and dark elegance pouring out of your headphones or speakers can be a cathartic event. Even the brightest people have their dark times, and for many of us, the pain and torment of existence is a common theme, something nearly impossible to shake. Losing yourself in music that feels the same way is like a form of therapy.

Chilean death/doom force Mourners Lament make it very easy to fall into the depths of madness and mourning on their excellent second album “A Grey Farewell,” the band’s first since their 2016 debut LP “We All Be Given.” This six-track, 65-minute behemoth conjures feelings from three decades ago and some of the pioneering bands of this sound, yet what Mourners Lament commit to record is something that’s a spirit their own. These songs are heavy both sonically and emotionally as the band—vocalist Alfredo Pérez, guitarist Marcos Contreras, bassist Franco Ciaffaroni, keyboard player Matias Aguirre, drummer Rodrigo Figueroa—shares generously the tumult inside of them that could mirror our own. It’s perfect music to hear when we’re in our own doldrums, seeking a like-minded force that has seen the same chaos and identified each step of the suffering process.

“Towards Abandonment” is the 10:58-long opener, feeling hazy and somber, keys zapping and gusting winds leading the way for the spreading growls. Keys drip as speaking rains down into the murk, the playing bursting as the growls get deadlier, doom fires stoked as the guitars lather. Synth bubbles as the storm closes in, the singing layering as everything succumbs to grimness. “Changes” is the longest track here, a 13:27 monster that slips in with warm guitars and welling keys, growls mixing in as the raw fury expands. The path settles into a fog as cold and dreariness rise, harsh howls sending ripples through serenity, punches landing later as the growls gut. Speaking crawls over icy guitars, eventually disappearing into the shadows. “Ocaso” basks in synth weariness, the speaking hypnotizing as the growls settle in, slithering through strange worlds. The keys get more intense, the elegance spreading as a huge gust loosens rock, dissolving into the night.

“The Clear Distance” runs a healthy 12:29, growls gutting early on, the punchy pace starting to add bruising. The playing shimmers as the force travels through mysterious skies, the guitars lathering as the growls engorge, synth layers increasing their hold. Howls mash as the gothy atmosphere thickens, bleeding before boiling over. “In a White Room” enters as keys glow, and the playing moves slowly, the growls bubbling to the surface as darkness reigns. The speaking again haunts, and the power increases, blistering with force and trudging as the vocals maul. Keys cascade as the messages haunt, the grief melting into closer “Mass Eulogy” that feel glorious and calming when it starts. The playing crushes as the guitars lap fire, the sadness spreading liberally, tangling and stomping before a new eruption adds scathing cries. Synth layers slip under dark waters, the drama suddenly hitting an uptick, bleeding out into echoes.

Mourners Lament sink so deep into death/doom territory, that you can’t help but be moved by their commitment on the darkly immersive “A Grey Farewell.” This is a record that’ll feel right at home in the colder months, when chilling rains and darker skies return, and we shiver the find some solace from the temperatures. But that shouldn’t stop you from indulging now, as this record is a massive, somber adventure that requires your body and mind to adapt and sink into the darkest reaches of your mind along with the band.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100077878803847

To buy the album, go here: https://personal-records.bandcamp.com/album/a-grey-farewell

For more on the label, go here: https://www.personal-records.com/

Loss is a fucking killer. It ripples through you like nothing you’ve ever experienced. It taxes your mind and can lead to psychological torment you didn’t know you were capable of experiencing. It takes years sometimes to feel remotely like yourself again, but even then, there’s a void, and it’s unfillable.

Bay Area experimentalists Mamaleek are not like any other band out there, and as a result, they don’t present grief and the impact of loss in a conventional manner. Then again, what is normal when you’re mourning the loss of a former band member, an integral part of their sound? Their eighth record “Vida Blue,” named after the legendary pitcher who was a vital cog in the Oakland A’s World Series-winning teams in the 1970s, is a nine-track, nearly 53-minute portrait of the band contemplating loss in various forms from what it’s like to be without people, money, country, and other elements that make up their lives. Blue himself passed away in May of 2023, and the A’s announced they’re leaving their longtime home in Oakland to play in Las Vegas. These are matters that surely weighed on the band, and their music that resembles Tom Waits fronting the most fucked up noise rock and metal band you ever heard is their place to work through the torment and pain.

“Tegucigalpa” starts with guitars looping and gravelly growls, the playing feeling busy and strange, the guitars chugging and spiraling. The playing is a total mind fuck, flutes swirling in air, the atmosphere feeling artful and wrenching to the end. “Vileness Slim” brings jazzy bass and speak singing, the aura going breezy though you know something unsettling bubbles underneath. Guitars pluck as moves are made in the dark, and then the leads blaze, choral chants making you grasp for the wall. Whistling pierces before the howls rip, weird chanting zapping out. The title track starts with horns clawing, gurgling vocals warbling, “Man of steel.” The whole thing brings on a fitting summer heat, trippy melodies coursing, Muppet-like cries eating at your muscles. Strings melt into tributaries, plodding as the wails of, “Vida Blue!” snaking like a baseball crowd frothing at the mouth, guitars warping and generating humidity. “Ancient Souls, No Longer Sorrowful” has strains of Middle Eastern music, stomps, and gruff growls, guitars turning into a volatile storm cloud, synth squealing and piercing skin. The whole thing turns disorienting, your brain frying as the singing spreads, and strange keys drip like a codeine syrup. “Momentary Laughter Concealed From My Eyes” is a weird interlude, feeling dreamlike with numbing chorals, slipping into a haze that mimics your deepest slumber visions.

“Black Pudding Served at the Horn of the Altar” opens with group singing, the pace thudding as the playing slurs, nasty wails following up behind all of this. The tension seems to taunt, do-wop glazing making your head spin, and then things get wonderfully detached from reality, blurring out into your nightmares. “Hatful of Rain” slips into woodwinds, the sounds entering into a bizarre new realm, harsh wails pounding on you, the punches digging into already bruised muscles. Sounds curdle as the vocals turn more sinister and vicious, and then a modicum of calm arrives, blending into bass slicks that grease your path. “Legion of Bottom Deck Dealers” is the longest cut, running 10:13 and immediately stepping into a psychedelic void, the singing soothing as the playing further warps minds. There’s a push into the cosmos, growls emerging and working through hypnotic beams, hulking into acoustics and buzzing voices, noise echoing as the bass chunks. The atmosphere turns more calming, but the vocals don’t let you off the hook, spitting nails as a jazzy ambiance slowly fades. Closer “Hidden Exit on a Greyhound” feels like the band took a trip back to the mid-’70s, soulful power pushing, guitars taking on a sunburnt gaze. Voices warble as the heat peaks, sounds blazing and stinging, the final strains heading deep into cold, unforgiving outer space.

The power and presence of loss can take someone to the ground, and the way Mamaleek processed and regurgitated that pain leads to some strange pathways on “Vida Blue.” This is a record that can make you feel insane, and strangely enough, loss can have that same effect on someone’s mind and body. This isn’t music that’s easy to decipher or digest, and that’s fitting because the experience of losing someone or something can be just as disruptive. These songs perhaps can make you realize not feeling right is all a part of the experience that you must endure, and that’s actually quite normal.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063715500356

To buy the album, go here: https://nowflensing.com/collections/front-page-pre-orders

For more on the label, go here: https://nowflensing.com/

Humanity and our world are hanging on by a thread, and with the fascist of the two American political parties denying the globe’s vulnerability so they can strip it for all it’s worth, reality is a motherfucker. An extinction event would not be this world’s first, though it might be the first where the beings that suffer the demise deserved every bit of it.

I’m not saying Adon’s self-titled debut is about that very thing, but it’s fairly close. On this six-track, 48-minute blackened death mauler, the band—vocalist Æthelwulf II, guitarist Nath—dig back through folklore and examine destructive cycles that repeat, wondering what it might be like when our existence comes to an end. Grim, sure. But this style of music always has been known to be confrontational, and to go back and examine errors of past generations would do us some good. By the way, this record originally was released as part of The Metalhead Box collection, but Neuropa caught wind and gave this album a full release on CD and vinyl with a deluxe layout, offering it fresh, volatile new life.

“Ascension” blisters out of the gates, crushing with black metal force, howls lashing as the leads pick up the intensity. The shrieks turn creakier, firing up the fury, blasting downhill recklessly and right into “Æther” that storms from the start. Beastly howls mix with a thunderous, stirring assault that figures out a way to feel fluid and sooty at the same time. The pace drives harder as the speed becomes a greater factor, clashing as howls scorch, spilling into calmer strains that drain out with clean playing. “Adon” runs a massive 16:43, and despite its epic length, it makes the most of the space it occupies. Organs, drilling guitars, and a vicious streak combine, choral calls encircling, the riffs jabbing and smoldering. Flutes flutter as the gaze thickens, entering a mystical realm, a long instrumental section searching and slipping, the playing erupting. Guitars lather as group calls surge, wrecking and simmering to a humid finish.

“Azimuth” explodes with terrifying howls and drilling, blistering playing, the guitars torching flesh, the leads lathering with blood. The aura turns eerie and mauling, the violence slipping into strange environments, the destruction shedding into ash. “Axiom” tears open, stomping as the guitars spiral recklessly, the guitars bubbling over and simmering in blood. Melody re-enters and overwhelms with power, the playing spews lava that eats through flesh, and a synth blast adds a frigid coat to the back end of the track. Closer “Æon” runs a healthy 11:03, entering from a strange, yet thorny realm, crazed shrieks exploding out of the chaos as the guitars add to the fury. Choral calls add a strange element to your dreams, and the playing turns hypnotic in stretches, leaving you feeling for a steady place to regain balance. The drums mash as icy punishment clutches your throat, the intensity spiking for a final time, an impenetrable fog swallowing everything whole.

Adon’s immersion into the possibility of what lies after our world ends is not new to metallic lore, but it’s always worth reexamining when newer artists try their hand at that brand of storytelling. That adds a compelling thrust to the band’s blackened death metal that sounds huge and enthralling, making them a decent breakthrough candidate to find favor among underground fans and the ones who relish more mainstream sounds. This self-titled debut is a solid start, an album good enough that it deserved plucked from obscurity and given new life so that it could live alongside the beasts.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.neuroparecords.com/en/product/adon-482

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

Black metal very often operates on speed and aggression, overwhelming you with sounds and an attack that seems like it has declared war on your mind. So, when bands in this sub-genre come at you with a different approach, it can be a little alarming at first as you test these waters. There are many ways to play black metal, none of them really wrong.

Swiss/German black metal force ColdCell certainly bring the heaviness and darkness, and they can be aggressive at points. But their music goes a different direction for the most part, burning in place, putting more emphasis on heaviness and battering force in a more calculated manner. Their new, fifth record “Age of Unreason” is a grower for that reason. It doesn’t explode out of the gates and ram violence down your throat. Instead, the band—vocalist S, guitarists Ath and DmL, bassist/samplist In, drummer aW (also of Schammasch)—grinds you in the gears, pouring unrelenting darkness and pressure into your already pounding skull, dragging you along for the ride.

“Hope and Failure” enters ominously, the pace slowly firing up as a haze takes over. Creaky howls dig under your nails as the playing gets more fiery, the drums gut, and strange warbling overcomes, sounds ringing out into oblivion. “Dead to the World” is punchy with a swirling pace, growls charring as the playing moves into ashen territories. The melodies slither, crawling through chaos, the tempo battering as the room begins to spin, desperate calls drilling into rock and melting into the ground. “Left” is foggy and dreary when it dawns, a molten diatribe unfurling as guitars sting and leave blisters. Ferocity explodes from guts, coming down heavier and more forcefully, crazed howls plastering and boiling in turmoil. “Solitary or Solitude” bathes in shadow, shrill howls making your head spin, the guitars bending as the blazes get thicker. The vocals unload as the playing sprawls, charring in place, the guitars slowly dissolving into puddles.

“Meaningless” features Ines Brodbeck of Inezona on guest vocals, and she brings a haunting nature to the track, a heartfelt display that plays with your emotions. The playing plods alongside, the rousing dashes adding beauty to the din, wordless calls reaching out and sending tingles down your spine. “Discord” is fluid and punchy, beastly howls taking you down as S calls, “I reject you, I cannot cast you out.” The growls only get thicker from there, boiling flesh as the playing thrashes, ripping brain wiring and disrupting signals. Closer “Sink Our Souls” is murky with guitars traversing mysteries, the darkness strangling as the scraping growls work you over, the drumming turning bones to paste. The guitars catch fire and increase the humidity, eventually going cold and reflective, the anguish spreading through the mangling howls, fires scorching as the final embers slip into the unforgiving clutches of eeriness.

ColdCell explore the lower levels of abyss and mine it for all its dark misery on “Age of Unreason.” This band never will blind you with speed or overt aggression, as their heaviness comes from the weight that fills out these songs, the pace that stomps you in the dirt. This is a record that will leave you bruised and battered from sustaining this campaign’s agony, letting you know you’ve been in a battle mentally and physically.  

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

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.aoprecords.de/gb/

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

Heaviness is a concept that doesn’t necessarily require sounds that batter your senses in order for that state to be achieved. You also can pay an emotional toll that makes it feel like you’ve been battered by unforgiving black waves, pushing you to your brink, sparked by sounds that feel like they’re here to soothe. Yet, reality proves the opposite.

It’s not that you can’t absorb dream doom power Iress and not let yourself fade into tranquility, but once you hear the words and intent of their music, especially what makes up their intoxicating second full-length “Sleep Now, In Reverse,” you’ll realize you taken a path to something more sinister. Their gazey energy dressed in doomy colors stands apart from most heavy music bands, and they’re one that could find followers in metal and so many other territories. The band—vocalist Michelle Malley, guitarist Graham Walker, bassist Michael Maldonado, drummer Glenn Chu—unleashes 10 tracks and 50 minutes that, while often softer and more delicate sounding, always leave room for thunder and pain. Malley’s ethereal singing and pointed words make you realize you’re in the middle of a quiet storm with the music providing the ideal setting, lulling you into wonder that feels perfect in the nighttime but always jerks you out of any comfort zone. This record is moving and menacing, an incredibly strong musical statement.

“Falling” eases its way into your mind, the singing icing wounds, a shadowy edge getting sharper as Malley levels, “Always waiting for you to call my name.” The playing falls and teases, the words are darts, and that seeps into slumber that feels transformative. “Ever Under” feels grungy at first, delicate singing  lathering with heart, the chorus rushing over you. “I know what it feels like to be broken,” Malley sings, softer melodies snaking underneath, disappearing into the unknown. “Mercy” emerges with a heavy emotional pall, the pace driving as Malley admits, “I don’t want to go, I don’t want to stay.” The singing rises, as does the tempo, sending sparks before pulling back, sounds simmering in an eerie strangeness. “Leviathan (The Fog)” plods and moves with a calculated plot, eventually landing some punches as the bruising arrives. “Didn’t want to go, sick obsession,” Malley repeats, working its way down your spine, mixing into a deep fog and eventually fading away. “Lovely (Forget Me Not)” is a little thornier, guitars dripping and leaving a sheet of uneven ice, the playing getting a little dirtier. The melodies swell before becoming more fluid, guitars blending into a ghostly gaze.

“The Remains” is cloudy and pillowy, the verses gripping your mind, the chorus warming up as the guitars soar. The playing gets a little tougher, swinging through fire, digging in and drubbing with a newfound force, churning your sore muscles. “In Reverse” bleeds into the picture, deep calling feeling like it’s emerging from your sleep, the guitars elevating the temperature as the drums clash. The pressure eases for a moment, guitars falling like sheets of rain, the singing echoing and mesmerizing, flowing directly into the shores of “Knell Mera.” Grimy playing clogs your veins as guitars melt and drizzle, making the aura feel surreal. There’s even a level of peril crawling underneath this being, swinging back and trudging, Malley demanding to know, “Will you take it over me?” “Sanctuary” starts clean, but the vocals give off a foreboding sense, Malley jabbing, “You broke me in two,” before warning, “I see red.” The melodies snake through murky waters, Malley calls, “You said I’m not what you wanted,” as the hurt and disappointment revels in blood. Closer “Deep” starts basking in shadows, guitars plucked over hushed singing, Malley pleading, “Take it easy … on me.” Electric impulses rise to the surface as the darkness emerges again, slowly letting this minimalist dream fade, the wounds you sustained trying to congeal.

Iress pull no punches on “Sleep Now, In Reverse,” using the surreal energy of their doom glaze to send unsettling energy down your spine. It’s not the heaviest record from a decibel standpoint, but you will feel every word and ride every ripple of this gloomy sojourn. Iress have been a mesmerizing force ever since they arrived, and as they build new blocks on their foundation, their prowess and muscle grow in leaps and bounds.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://www.dunealtar.com/products?utf8=%E2%9C%93&search=iress

Or here (Europe): https://deathwishinc.eu/collections/church-road/products/iress-sleep-now-in-reverse

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

And here: https://churchroadrecords.com/

Being a person looking at half a century on Earth, the bulk of that time I have been an unabashed lover and defender of heavy metal. The roots, to me, always will be the biggest part of that passion, and my first sub-genre of obsession was power metal. Maiden, Helloween, Priest, and Queensrÿche were gospel to me, and actually, they still are.

Long-running power revivalists Ironflame have been at it for almost a decade now, and they have paid homage to those classic sounds. Their great fifth record “Kingdom Torn Asunder” is upon us, and if you have that hunger for this style, prepare to be overfed. In a good way. Oddly enough, this record was written and recorded before their 2022 album “Where Madness Dwells,” so it’s both a continuation and a look back, in a way. But it is chock full of incredibly catch power metal that is the calling card of this band—vocalist Andrew D’Cagna (Icarus Witch, Nechochwen), guitarist/vocalist Quinn Lukas, guitarist Jesse Scott, bassist James Babcock, drummer Noah Skiba—and if you also happen to be a fan of fantasy storytelling and the best of classic metal tropes, then you’re right at home alongside me.

“Blood and Honor” is a rousing opener with a flurry of guitars, D’Cagna’s soaring voice, and crushing energy filling your veins. Strong soloing floods over as the pace stampedes, references to Valkyrie and her love of battle pump, vowing for revenge for the father’s death as the track slams shut. “Soul Survivors” is on fire out of the gates, thrashing and driving, the power metal passion palpable. “This destiny awaits us,” D’Cagna calls over the punchy chorus, the guitars taking on a folkish bend even though they’re electrified as hell, lapping with waves of devastation. “Majesty of Steel” feels like it was inspired by “Lock Up the Wolves” era Dio as this track is about driving fast in an old, classic car, D’Cagna declaring, “You’re the beast behind the wheel.” The tempo charges as the guitars bubble with glory, the chorus rushing back before the final moments leave tire burns. “Mistress of Desire” has a strong start, churning as the singing explodes, D’Cagna pushing his voice even higher on the chorus. Guitars take control as D’Cagna wails, “Her blackened wings will take you higher,” as the band chugs and lands a few more savage blows.

“Standing Tall” shows more aggression, the guitars working into a lather, the double-kick drums pulverizing your chest. The warning to prepare for war is in the air, guitars engulfing and increasing the temperature, the bravado overflowing as D’Cagna declares, “On us you can depend.” “Sword of a Thousand Truths” is crunchy, but the pace pulls back a bit, more of a mid-tempo, but still heavy piece that chews muscle. Warmer guitars lather as D’Cagna calls, “Hear the screams of 1,000 men dying to be free again,” landing as the fuel scars and leaves exhaust behind. “Riding the Dragons” again reminds of Dio, which will draw no complaints. The urgency to join the battle is apparent, and the punchy verses lead to a chorus that makes your blood race. There’s a classic metal feel to a lot of this, and the soloing reminds me of the early days of power metal, finally settling into ash. On the vinyl version, “Shadow of the Reaper” is your finisher, stomping prone bodies, the guitars racing as the singing feels a bit more restrained. “It’s time to close your eyes and let yourself go,” D’Cagna prods as you’re deeply immersed, guitars taking final control, lathering and leaving burn marks. “Cold Flesh Falls”  is the first of two CD bonus tracks, and it feels like it could belong with anything on the first eight songs, but “Exile of the Sun” is something different. With its slow, mystical aura, it actually would serve as a nice change of pace in the middle of the LP version, and it’s an elegant, classic power metal dose of emotion.

Ironflame always will have a soft spot with this power metal, um, kid, and “Kingdom Torn Asunder” is a perfect serving of what this band does best. Power metal has taken a back seat to death, doom, and black metal, but it is anything but a dead concept, as this band proves yet again on this rousing display. This is heavy metal at its finest, in its most original form, and for someone like me who has spent more than three decades indulging in these sounds, it reminds me why I feel in love with this stuff in the first place.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.hrrecords.de/HRR-RELEASES

For more on the label, go here: https://www.hrrecords.de/

Saying a record is a perfect way to ensure you slip into unconsciousness on your way to strange and fulfilling dreams might sound like an insult. It’s definitely not. I’m a person who likes to fall asleep listening to cosmic black metal playlists because the sounds relax me, and as much as they also can get my blood flowing, they can serve dual purposes.

“Dawn and All That Follows” is the fifth record from Bay Area post-metal power Mountaineer, and as they develop their sound, they dig further into that terrain where their music equally can rouse and calm you. Ever since their start in 2015 and first full-length, 2017’s “Sirens & Slumber,” the band—vocalist Miguel Meza, guitarists Clayton Bartholomew, Forrest Harvey, and Isaac Rigler, bassist Dillon Variz, drummer Jordan Norton—has been on a journey to refine their sound. On this eight-track, 48-minute album, the playing is more delicate and definitely has that early morning, pre-dawn vibe where you wake suddenly and then slip back into a dream state that carries you until sunlight strikes. It’s moving and powerful, a massive statement from a band that isn’t afraid to mix softness in with their heavier sounds.

“Cradlesong” opens in fluid dreaming, Meza calling, “Are you sleeping? Are you awake?” as the band works into medicinal numbness. The playing is lush and vibrant, the pace picking up as Meza reiterates his questions as if prodding someone, the guitars catching fire and working into “Hypnos” that drives with gazey power. At times pillowy, at others churning, the singing glazes, and everything pulses with energy. The playing picks up, the hits land heavier, and the vocals spreads kinetic energy, finally bleeding away. “Prism” gets off to a clean start, the singing rushing, the playing developing at a slower pace so that the drama can soak into your pores. The singing bursts as the playing follows suit, soaring toward the sun, the power jolting through melody, a final gust cresting and lapping back to sea. “Dawn and All That Follows” is dark and hazy, the vocals easing through warm pockets, and then shrieks rain and dice flesh. The pace takes chances as the growls smear, the playing settling into dreaminess, the calls easing as the final moments ice your brain.

“Testimonial” drips with freezing precipitation before the power bursts, strong singing rousing as the playing grows increasingly doomier. “I keep falling further and further away from myself,” Meza calls, wrenching with emotional intensity, repeating the call as frigid keys fall like daggers. “You Will Always Be One of Us” has guitars bending and a foggy feel, slower playing and softer singing landing, and then heaviness emerges and quakes the earth. Electricity pulses through your body as the emotion floods over, pummeling with fire and angling into “Dark Passenger” that echoes with siren-like noises. The playing is burly, shrieks sending jolts, the guitars liquifying and giving off a strange mist. The pace calms a bit before bursting anew, the energy surrounding you with impenetrable darkness, coming to a raucous end. Closer “Parallels” brings stinging guitars and rushing singing, pulling at your heart. The guitars rise and scar before pulling back, the leads layering as each level adds passion, Meza singing, “This moment can last forever,” as acoustics flood and fade.

“Dawn and All That Follows” is a record that took me a few tries to really absorb what is going on here, but once I did, the ride took me somewhere that my brain didn’t realize was possible. Mountaineer slowly have been moving toward this point over their run, and this new phase feels natural and stimulating, capable of even more exciting adventures in the future. It also doesn’t hurt that the music can wash over you and soothe frayed nerves, giving you a dose of heaviness while basking in energies that numb the senses.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.athousandarmsstore.com/collections/mountaineer

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

I really dislike taking about heavy metal in any depth with anyone who doesn’t really know me, because it never goes well. Usually I get, “Oh yeah, I like Disturbed,” and we’re not even on the same planet. It’s also a challenge when I mention death metal and the assumption is these are cave people who can’t play a lick. Again, not my favorite situation.

Anyone who thinks death metal bands are a bunch of brutes who can’t play their instruments can get a heavy education from Laceration on their punishing, yet technically proficient second record “I Erode.” Sure, there are plenty of other bands that can handle that task, but we’re talking Laceration today, and anyone who takes on this nine-track, 32-minute scorcher will have to admit their foolishness. The band—vocalist/guitarist Luke Cazares, guitarist Donnie Small, bassist Eli Small, drummer Aerin Johnson—follows in the footsteps of like-minded beasts such as Death and Morbid Angel as a force that can grind your face in ugliness and blood but also have the chops to leave you heaving.

“Degradation (Intro)” opens with synth beams hovering, eeriness spreading like a noxious cloud and breaking over “Excised” that lands heavy blows as death reigns. Growls hammer as the guitars increase the steam, with exploratory leads giving off a bit of a sci-fi edge. The pace then changes and drubs, howls slashing as the playing batters to a finish. “Sadistic Enthrallment” opens with a clip from “Hellraiser” before the playing bludgeons, punishing with coarse growls and ripping fire. The playing encircles as destruction is amplified, and precise, laser-sharp soloing cuts a hole in muscle, stampeding on its way out. “Vile Incarnate” opens with a speedy jolt, an aggressive push grinding teeth and bone. Throaty howls lacerate as the guitars go off, thrashing and trudging, the leads speeding through the night sky. “Dreams of the Formless” is a classic-style metal instrumental, acoustics initially setting the stage before electricity engulfs. Elegance and steam build as the playing takes you through decades of metal history, leaving a bloody taste in your mouth.

“Carcerality” punishes and splatters, drums laying waste, the guitars on a massive attack, melting with heat and speed. The soloing is sharp and furious, making your head spin as everything comes to a rousing finish. “Strangled By Hatred” attacks from the bell, landing heavy blows and chilling with the howl of, “Never to let go!” The guitars open up and consume, full-bodied insanity barreling down a hill, the insanity driving to a hellish conclusion. “Impaling Sorrow” is a total assault that scrambles brains and the signals inside, chugging and brutalizing as eyes are blackened easily. Growls smash as the technicality goes to a new level, the pace battering to a vicious end. The closing title track crushes, the gas pedal hammered, entangling with thrashy intent. Strong leads go on an adventure and drag you along, and vibrant colors are dashed all over the carnage. The bruising multiplies, guitars glow as dual melodies strike, and the embers fade slowly.

“I Erode” is a dazzling display of classic death metal splashed with modern blood, and Laceration waste no time making their statement on this devastating second record. It’s properly brutal, but it’s also a fascinating listen as they explode with musical prowess and tenacity that goes beyond simple skullduggery. Whether you’re new to the game or have been dining in death’s halls for decades, everyone can come together over this platter and feast to your heart’s content.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.20buckspin.com/collections/laceration

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

It’s easy to get caught up in the drama that surrounds this world, and with our political and societal volatility increasing by the hour, it would be nice to escape this plane to head somewhere else for a while. Is there somewhere else? We might never know in our current form, but the idea has been around forever, and who’s the say this world is the end?

Slovakian black metal force Ceremony of Silence examine that very concept and others on their thunderous second record “Hálios,” which is a motherfucker. This seven-track bruiser is served just right, a thick and blackened dose of death metal that might remind a bit of Ulcerate but brawls in different directions. This album contemplates the idea of our place in the universe, the illumination of the great star around which we revolve, and, in their words, a reenacting of “the old stories inspired by the essence of the ancient Indo-European mythology, entwined in the obscure visions and dreams.” It’s a lot to consider, but this band—vocalist N., guitarist/bassist/vocalist Viliam Pilarčík, drummer Matúš S. Ďurčík—makes the venture one in which you’ll want to engage, and their utter ferocity is enough to pull you into a place you’ll never want to leave.

“Primaeval Sacrifice” instantly rips everything to shreds, scrambling brains with vicious growls and a force that quakes the earth. The melodies snake through soot, combusting with beastly growls as the playing drills into the earth, drawing lava and trudging to a burly end. “Serpent Slayer” drives and roars, peeling back flesh as dizzying playing makes you lightheaded, grisly growls continuing that disorientation. The pressure continues to dig into muscle, increasing the heat as it goes to dangerous levels, the guitars lathering as the molten rock continues to flow at an inescapable pace. “Moon Vessel” bathes in humidity as the riffs jerk, and the low end smashes with concise abandon. The drums pound away as the smearing vocals spread ash down your throat, letting sounds hang in the air and haunt, finally submitting to echo. “Eternal Return” is a short, blunt track with guitars stinging, growls festering amid an ashen atmosphere, clouds eventually blocking out the sun.

“Light Runs Through Light” pulverizes, blistering with seismic force, the growls burying all hopes as the bludgeoning hits dangerous levels. The curdling heat gets more oppressive as the music tangles and explodes, wrenching as the drums combust, the growls scorch, and cosmic confusion is at its apex. “Perennial Incantation” smashes its way in, the leads hinting every so slightly at melody, the pace ripping and pulverizing, sounds hovering as the roars increase in intensity. The chaos bewilders and wrecks, guitars branching out, the thick steam bath robbing you of consciousness. Closer “King in the Mountain” slays, thrashing with start/stop mashing, drubbing with a force that does not have your well being in mind. Gargantuan hell is unleashed, sinew pushing through open wounds, a psychedelic echo making you wonder about your sanity. Eeriness thickens and then erupts, tearing holes in the earth, bending time at its will, expiring in a thick halo of exhaust.

Ceremony of Silence capture the brutality and mystery of trying to branch into another dimension, pushing your limits elsewhere as your corporeal form battles modern struggles. “Hálios” reaches into mysticism and the heavens with a battering ram, a record that feels like it is trying to dislodge the core of the earth and jettison it into the stars. This is a mighty, alluring work, an album that leaves you battered but profoundly more connected to this world and the next.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.willowtip.com/store/

For more on the label, go here: https://www.willowtip.com/home.aspx

Love and intimacy don’t come up a whole lot with the records we write about here and with the bulk of heavy music releases that arrive each year. The earlier days of heavy metal would entertain these topics more regularly, but as this form of music has gotten darker and more dangerous, these themes have gone by the wayside.

Dutch power Vuur & Zijde (translates to “fire and silk”) brings that long-forgotten theme back into our consciousness on their great debut “Boezem” (translates to “bosom”), a nine-track, 46-minute full-length. Conditional and unconditional love, intimacy, and the bonds of motherhood are major parts of this record, which is something you won’t find in many other places. The band—vocalist Famke Canrinus, guitarist/synth player Nicky Heijmen, guitarist Carmen Raats, bassist Sylwin Cornielje, drummer Richard Japenga—bring experience from other metallic units including Terzij de Horde, Silver Knife, Witte Wieven, Grey Aura, and others, though they have evened out their more black metal strains and colored them with various shades of grey. There is a deep post-punk vibe interwoven into these songs, and they could just as easily find favor among metalheads as they could a goth audience or someone into Cocteau Twins. Canrinus’ vocals are sung in Dutch and Frisian, a language still spoken in a few Dutch and German areas.

“Onbemind” is gothy and hazy, Canrinus’ singing chilling flesh, eventually exploding and gushing with new energy. The drums blast as a gazey wonder spreads, the singing adding grey hues, punching and melting into a hum. “Zusterzon” brings darkness amid bending basslines, the singing luring you into a trap. Cloud coverage increases as Canrinus’ vocals numb, the moodiness lurking consistently, the tempo staying active and pumping blood until every element settles into ash. “Ús” is dreary as the singing chills, guitars dripping and creating a mist, gliding through the shadows. The playing hypnotizes, Canrinus’ words coursing through veins, and then the sounds corrode, the pressure thickening before dissolving. “Onbemind” brings a vibrant pace, the playing charring as the guitars thicken, the singing sweeping through dimensions. A catchy, driving pace gets the waters flowing with greater force, the playing overtaking with colors before splitting into static.

“Kuier” opens amid nighttime keys, a cold wave going through you as speaking sends strange sensations, the fog thickening as rain lands harder, compromising your vision. Weirdness eats away at your psyche, red and orange hues brushing the horizon. “II” has guitars playing tricks, the singing glazing, and the smearing melodies reminding of the glory days of the 4AD label. Synth zaps as the bass recoils, Canrinus’ singing again carrying the emotion, encircling into a frosty landing spot. “Nest” punches harder, a more metallic approach increasing the thorniness. Strong vocals prod as the guitars get mightier, the playing haunting as the echoes ring out, the backbone solidifying, a stirring tempo taking over as the final strains bleed away. “Adem” has a strong post-punk vibe, the bass chugging as the guitars get more devious. An icy strangeness works through your cells, the tempo getting your adrenaline going, the guitars merging with an oncoming storm. Closer “Naakt” brings a guitar haze and belting singing, the playing basking in a fog as the pace buzzes. The heat increases as the vocals dig their claws into muscle, the bass doubles down, and spirited woah calls create sparks, slowly dissolving into dreams.

Vuur & Zijde not only branch further than any metallic boundaries, they also refuse to back down from genre cliches by embracing the themes of love with enthusiastic darkness. “Boezem” certainly plays well in heavier music spaces, but there’s so much more going on here, a rushing world where nurturing and intimacy are embraced, celebrated, and put on full display. This is an exciting, shadowy record and band that, even if the language barrier prevents you from understanding the words, the emotion and themes easily get past all of that and give you a new understanding of what’s possible in heavy music.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://us.spkr.media/us/Artists/Vuur-Zijde/

Or here (Europe): https://en.prophecy.de/en/Artists/Vuur-Zijde/

For more on the label, go here: https://en.prophecy.de/