The amount of people using (even if blindly) and putting all their eggs into the AI basket is fucking astonishing and terrifying to me at the same time. Slavery to machines might not be as far off as we’d like to think, but considering the billionaire class and many world economies are going all in makes you wonder if everything is going to crash or if we all will become obsolete.

Lychgate have returned late in the year with “Precipice,” their winding, dramatic, and dark new record that ponders a future with total dependence on machines. The music and words are inspired by E.M. Forster’s 1909 sci-fi short story The Machine Stops, which was terrifyingly ahead of its time, as well as works by H.G. Wells and T.S. Eliot, layering dystopian fiction into their black metal that refuses to adhere to subgenre structure. The band—vocalist Greg Chandler (also of Esoteric), guitarist/organ player/piano player J.C. “Vortigern” Young, guitarist S.D. Lindsley, bassist Tom McLean, drummer T. J. F. Vallely—infuses elements of industrial and jazz into this nine-track album that reveals horrors going on right now that very well may determine our futures. If we have one at all.

“Introduction – The Sleeper Awakes” opens in orchestral waves, feeling like the opening credits for a dark film, drums marching and howls gathering, spilling into “Mausoleum of Steel” that chokes in soot as it opens. Growls spit as the synth strikes a frosty note, stirring and unleashing deep reds hues. Howls retch as the pace lurches, fascinating as the playing chugs into oblivion. “Renunciation” has synth sweeps and mashing tension, the leads glowing as they take on speed, creating an unavoidable storm. Howls slash as the pace tears into progressive sparks, the keys cascading into oblivion. “The Meeting of Orion and Scorpio” is elegant as it dawns, deep speaking prodding veins, a jazzy ambiance adding extra shadow. The pace smokes and slinks as the guitars turn of the temperature, keys rain down, and smooth vibes settle into the night. “Hive of Parasites” starts amid mesmerizing keys and moves toward ravaging punishment, cries wrenching as the pressure continues to build. Prog-style keys simmer as the pace opens again, growls choking, the guitars chugging and fire spitting from loose corners. Calmer guitars then float above, keys drizzle, and an explosion of shrieks smother.

“Death’s Twilight Kingdom” has keys dancing and guitars darting, the growls rumbling as every element tangles for control before an unexpected silence. Keys tumble out of that as the tempo guts, the guitars engulf the surroundings in flames, and the growls trudge before an ending awash in dramatics. “Terror Silence” has the riffs carving and the vocals beat in more of a recitation mode, feeling like they’re conjuring spirits. Wintry keys coat with a sheet of ice as the vocals overpower and deliver pointed blows, the final blasts knocking you back a ways. “Anagnorisis” has the pace crumbling and the calls blackening, the keys making the ambiance feel like a snow-covered landscape with unforgiving winds. Speaking creaks as the sounds rise, the harshness grows in leaps and bounds, and the playing barrels ahead, cut perilously by zany guitar lines that challenge psyches. Closer “Pangaea” opens with keys sweltering and the guitars equaling the intensity, the vocals boiling in the mix. Melodies linger as the keys rush, jarring adrenaline before quietly fading.

Lychgate saved a dark, emotional gem for damn near the end of the year with “Precipice,” an album that proves the band’s ambition knows no satisfaction. Digging into humanity’s subservience to technology, especially that not fully realized yet, sends chills as you take on this dystopian nightmare the band colors so well with black metal that feels suffocating and imaginative at the same time. The slope (hilariously I misspelled this as slop at first) is slippery, and we’re flying the fuck down it. Perhaps this blast furnace of chaos can help some of us wake up from the horror.

For more on the band, go here: https://lychgate.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://debemurmorti.aisamerch.com/

Or here (International): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/24-pre-orders

For more on the label, go here: https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/

There are a lot of people disillusioned and downright depressed about the state of the world, and if you live in the United States as I do, it’s a mix of horror and disgust every day that is in no way sustainable. It’s hard to remember that these times do not last, and light one day will reemerge, but simmering in the agony makes hope seem impossible.

Sacramento-based funeral doom duo Oromet stand in the middle of a crumbling and hopeful existence on their second record “The Sinking Isle,” an album that shows the darker side of their creativity that serves as a counterbalance to their 2023 self-titled debut. Again drawing inspiration from fantasy artist Ted Nasmith, whose breathtaking artwork again adorns their cover, the band—vocalist/guitarist Dan Aguilar, drummer/bassist/synth player/backing vocalist Patrick Hills—reaches deep into the surrounding darkness and create something darkly melodic and richly layered. Yes, there is misery at every turn, but to find our way to a rebirth that is better for all, we must endure the suffering.

“Hollow Dominion” opens and is the longest track, running 20:49 and taking its time to unfurl the dreaded majesty. The first couple minutes are serene, calm even, a thread of sorrow pulled through the middle. The growls enter and corrode as the glacial pace drags its way across the surface. The playing is thunderous, guitars glimmering, the emotion gushing as bells chime, the lower end of the surface rumbling with power. Drums echo as the sounds build drama, cosmic synth blowing stars across the sky, a spacious gust bringing back the devastation. Melodies unload as wrenching force pushes, the playing cascades, and the growls gut hard over melting guitars.

“Marathon” crashes, growls scarring, a spacey atmosphere stretching over everything, howls smashing as boiling interference stretches its grasp. Colder temperatures arrive as the fog increases, guitars drip, and keys zap, the ice slowing thawing. The pounding returns as the wails spill over and bubble, hearts pour blood, and a strange intermission crackles, pushing into closer “Forsaken Tarn.” The playing mashes, growls burning even as clean, elegant waters spill over cliffs. The leads weep as gargantuan pounding combines with snarling growls and a sound burst that feels like a storm exploding. Wails slice as emotion flows from open veins, the ground is deliberately pounded as keys glaze, and the glorious fury echoes into dimensions.

“The Sinking Isle” is a perfect name for this record as Oromet create a soundtrack to an imploding world that sustains damage as excruciatingly as possible. The galactic elements that paint dark matter over pain and misery also happen to pave a way for potential pinholes of light that could be a step forward. This is a massive album, a great piece of work that pushes Oromet into the upper echelon of doom powers and hopefully should continue to expand their reach even further.

For more on the band, go here: https://oromet.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://hypaethralrecords.com/collections/releases/products/oromet-the-sinking-isle

Or here (U.S.): http://transylvanianrecordings.com/album/oromet-the-sinking-isle

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

Going to sleep at night really is just that, right? Lying down and going to sleep. Same with taking an intense nap. Just floating off into your mind. Or is it something more than just slipping out of consciousness? Do we take ourselves to another plane and gain access to knowledge or slip into another dimension, visiting places that may await us later?

Icelandic/U.S. black metal power Martröđ are on that wavelength with “Draumsýnir Eldsins,” their debut full-length record and first release in nine years. For a record that basically means “dreams of fire,” it certainly tears into your psyche and expands what is possible mentally when your body is at rest, but not your mind. The band—vocalist/guitarist H.V., guitarist A.P., bassist M.H.P., drummer J.B.—uses four tracks to carve a pathway into something greater, materials we can’t access when we’re walking around awake, a record that cracks open your skull and lets new juices flow inside.

“Sköpunin” tears open, stirring howls smearing, the playing churning, dissolving, and then reigniting. The battle continues as guitars boil and dive bomb, eventually working into calmer waters, a frost front slowly moving into the picture. Cavernous, pained wails echo as the bass reverberates, guitars melt, and pastoral choral strains turn monstrous, strings stretching into “Líkaminn” that glazes before the vocals bathe you in acid. The pace whips tornadically, the carnage worked into a hypnotic storm, zapping and surging into chilling keys. The ghostly feel sweeps as infernal calls unload, whipping up the humidity, sounds chiming and warping into space.

“Tíminn” delivers spacious guitars that hover overhead, wrenching vocals that reach a gurgle, and spacey fire that fuels the adventure. The playing cools, letting clouds form, a dream state setting up and making you question reality. The chaos sprawls as the tension builds, guitars storming with a dizzying attack, voices echoing over a dramatic end. Closer “Dauðinn” simmers in organs as the guitars sheen, the melodies gently sailing though you know chaos awaits. Speed and fury combine, roars maul, and the angles dart at you from unpredictable points. The attack is rubbery before bursting with daring colors, warped crumbling, and an implosion that swirls with menace.

If Martröđ were seeking to develop a pathway to greater understanding with “Draumsýnir Eldsins,” they do achieve that sonically as this is music that feels like it is transferring you elsewhere. These four tracks carry more than just riffs and metallic jolts and, if you allow yourself to sink into the madness, you will find an experience that surpasses mere album. These are ideal sounds for the darker days when sleep becomes plentiful and our chances to branch beyond here are at an apex. 

For more on the band, go here: https://martrod.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://debemurmorti.aisamerch.com/

Or here (International): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/24-pre-orders

For more on the label, go here: https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/

December is such a weird time for new music. As someone who writes about it and is bombarded with new releases all the time, this is the time of the year when the spigot is at a drip, and finding stuff to fill these pages gets tough. But there are gems out there if you look for them, and one today might have hit harder during the Halloween times.

Pedestal for Leviathan play death metal splashed with symphonic edges, some black metal, and a darkness that would have sounded great when pumpkins and skeletons still were dotting lawns. Full confession: mine still has both elements. Anyway, the band is helmed solely in the studio by Kendrick Lemke (vocals, guitar in the live setting) which is astonishing when you take on  “Enter: Vampyric Manifestation.” It’s heavy, passionate, emotional, and dripping with strangeness that makes this beast even more imposing. In a live setting, Lemke is joined by guitarist Mathew Meyer, bassist Noah Filthen, and drummer Corbin Echtermeyer, because it surely takes a team effort to get these songs translated live. There is a lot going on here with this eight-track album (11 depending on the version), and it’s a really immersive experience that toggles between elegance and bloodshed, often in the same verse. 

“Chalice Bleeds Intoxicant” starts with spooky synth and icy guitars, opening into a chasm that is swallowed by massive death growls. The playing totally tears apart, speedy vocals spat, the playing charring, and riffs swooping, burning into oblivion. “Summoning Sickness” unloads with snarling death, keys blazing and darting through chaos, the growls mangling and punishing. The drama intensifies as do the vocals, the playing getting tougher and less conventional as we go. “Lycanthropichrist” (say that 5 times really fast … or one time at all) has guitars dive bombing, a mashing force pushing everything to the surface, and beastly growls interacting with stinging keys. The senses activate further as the growls engorge, and the power ruptures completely, blasting with sun-exploding colors. “Sanctity of Retribution” is hazy and dripping, feeling overcast before a storm. Deep growls lurch as strings dance and dash, the guitars rise from the ashes, and the growls maul, leaving a bloody imprint as orchestral waves wash everything away.

“Purgatory Displacement” has the synth diving, growls retching, and downtuned madness making the bottom end even thicker. Bells chime as the ravaging speed takes over, drama spiking along the way, gang shouts exploding, and a tougher push disappearing into whipping winds. “Karmic Recollection Mirror” has keys fluttering, the guitars tangling, and main melodies lines snaking through oil slicks. The howls hammer with deeper tones, the synth soars, and the emotion runs over the rim, ending in choking growls and soot. “Snow Covered Monolith” is a quick instrumental that feels equally like a regal entrance theme and wiry videogame score, all while chilling your bones. “Warlock Blacksmith” is the closer on some versions, erupting with devastating consequences, trudging as the growls punish, and mud cakes the gears. The fury aims to gut, and it does effectively, the growls curdle, and the keys slink and fire in raw horror, blistering to the end. Some versions have three bonus tracks—”Siphoning of the Liege,” the rawer “Beast Rune,” and ghostly mauler “Nightshade Familiar”—that are worth hearing for sure. I do find the eight-track version a little tighter and more urgent.

Pedestal for Leviathan, sadly, is bound to get lost in the glut of December releases, but “Enter: Vampyric Manifestation” is chock full of excitement, gore, and death metal that dabbles in black metal’s deep pools. This record is full of energy and attitude but never at the expense of the violent underpinning the music is selling. This is an album perfect for the dark, cold nights when your spirit wishes to travel elsewhere for a little while.

For more on the band, go here: https://pedestalforleviathan.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://www.personal-records.com/product/pre-order-pedestal-of-leviathan-enter-vampyric-manifestation/

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

I listen to a podcast on a very regular basis where the two hosts dissect, fact check, and later mock the insane actions of a well-known conspiracy theorist turned water carrier. It’s a way for me to try to understand the bizarre split realities in which we live and how we got to this point. It also helps me laugh about something so obviously absurd.

Finnish grindcore masters Rotten Sound have been making lightning-fast records and fiery statements about our fucked-up world since forming more than three decades ago. “Mass Extinction” is the band’s 11^th EP (to go along with eight full-lengths), and it comes at the tail end of a chaotic 2025, a year especially heinous in this country. These nine tracks that last, combined, just under 10 minutes, lash at a world overcome with strife, misinformation (so much of it on purpose), chaos and oppression, so much so that creating change proves potentially impossible. The band—vocalist Keijo Niinimaa, guitarist Mika Aalto, bassist/backing vocalist Matti Raappana, drummer Sami Latva—wastes no time unleashing vitriol, dire warnings, and devastation, perhaps feeling you have to burn to the ground anything worth building back up again.

“Recycle” explodes, spitting hammers, howls smashing as the playing trucks and mashes heavily. “Ride of the Future” trudges, blinding howls incinerating, everything coming to a vicious, abrupt end. “Gone” launches, drums spattering as bodies are wrecked, and on a dime the pace changes, wrecking everything in its wake. “Polarized” somehow manages to go faster, machine-gun destruction eating into your insides and regurgitating them. “Brave New World” slashes, chugging mud as threats about the world being recycled blares like a loud speaker. The playing jackhammers, sending guts flying, leaving glass shards spraying the air. “Empty Shells” is a complete demolition, rubbery riffs flexing and rippling, stomping everything on the ground over raspy howls. “Idealist” is thrashy as well, cries of, “Wake up!” rousing, the energy mangling, ending as a total battery. The closing title track sludges, slow-driving power squeezing ribcages, eerie sound clips chewing nerves. An infernal crunch powers, the smoking fury raging out of control and into the madness.

Rotten Sound are as channeled and ferocious as ever on “Mass Extinction,” a mammoth EP that might be short in length but lands like a goddamn skyscraper being spiked off the ground. Their concern and fury over the state of the world is fully relatable, and the manner in which they spit nails is impressive. Shit might be burning everywhere, but at least people like Rotten Sound aren’t going to stand there with their arms folded.

For more on the band, go here: https://rottensound.com/

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://shopusa.season-of-mist.com/list/rotten-sound-mass-extinction

Or here (Europe): https://shop.season-of-mist.com/

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

It cannot be said clearly enough that not all art is for everyone, and it never should be. Universal appeal is boring as fuck and often means it was compromised so that no one’s tastes were put off and that maximum enjoyment can be accomplished by as many consumers as possible. Give me something brain mangling and confusing any day.

Chicago-based avant-garde death metal power Fleshvessel is right at home on I, Voidhanger, a label where creativity and non-conformity practically are musts to exist on their roster. The band’s new record  “Obstinacy: Sisyphean Dreams Unfolded” can push even the most adventurous listeners to their limit as the their dalliances with jazz, noise, progressive sounds and damn-near orchestra level of elements can make this latest look at the human struggles, kind of overwhelming. Kind of is being … kind. That’s not a criticism as much as a warning for the experience ahead that can be downright manic and brain melting. In the best possible way. The band—vocalist/keyboard player Troll Hart, multi-instrumentalist (and he takes on a ton of instruments) Alexander Torres, guitarist/bassist/phin player Sakda Srikoetkhruen, flautist Gwyn Hoetzer, drummer/triangle and chimes player Colin MacAndrew—teams with a slew of guest musician to bring this enormous vision to life. The continued weight we put on our own shoulders pushing the boulder up the hill gets maniacal presentation here, and it’s astonishing.

“Mental Myiasis” opens, running 9:33 and instantly shimmering, cutting open and mangling as the leads dazzle, the howls snarl, and the manic activity could make someone with sound sensitivities a little uncomfortable. I’ll be OK. High-pitched vocals that toggle the line between Axl Rose and King Diamond explode, clips from the 1975 film “Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom” intensify the anxiety, the singling later strangling before a sense of calm arrives. Maniacal gasps explode from that, organs dazzle, and a beastly rush is met by horns, guitar steam, and the energy bleeding out in the heat. “Am” is a 13:34-long beast that begins with mangling guitars, burly power, and flutes soaring, the singing fluttering and unloading before guitars zap. Screams melt, and more piercing wails lash, and the bass bubbles, increasing the atmosphere. The cosmos simmers as synth fold in, riffs scorch, and the organs boil. Dialog from Harlan Ellison’s 1967 sci-fi terror I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream warns of a supercomputer’s violence upon its creators, chants of “Hate!” chill, and howls gurgle into an endless menace. 

“Cessation Fixation” has the bass flexing, the pace engorging, and sludge clogging veins, the icy guitars carving into stone. There are some weird funk elements that, while seemingly out of place, actually work in this psychosis of sounds. The singing slices as the strange aura envelopes, guitars and keys mix as the drums destroy, and then a psyche blanket warps sight. The singing soars as chimes echo, the guitars ravage, and the sprawl disintegrates. Closer “It Lurched From a Chasm in the Sky” is the longest track, running 16:28 and starting clean, dialog flowing, banshee vocals making your ears vibrate. The playing grows more progressive as the keys dip into a disarming playfulness, the howls drench, and guest Hannah Goldstein’s singing takes you elsewhere amid jazzy fog and weird, whirring keys. The brutality returns and detonates for a stretch before it’s salved over by warm flutes and psychedelic melting, and the singing striking as the guitars waft into stars. Demonic wails cut bone, the attack comes crashing down, and the synth swarms, dashing to a finish.

Fleshvessel is not an easy band to digest, and it goes without saying that “Obstinacy: Sisyphean Dreams Unfolded” follows suit. Their continued look at the means of human struggles and how we often make for our own worst enemy comes in the form of a record that is not one that is likely to find favor with most audiences. And that’s OK! Art is meant to challenge and to put one’s comfort in danger, which this record does over and over again. It might not feel like a warm embrace, but each moment puts you and your preconceived notions about heavy music to the test. 

For more on the band, go here: https://fleshvesseldm.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://metalodyssey.8merch.us/

Or here (Europe): https://metalodyssey.8merch.com/

For more on the label, go here: https://i-voidhangerrecords.bandcamp.com/

Hearing something different or uncommon in an art form you’ve digested for decades can feel all kinds of different ways, good, bad, or indifferent. It’s the best when it hits something strange inside of you that reacts favorably, even if it leaves you disoriented for a listen. Or two. But you keep going back, and eventually it sticks.

Finnish duo Death Obvious attack with a dense, dizzying, reality-altering power on their self-titled debut record, and it’s from the beginning that the band—vocalist Lea Lavey, multi-instrumentalist Sima Sioux—approaches heaviness in a threatening, beastly way. The eight tracks on this album smother and tease, spill you into a weird dream world that contains an aura from which you struggle to wake. Yet, you’re drawn right into its center point nonetheless. There are doses of death metal and doom, and it’s blended into a miasmal, blunt assault that, while uncomfortable, also drags you to its heart. 

“Mercury Off Axis” is scarred by noise before formless chaos unloads, feeling like your brain is taking on interference. Howls stretch as the smoke rises, the guitars scuff, and sounds pierce. The vocals continue to slice as howls warp, and a drubbing, bizarre aura suffocates. “Santuario” trudges and takes dramatic swipes, howls gurgle in a corner, and the power combusts, stirring out of control. Strings tease as beastly mangling squeezes throats, guitars swelter, and the finish disorients. “The Great Gate Theory” floats overheard before guitars chug, drums sprawl, and some gnarly riffs add mud to the equation. Deranged howls chew nerve endings as the playing openly sprawls, hulking amid tortured cries, eerie strangeness, and an icy conclusion. “Total Heavenly Desolation” quivers before digging in, buried howls coating your psyche with ash, the playing bubbling to the surface out of a pit of blackness. Melting keys drip through time as guitars warp, and a gothy, wrecking push cripples your balance.

“The Third Eye Burning” pummels, blasting through walls, howls echoing through a mangling reality. Sounds swirl and hover as the vocals dislodge any sense of relief, the wails and moans sounding tortured, mucky, gurgling sounds robbing you of air. “Suffer the Spectacle” has numbing guitars and a sudden burst, growls choking on bile, every element marring as the guitars suddenly make extremities tingle. Horrifying wails disrupt sanity as things turn humid and then frigid, stirring up chaotic pressure that whips into a frenzy. “As Absence Expands Over Everything” has guitars opening their veins, keys turning, the vocals burning as melodies rain diamonds. The menace expands and blackens, spellbinding playing makes the room spin, and a chill overfalls everything, fading into strange echo. Closer “Catechismus for the Plagued” runs 8:30, and it stirs and blazes, howls stabbing with urgency, the playing strangling before coming to a halt. Guitars and keys seap out of that, the melodies coating windows with condensation, acidic screams eating into muscle. Noise ripples jar the earth, the drama increases and spins dangerously, and the final nail pounds into compromised flesh.

Death Obvious do nothing, um, obvious on their debut album, and by that I mean they take metallic sounds and do nothing at all that you might expect. This Finnish duo has found an undiscovered portal into the bizarre, and while you might recognize the elements at play here, you will not know the form they’re in on these songs. That’s for the best as something this unpredictable falling so late in the year is a gem to be discovered, a work that might lurk under the surface now but is bound to break the water as violently and unexpectedly as the band’s music.

For more on the band, go here: https://deathobvious-label.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here (U.S.): https://transcendingobscurity.aisamerch.com/

Or here: https://eu.tometal.com/

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

Old man time, yeah, so shut the fuck up. There was a time when heavy metal was basically one style, or at least a primary style with some offshoots. You knew it when you heard it, and it was awesome. It was music that you played as loudly as you could from your car and added a lot of juice to your Saturday nights. It was fucking cool even though I didn’t make it sound like that very well.

Indianapolis traditional metal band Sacred Leather are from that era. Not literally. They were not functioning as a band until, as early as we know, 2014. But their style and play are right smack in the sweet spot. Dokken, early Whitesnake, Judas Priest, early Def Leppard, as evidenced by their new record “Keep the Fire Burning.” That kind of thing. The band—vocalist Dee Wrathchild, guitarists Lynn St. Michaels (lead) and Cvon Owens (rhythm), bassist Magnus Legrand, drummer Don Diamond—masters the adventurous guitar work, the grit, the sky-high voice, the danger the earliest wave embodied, and no, there is no “and with an updated viewpoint” coming. This is all vintage, and no one should accept it any other way.

“Resurrection” is a fitting, steamy instrumental opener with glorious guitars rising into “Spitfire at Night” that is a total gas pedal stomper. The thing erupts, electricity exploding from every corner, a huge chorus Wrathchild sells huge, which is hardly an isolated instance. The energy peaks as the soloing tears into metal, the heat rising from there and only coming down after another raucous chorus. “Phantom Highway (Hell Is Comin’ Down)” drives hard with a vintage Priest feel, the singing blaring as the elements unload. The playing is fast and crunchy, adding to the whipping winds that brush burn your face, the chorus powering hard as the riffs pump more blood. “Wake Me Up” has the drums activating and the guitars melting before the pace is pulled back just a bit, Wrathchild showing off the lower register of his voice. But he hits the highs as well, guitars blaze with a fury, and then things cool, water dripping down your spine, humidity taking its toll on you. “Fallen Angel” has guitars zapping and the drums getting juices moving, deeper vocals adding a grittier texture, everything picking up as the chorus strikes. The soloing is fiery and channeled, and forces pushing and pulling for domination, the singing piercing flesh as the final moments rain down.

“Flatline” is an instrumental that opens with acoustics and some classical-style playing before everything ends in, you guessed it, a flatline. “Tears of My Heart” has heated leads and a slower-driving attack, feeling like a classic metal ballad but not in a sappy way at all. There’s a massive chorus and chugging guitars, the momentum picking up and slowing as the journey sees fit. Strong soloing bursts as the emotional tumult is achieved, the guitars chugging and burning amid the caterwaul. “Malevolent Eyes” is a little darker and sinister, guitars torching as Wrathchild’s vocals go into deeper water again. The chorus is moodier, and evil cackles remind of chaos, spurs embedded into the track, the playing smearing with power before subsiding. The title track has the drums launching and the playing going faster again, the singing hitting glimmering highs, a pulsating chorus following everything. Guitars dominate as the drums punish, Wrathchild’s banshee wails tearing through minds. Closer “Mistress of the Sun” starts clean, the singing cooling off the heated edges, the elements picking up and adding fuel to the growing fire. Leads smolder as the chorus chars, everything trudging harder and heavier, guitars blazing over an ending that reeks of vintage class.

Metal often isn’t made in the vein of Sacred Leather anymore, or at least it isn’t conjured this tried and true that it feels like it could have originated 40 years ago. Which is a good thing as far as “Keep the Fire Burning” is concerned. This feels like an album for open-highway driving, late-night beer sessions, or simply just enjoying the full-force power of heavy metal the way it was intended to sound in the first place. 

For more on the band, go here: https://sacredleather.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://wisebloodrecords.bandcamp.com/

Or here (U.S.): https://kingvolume.8merch.us/

Or here (International): https://wisebloodrecords.8merch.com/

Or here (International): https://kingvolume.8merch.com/

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

And here: https://www.kingvolume.com/

Every time black metal seems like it can’t evolve any further, we’re all proven wrong, and some band twists the DNA to an absurd level and creates something previously unheard of in this form. Or a band manages a way to make the subgenre a little more flexible and add some colors that normally aren’t seen in this setting.

New Orleans-based Burial Gift come to mind more in the latter example as they aren’t rewriting code or anything but are finding ways to keep this style more fertile and open. They released their “MMXXV” earlier this year on their own, but Eihwaz has risen from the ashes in the final month of the year to give this a proper physical release on cassette. The band—vocalist/guitarist Ty Hebert, guitarist Sam White, bassist Nathan Bergeron, drummer Alex Babineaux—is sinister and devastating enough, but adding some sludge elements as well as other sonic deviations make this release one that should snag your attention and keep it. I’m excited to hear what this band can do with a full-length release.

“Sear” blasts open, furious melodies spewing forth, guitars surging as the vocals are mean but also kind of catchy. The murmur boils into a gazey flow, guitars cascading downward before things rip open again. Chaos spills and erupts, screams detonate, and everything disintegrates into a mist. “Elegy Azure” opens with the drums blasting, blood rushing through veins, and a surging pace that loosens screws. The tempo gets thrashier as each element fills your mind, melodies washing over you. There’s a huge burst as the guitars overflow, drums blast, and the melodies explode, feeling fiery and effusive. The energy is impossible to defeat, overwhelming in the best way, finally exiting in a perfect blanket of feedback. “Hollow Bloom” ends things, guitars echoing as vile howls ripple, a cold front gathering before jarring you where you stand. Emotional melodies flood as things go cold, the bass buzzes, and a prog-style pathway is trampled, the active centerpoint making your heart race. Soloing melts into effusive energy and colors, electricity powering every corner, howls swarming before everything combusts.

Burial Gift may be new to some (I am one of them), but after taking on “MMXXV,” you’ll likely be an easy convert to the band’s brand of black metal and atmosphere. It’s not that they’re rewriting the style of music or anything, but they bring some intangibles and other powers to plaster to this artform that gives it a huge shot in the arm. This is but their first foray into what’s possible for Burial Gift, and their future creations will be awaited with great anticipation.

For more on the band, go here: https://burialgift1.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.eihwazrecordings.com/

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

It’s the time of the year when new releases aren’t as plentiful as other months, and revisiting music we missed along the way is a good way to play catch up. Look, we can’t get to everything (we can’t even get to most!), so things are bound to fly under the radar. Luckily, today’s release was brought to our attention by the band itself, and we’re glad they knocked.

Rochester, NY, death pounders Order of the Dead released their second full-length “Captives” back in June, and it’s a follow-up to 2018’s “The Jackals Hold Us Captive” as well as two other EPs in that time frame. What you find here is straight-forward death metal with some thrash tendencies as well as a channeled attack that rarely releases its grip on your neck. The band—vocalist Zach Barney, guitarists Earl Treese Jr and Jody Roberts, bassist John Malone, drummer Joe Lionti Jr—hails from a town with a nice death metal breeding ground that includes Undeath, Contrarian, and Blood Desecration, so they are adding a noteworthy and solid addition to that city’s blood output.

“Into Nothing” fades in before going for the throat, leads racing as howls smear, melodies basking in the glow of twin-guitar assaults. The tempo grows grim and harrowing, ravaging as guitars char, and the morbid adventure comes to an end. “A Black Curse Comes” charges in, vicious playing rippling, Barney wailing, “We’re reaping what we’ve sown!” The chorus is doused in black metal-style melodies while raw speed and even some thrashiness flexes muscles and blasts into oblivion. “Ritual Magick” smolders and smashes, the growls crushing as a relentless pace overpowers and tangles your brain wiring. The guitars race as the howls char, mashing bodies and bones, the words spat out in a poisonous clip. “Tetsu No Ame” is based on the 82-day World War II Battle of Okinawa, and the tension and hell is well represented. Guitars jab as the cries of, “Exterminate! Annihilate!” send chills down spines. Melodies gush even as “neverending hell on earth” spews forth, leads snaking, a strange warmth filling your guts before fading.

“Reaggravate” is the longest track at 8:09. and it boils while the bass plods, tearing open as the vocals scorch everything within their scope. The leads dart through fire, the power chugs, and electrifying soloing spills over and coats the marring shrieks. The pace mashes as guitars drive deeper into madness, trudging and demanding total submission. “Pit of Snakes” has speedy riffs and a jarring pace, the vocals scraping over congealing wounds, the playing bubbling to the surface. The leads get colorful and more adventurous, speeding up before a furious finish. “Illusions” blasts apart, techy riffs building, howls turning everything to dust just as the guitars become more illuminated. The strength guts as vitriol is poured on an already aggravated situation, start/stop mashing bruises, and the acid pours down the drain. Closer “A Grand Design” cites the Tower of Babel and the ensuing chaos, and they color that in with swimming guitars and shrieks tearing at limbs. Strong soloing blows down walls as the playing blazes even harder, powering the final moments that turn to ash.

Hey, we don’;t always get to every record that deserves attention during a calendar year, so it’s nice to give Order of the Dead’s “Captives” some glow as the year winds down. This is promising stuff, death metal that feels pretty modern but isn’t overly polished and still remembers to drop the fucking hammer. This band is on the right path, and with more records like this, they’re bound to be popping up in more feeds and on more shows as they continue to build their resume.

For more on the band, go here: https://orderofthedead322.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: https://orderofthedead322.bandcamp.com/album/captives