Pretty sure I’ve said this before, perhaps many times, but I cannot understand people who only can indulge in happy music or things devoid of any negativity. I can’t handle when I meet people like that in real life, and while I wish them no ill will, I just feel like I’m not around a genuine person. Frown for once!

I never have to worry about that with UK sludge/hardcore crushers Mastiff, and even an EP from them comes off as a goddamn miserable punch in the chest. That EP is “For All the Dead Dreams,” so you know right off the bat, you’re not going to be smiling at all. Unless it’s from morbid humor. Over five tracks and about 15 minutes, the band—vocalist Jim Hodge, guitarists Phil Johnson and James Lee-Ross, bassist Dan Dolby, drummer Mike Shepherd—totally pummels you, dragging you through tar containing glass shards, basking in self-deprecation, and leaving everything lying in a pile of ash.

“Soliloquy” immediately pounds away, a warped sample frying brain wiring, devastation then unloading with a hardcore boot to your chest. Guitars burn as the force gets more intense, Hodge wailing, “Bury me in a shit-filled grave,” which certainly puts an exclamation point at the end of this one. “Rotting Blossoms” floods with feedback, the pace launching as throaty wails bruise, the pace feeling downright skull mashing. “For all the dead dreams … the mass worship of this constant disgrace,” Hodge wails as sludgy heaviness buries you under the earth. “Decimated Graves” is burly and massive, the drums blasting as a beastly force slithers across the earth. Thick, destructive seismic waves rumble beneath you as the playing lays waste, slowly battering into submission. “A Story Behind Every Light” destroys, howls wrenching, guttural madness flattening as Hodge confesses, “Don’t rely on me, I can’t be trusted.” Heat swarms as the breakdown scars, blasting into oblivion. Closer “Corporeal” lashes with speed, the howls crushing as the drums powder bones into paste. An unforgiving force gallops, smearing blood, the wails punching holes before only ash remains.

“For All the Dead Dreams” is an absolute bloodbath in misery and misanthropy, five tracks that properly react with acidic anger and frustration over a world in authoritarian decay. Mastiff always bring the might, but this 15-minute burst ups the ante, leaving scorch marks behind. This is a fittingly volatile collection, one that will come off morbidly violent live and hopefully bridge to LP 3.

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

To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://deathwishinc.com/collections/church-road

Or here (Europe): https://www.deathwishinc.eu/collections/church-road

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

We talk about a lot of negative things on this site, and we’ve made it redundantly clear as to why that’s the case. But there can be positivity or at least a silver lining sometimes, because without that, it would just be doom all the time. No one can live that way. Bringing something brighter to the surface can be a great remedy to misery.

Belgian progressive post-metal band Psychonaut return with “World Maker,” their third album and their most varied and atmospheric to date. And it’s not that the entire record is awash in good feelings, because there is some despair woven in as the band laments ailing family members at a time of great joy and the welcoming of new life. But the band—guitarist/vocalist Stefan de Graef, bassist/vocalist Thomas Michiels, drummer Harm Peters—still manages to explode from the gates emotionally and takes you through lows that are more than balanced out by the shining highs. There is more variation to the music, more progressive waves, softer corners, and some well-placed thunder that fills this album with enough power to get your blood pumping.

The title track starts with keys glazing, dancing even, soft singing breezing as an image forms in your head. The playing pulsates, tension building as harmonized vocals numb, synth slicing into the fog. “Endless Currents” starts more aggressively before spindling, the singing soaring as the melodies follow suit. The chorus melts as the pace builds, and then vicious shrieks dash red across the clouds, the playing looping and jarring, ending in fire. “You Are the Sky” feels like it’s seeking though dark terrain, cries blistering as the playing rips, eventually growing more spacious. The tension pulls back a bit as the tempo jostles, keys woosh, and power bludgeons, singing and screaming uniting and forming animalistic partners. “Everything Else Is Just the Weather” enters into a deep, misty forest, airy prog and jazzy inflections coloring the edges, the singing soothing your nerves. Voices cry out wordlessly, the pace builds back up, and the peak suddenly dissolves into oblivion. “And You Came With Searing Light” has the guitars awakening and folding, spiraling through a daring chorus, thriving and meeting up with tormenting howls. The power smashes as the atmospheric pressure returns, clean and harsh singing tangling, hearts beating away.

“Origins” starts deeply percussively, synth swooping, eerie sentiment cooling your flesh. The guitars then take off and torch, power bursts through the clouds, and the drums blast, delivering a rousing end to this instrumental journey. “All In Time” feels rather Tool-ish rhythmically, the singing crawling, and then roars mashing and loosening bolts. The verses tend to be more serene while the chorus spills the fuel into the flames, the back end settling into sludge and devastation, coming to a propulsive end. “Stargazer” is slow driving, the howls carving, doomy thunder ringing out as the skies darken. Melodic singing slips in as the heat rises and begins to boil over, the playing toughening as wails wrench and draw blood. The guitars churn as smoke wafts, the shrieks plaster, and the tempo melts into a blur. “All Was Quiet” is a quick interlude with synth scraping, guitars folding, sitar stirring, and singing merging before the spirit fades. “Endless Erosion” closes many versions of the record, delivering chills as the guitars quiver, and howls ripple before the singing goes cleaner. The playing shifts into serenity, pulling you into a false sense of relief before the ground erupts again. Melodies sweep as the singing pulses, bringing a crushing new wave that ends everything in fury. Some versions have a remixed version of “Origins,” which is treated with different beats and echoes and feels like a slightly different animal.

“World Maker” is an album that revels in the highest of highs and the most gutting of lows, tangling with a volatile world also feeling like a more imposing factor. Psychonaut are a different machine here, grappling with life’s triumphs and tragedies and giving their music a more expansive feel. This is a record that has so many different things going on musically and emotionally that multiple visits aren’t just recommended, they’re mandatory. In a good way.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://pelagicrecords.indiemerch.com/

Or here (also U.S.): https://www.athousandarmsstore.com/collections/pelagicrecords

Or here (Europe): https://pelagic-records.com/webshop/

Or here (Australia): https://wildthingmusic.com/collections/pelagic-records

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

Encountering something that feels like it is mirroring similar feelings you’ve had inside, things you thought were unique to you, is quite the experience. Everything that shakes you inside or challenges you to try to overcome negative emotions seems so personal, so when you notice that elsewhere, especially in art, it can be a profound shift.

Pretty much from the start, “Grace of Departure” feels violently uneasy, like technically minded death explorers Aduanten are transferring their pain and frustration right into you. These four tracks don’t hold back, and while there also is a great amount of artistry on display here, there’s also just as much tumult. The band—guitarist Ciaran McCloskey, guitarist/synth player Michael Day, drummer/synth player/programmer Eoghan McCloskey—pours out its frustration over the decay and despair that have permeated a lot of lives, but they also save a moment to honor a fallen musician. This is a thunderous, exciting effort that really makes its mark.

“Cerulean Dream” starts with an atmospheric push before howls lash as if with a belt, immersive sounds surrounding as the rhythm section pounds. Energy spills as synth gusts and the wails dig under your ribs, the fury mounting before going clean and dissolving into a dream. “Decameron” has guitars liquifying into a moody fog, the vocals wrenching, desperate emotion arriving in waves. The guitars heat up and bustle as grainy power mars, the pace rushing and blending into darkness. The title track, which honors the late Nature Ganganbaigal from death/folk band Tengger Cavalry, opens with the drums activating and a progressive push showing new colors, guitars savaging as the howls aim for eye sockets. A great gust feels like it’s taking you under, guitars sweep and twist, and the vocals add a gale force attack that easily blows you backward. Closer “The Weakening Sovereign” has the drums rousing you awake, harsh wails leaving blistering, and then a black metal-style tidal wave overwhelms. The vocals turn more maniacal, guitars exploding and fluttering, a clean progression washing away streaks of blood and fading into oblivion.

“Grace of Departure” is a significant step forward for Aduanten, a band that mixes a nice variety of extreme sounds and dangerous edges into this enthralling EP. There is pain and despair that is apparent simply from absorbing the music, and then digging even deeper reveals more of that pain. From an homage to a fellow musician to a bloodletting on the tension building inside, this is an EP that, while short in stature, towers over you with its colossal spirit.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://namelessgraverecords.com/collections/nameless-grave-records-releases

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

Twisting together gore and creative tenacity into some kind of bizarre concoction is something not a lot of bands do expertly. Usually it’s one or the other, and there’s nothing wrong with that at all. But melding both worlds together is something to behold as it creates a tornadic force that is as violent as it is mind warping.

Aussie death metal power Vile Apparition show both terrifying imaginations and stunning musical prowess on their second record “Malignity,” their first in six years. It’s not like this is a new phenomenon for this band—vocalist/guitarist Jamie Colic, guitarist Jordan Fernand, bassist Noah Papworth, drummer Ollie Ballantyne—as they’ve shown a grasp for the grotesque and the brilliant at the same time. But this isn’t four guys showing off. Their skills are on full display but never become the story. Instead, they use their ability to make things more interesting, to add new spices into the blood-and-guts stew.

“Siphoning Life” opens with static snarling, the words of a serial killer sprawling, working into the first full track “Bloodletting” that bludgeons from the start. Howls mar, later mixing with piercing shrieks, the leads glimmering as the bass recoils. The pace drives and darts, the leads swimming into oblivion as the hammer drops viciously. “White Room Torture” ravages, beastly vocals flexing, the drums destroying and accelerating as manic ferocity. Guitars bend before forming a noxious cloud, and then all elements veer toward a strange spacey abyss. “A Canvas of Corpses” tears open, the drumming leaving you in the dust, throaty growls landing blows that combine with the electric assault. Guitars fire and twist as speed becomes a greater factor, injecting full intensity before vanishing. “Broken Minds” fires up immediately, growls crushing while guitars are churning, the brutality smearing with relentless precision. Growls and shrieks upend any sanity remaining while the guitars go off, illuminating a horrifying end. “Pulverised Dreams” is the biggest surprise, an instrument that opens with a flourish of classical acoustic guitar, strings aching, and fast picking reminding you they may deal with obscene horrors, but the fuckers can play, too.

“The Essence of Malignity” destroys from the start, brutality reigning as the vocals lay waste, destruction lurching across the land. The pace slows and chugs, letting the stench carry, and then things pick up in a hurry only to delve back into skull-dragging menace. “Castrated Gods” unloads, the lead scorch and take on rubbery flexibility, and then the heat multiplies, adding a smoldering finish on their insanity. Sooty growls choke as the pace pounds away mercilessly, everything coming to a blood-soaked end. “Thriving on Disease” explodes with tricky leads, tires chewing through the mud, and melodies spiraling and making the room spin. The devastation continue to mount, the soloing exploding and hurtling toward the stars, shifting back into spastic chaos that ends in a colorful sound warp. “Emulsifying Fleshpress” attacks right away, twisting limbs, compromising muscles, the growls buried into thick mud. The bass sprawls as the tempo comes unglued, crushing and thrashing, deliberately fading into a weird miasma. Closer “Decapitation Rites” is relentless, pulverizing right off the bat, the growls retching as the soloing takes command. The final half of the song is an effusive display of might, the pace punishing, howls strangling, and the guitars blazing into a final grave ensnared by cosmic echo. 

Vile Apparition have a strange mix of guttural terror and mind-blowing musicianship, and they manage to make both work in spades on “Malignity.” This record keeps warping and growing each listen, and there are so many interesting things packed between the layers of gore, that it might not seem apparent at first. This is a wrenching record that should amplify this band’s profile among death metal hordes if there is any justice in the world.

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

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

Or here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/shop/vile-apparition-malignity-lp/

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

And here: https://www.mesacounojo.com/

We’ve never not been in an age conformity, but now there is a government that is trying to make it law, so this is a little more extreme than what we’re used to enduring. There’s something to be said about taking you own path and not worrying what everyone else is doing. Individuality beats groupthink any day.

Emilio Rizzo had that in mind when creating “Resistant Spirit,” the new record from his Fuzznaut project. Over the course of seven years of existence, Fuzznaut created desert-like doom drone that permeates the senses and makes you see things in your head while you’re listening. The compositions here easily could be a major portion of a full-band production—any of his music could—but he uses his spirit and creativity alone over these eight tracks, turning them into their own beings that don’t need all the other elements to survive and thrive. It’s most infectious after sundown, perhaps after a drag, you know?

“Intro” brings glazing guitars, a spoken sample crackling, swimming in your brain and leading into the title track that feels properly dusty and desert dry to start. The aura gets ominous, psychedelic sentiment traveling your bloodstream, gathering and rising in spacey tension, total darkness swallowing stars. “Spacerock” is whirry and weird, guitars simmering into a gaseous cloud before a chugging pace mars your vision like smoke from burning tires. The dark fuzz grows thicker, sounds erode, and everything turns to the dirt as it fades. “Sufferlove” has a similar tone as what preceded it, acting as a nice stitch, guitars engulfing before the playing scrapes harder, working into downward spirals. Psyche shimmers blind as reflective silver shades illuminate, the playing toughening and merging with the sky, adding grey smears to the bright blue.

“Earbleeder” has riffs churning, the playing moving into shadows, doomy buzz overtaking the atmosphere. Numbing melodies emerge, Sabbathy riffs take the reins, and the back end of the track slips into hypnosis. “Defiant Prayer” hangs in echo, steely riffs reverberating, digging into morbid tones that make the surrounding air noticeably colder. Fuzz collects and the guitars brighten, paving an uneasy ambiance, the noise pounding away before dissolving into mystery. “Wind Doula” keeps the pressure on, guitars vibrating as rich playing pours sunshine into an already heated desert. You feel like you’re being baked, the Earth-like strains making you feel lightheaded, energy rippling out of that and shooting jolts of electricity. Closer “BRKN” is oddly reflective, even more than what preceded it, reverb simmering, the heat continuing to extend its grasp. Melody sticks as the mood grows spacier, guitars murmur, and the void envelopes faster than your brain has a chance to react.

Rizzo makes a lot out of minimalist parts on “Resistant Spirit,” a trait he has brought to all Fuzznaut creations. His plight to remain an individual in a sea of conformity shows he’s coming out on top, as this album easily could have plenty of other parts added to match the terrain, but it works gloriously as is. Bare bones, but not bare thoughts, less weight but more meaning, and another creation that can either ignite your fire or let it settle, depending on what your poor brain needs. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://fuzznaut.bandcamp.com/album/resistant-spirit

I made a comment on a pro wrestling social media site today, and the reaction I got was a bunch of boot-licking ass kissers who think their macho online presence makes up for brazenly excusing some of the worst human rights abuses and outright fascism in this country’s history. Which is saying something. Imagine publicly endorsing this. ON A PRO WRESTLING PAGE!

Portland, Ore., doom manglers Dispossessed see shit for what it is, and their new record “Dêmocide” battles back against fascist regimes, environmental horrors, atrocities being undertaken on other people, and systemic violence. There is no remaining quiet at the sight of horrors that seem to top themselves every day, and the four (technically five) tracks packed into this record feel like they’re frying the power structure in an acid bath. The band—vocalist M. Du Bose, guitarist M. White, guitarist/bassist K. Jewett, drummer L. MacDonald—lays waste, daring to strike back against a regime that would like to quash dissention and refusing to be anything but loud and bothersome.

“Exanimate” starts with bass chugging, sounds ringing out and massacring your ears, growls menacing as the guitars continue to swelter. The energy melts and smolders, the playing continuing to bring heat, doom bubbling like oil, scorching you and creating toxic fumes. The battering renews as growls smother and riffs burn, a sorrowful murk hanging over everything, sounds sailing off into misery. “Concrete Tomb” opens with growls retching, the pace ravaging as it moves like a beast, growls circling as the leads swagger. The churning becomes insurmountable, guitars adding pressure, the final moments choked out by frustration and fury.

“Opulent Doom” belts with shrieks and punchy guitars, acidic melodies eating away at flesh, the drums devastating as the power corrodes. The vocals throttle as the pace grinds, and then the screams that follow feel particularly morbid. The energy turns around as infernal gusts punish, and the final moments burn off into exhaust. “Watan/If I Must Die” technically are listed as two tracks, but they act as one mammoth force, the bass spilling tar, guitars marring as power pummels. The growls warp over a bruising tempo, dragging you through hell before a brief respite lets you catch your breath. Sounds buzz as if emitted from a dank basement while howls boil in echo, guitars liquify, and the final moments lurch into an unforgiving oblivion.

Dispossessed’s commitment to crushing fascism and lashing back at powers of oppression act as a fucking warhammer on “Dêmocide.” The music is a galvanizing statement conveyed by earth-crushing doom and death that feels grimy and devastating, the exact type of response you wish people who could do something about this would muster. This is a massive strike back, and while it might not change the tide, it’s heartening to know something so ugly could stand for righteousness. 

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

To buy the album, go here: https://carbonizedrecords.merchtable.com/?

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

It’s easy to hide when the tides get too strong, when it feels like they’ll crash down on us and bury our voices forever. And make no mistake, there are plenty of forces out there that would like to do just that. But bravery is saying no in the face of fear, and history tells us tyranny always falls, so while our chips may be down now, it won’t be that way forever.

Dutch black metal firepower Terzij de Horde are living the same reality as you and I, and on their thunderous new record “Our Breath Is Not Ours Alone” (a line drawn from German sociologist Hartmut Rosa), they break through the barriers trying to hold us back. The band—vocalist Joost Vervoort, guitarists Demian Snel and Jelle Agema, bassist Johan van Hattum, drummer Richard Japenga—is on fire from the start, blending black metal and even some hardcore strains, pouring their emotion and determination all over these seven tracks that burst with energy. This is defiance and resilience blazing heavily, taking you with them as they trample the power structure. 

“Each Breath Is a Flame” sets the tone early, blazing out of nowhere as guitars fire up and simmer, feedback chokes, and righteous wails blend into “Raise Them Towards the Sun” that is raucous and punishing. Wails scar as black metal-style melodies let lava flow, a snarling force slashing into the side of the earth. Leads blaze and then glaze, bursting open at the seams, channeling a beastly attack that rampages to the end. “The Shadows of Prefiguration” races as the guitars hail blackness, their combined force pummeling as the temperatures skyrocket. Raspy wails snaps as a violent gust takes control, everything picking up the pace to dangerous levels. “They’ll never forget us again!”  Vervoort continually howls as the final moments act as a powder keg of revolt.

“A Hammer to the Great Matter of Birth and Death” hangs in the air before destruction comes, nasty howls and hammering guitars forming an impenetrable force, The playing is muscular and hangs on bones, growing hypnotic for a stretch, and then launching a ferocious assault that spatters colors. “The All-Consuming Work of the Soul’s Foreclosing” has strings glazing and howls wrenching, melodic smoke darkening the air, the drums blistering and leaving marks. The pace picks up the speed as the howls destroy, everything coming to a blinding finish. “Justice Is Not Enough to Leave the House of Modernity” starts reflective before the emotion spurts,  Vervoort calling, “We must leave this house!” Guitars infect before tightening their grip, hearts bleed fresh blood, and the howls pulse, leading the momentum into a righteous show of rage. Closer “Discarding All Adornments” brings boiling guitars and a hefty pace, steaming and flattering, the guitars spiraling into oblivion. The pace calms as Amelia Baker of Cinder Well speaks over the fog, declaring, “We await our rebirth to the light of the morningstar.” The pace engulfs, mauling and battering, the wails punishing, everything storming before bowing out to an elegant sheen.

Terzij de Horde have an uncanny ability to get your blood flowing and fists raised in defiance like they do on “Our Breath Is Not Ours Alone,” a record that answers the times as leadership globally doesn’t seem to care to do so. This is a record that, even if you choose to ignore the lyrical content, will light your guts on fire. It’s inescapable. But if you’re also feeling lost and wondering how to carry on, perhaps this will help you light your own torch of defiance to hold aloft against chaos.

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

To buy the album, go here (U.S.): https://deathwishinc.com/collections/church-road

Or here (Europe): https://www.deathwishinc.eu/collections/church-road

Or here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/

Or here: https://shop.tartarusrecords.com/product/terzij-de-horde-our-breath-is-not-ours-alone/

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

And here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/

And here: https://tartarusrecords.bandcamp.com/

It’s great to see more fantasy elements returning to metal, and I realize that it never actually went away. It just seemed for the longest time that any artists of this ilk were off on their own corner while everyone was trying their best to be heavier and more brutal than the rest. Metal can be the best form of escapism, and it feels like that’s coming back in full force.

Morke is one of those bands, a one-person project helmed by Eric Wing, and the latest album under that banner, “To Carry On,” keeps the castle metal focus strong as ever. Over nine tracks, Wing (joined by session drummer CJ Yacoub) blasts into Medieval times, making it feel like you should be leaping on a horse with a goddamn sword looking to defend the village folk. Sure, that’s in your mind, but again, escapism. You’ve kept up with current events, yes? What better time than now to indulge in a record that can take you away from all of that and give you an adventure to keep you sane. This delivers that in spades. By the way, the mighty Tanner Anderson (of the like-minded Obsequiae and also Crypt Sermon and Majesties among others) adds guest guitars and vocals, which makes all the sense in the world.

“Sublymed Respair” has guitars washing in, echoing as howls pierce, the speed taking control quickly. Shrieks fire as the guitars soar and float, the melodies flooding the senses, loons calling out at the end. “Falling Leaves” opens with glorious melodies, a ravaging pace, and screams blasting you right in the chest, the power blazing heavily. The guitars pour fuel on the fire as catchy power overwhelms, the spirit feeling like it’s storming the gates for a mighty defense. “Ashes of Feudalism” has leads liquifying rock, vicious howls rippling, the drums picking up and carrying the swarm. The tension continues to spread, howls stinging as the leads glow, swimming in and out of a rushing stream. “Myne Owne Hertis Rote” rushes forward, the shrieks scorching, the center exploding and delivering melodic heat. The playing calms before slicing back in again, the riffs raising spirits, and a mesmerizing pace taking over and bleeding into oblivion.

“Coup D’oeil” has the guitars circling the wagons, churning and spitting smoke, a tornadic pattern taking over and threatening. Warmer tones then waft before the fires spread, the playing loops, and everything disappears into the flames. “Viola Odorata” rouses with guitars mangling, the drums rattling, and melodies gusting, devastating the ground. The energy jars as spirits rise and run amongst us, ending this instrumental piece on a jarring note. “Crystalline Firmament” has a classic metal feel, the riffs flowing, shrieks twisting muscle as the humidity thickens. The drums punish as the guitars surge, the pace shaking the earth, floating off into oblivion. “Wisterian Arbor” has blazing guitars and churning howls, the drums shaking loose any cobwebs, the melodies bending through the ages. Shrieks flood as temperate leads surround, melting into trickling water. The closing title track fires up right away, the vocals wrestling you to the dirt, the riffs encircling and causing dizziness. A hazy lull gives you a breather before the pace ignites one final time, the shrieks peel away at ivy towers, and everything dissolves into echo.

“To Carry On” is a step up in the metal world for Morke, and anyone who likes their metal equal parts fantasy and skullduggery surely will find a lot to like here. At times, the riffs blend together a little simply because they’re channeling the same spirit, but subsequent listens help those layers split a little better. It’s another strong entry from this project that continually shows its strength in emotion, heart, and properly archaic melodies. The album calls for us to answer a bell that takes courage to face, to not back down against a force of shallow leaders disguised as a house of cards.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://truecultrecords.bandcamp.com/album/to-carry-on

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

Darkness hangs over everything. Every day feels like a different means for self-torture, or you can ignore everything that’s going on and pretend all is OK. Pain has become a regular presence in our lives, and we’ve seen people we love go away and even of ways of live be under constant threat. How can one not lash out?

Josh Hines, the artist behind black metal beast Starer, is choosing to express his frustration in a productive way through his art. The project’s new full-length “Ancient Monuments and Modern Sadness” is one of the most obviously agitated to date on the surface and deep in its guts. It’s a punishing, storming, chaotic adventure through tumult, loss, longing, and lingering pieces of the past. It hammers from the first moment, continues its onslaught, and never takes its foot off your throat until the final second. All Starer music has been captivating, but this one is the next level in intensity.

“I Cry Your Mother’s Blood” rushes at you, leads gushing as Hines’ shrieks separate flesh from ribs, the storming force only gathering in strength. The title is shrieked over a verse, and its intent darkens you, the savagery crushing before a glimmering end. “Il-Kantilena” blasts in, the vocals wrenching, the playing melting into cold tributaries before the temps rise suddenly. Guitars slash with violence, an atmospheric pocket joins and rains ice blades, and the shrieks mangle, everything consumed by mist. “The Field of Reeds” has sweltering riffs that smother, a chugging, thrashing pace that makes your adrenaline pump, and a force that breaks wills. The playing turns sinewy, synth basking over frigidity, regal chaos spreading and succumbing to devastating strikes. “Immortality of Writers” opens with guitars hovering like a darkened cloud, synth lightening, and then a tornadic pace opening its jaws to consume. Beastly wails strike as the playing bends and warps, melody gliding and swarming, stirring into a blaring finish.

“So, You Traitor” starts with the bass coiling, darker guitars dripping ashy moisture, and then a black metal gust dislodging the foundation. The fury bellows as guitars sting, mangling relentlessness rushing before mesmerizing. “In the Place of Truth” slips in, guitars melting as synth lasers lather, fog accumulating before clouds open and drench. The vocals crush as the playing lets freezing air chill your flesh, slipping into mystery as shrieks blur reality, and immersive power causes pressure that nearly claims your consciousness. “Song of the Harper” lures you in with guitars creating pathways, howls snarling, and then the tempo cooling a bit, letting your wounds have a moment for repair. But it’s not long before the gates are torn down, the howls consume, and the synth clouds your mind, blackness spilling into your soul. Closer “Lie Around My Neck” runs 10:37 and makes good use of every moment, guitars echoing as the shrieks rain, drama accumulating and making your heart race. Clean signing adds a different element, synth pumps and creates majesty, and everything surges and pulls in exciting new directions. Chimes echo as it feels like the cosmos is surrounding you, steely riffs vibrate, the singing flows into synth pockets, and reverberations heads off into the stars, you pulled from your dream by a dog barking. Perfect way to end any record!

“Ancient Monuments and Modern Sadness” is another explosive chapter of Starer lore that is punishing and spellbinding, each track leading you into the next chapter seamlessly, your emotions running on high. In a world swamped with black metal, it’s hard to sift the waters for the really good stuff, which Starer is for sure. This is a thunderous, volcanic album musically and emotionally, and its force can be felt well after the final second of music has expired.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://starer.bandcamp.com/album/ancient-monuments-and-modern-sadness-2

Or here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/

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

And here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/

We’ve talked a lot the past few weeks about bands making changes to their sound and approach and how the results can go many different ways as a result. When it works, it can reinvent a band or artist, giving them an entirely new focus, a way to pull out elements of their creativity they perhaps didn’t consider before.

Portland, Ore., power Coastlands is one of those that decided not to stay cemented in a corner and found fruitful expression beyond that as their new self-titled album proves. I follow the band on TikTok, and their posts the last year seemed to indicate more atmospheric ideas were afoot, but even that didn’t fully prepare me for these nine tracks and 36 minutes on the dot. The band—guitarist/synth player/vocalist Jason Sissoyev, bassist/vocalist Andy Ramirez, drummer Trent McIntyre—remains rooted in heaviness and power, but they add imaginative compositions and spacey pathways that makes the harder parts hit even more forcefully. It took a couple listens to fully get used to the new alterations, but now that I’m immersed, I’m fully engaged in where Coastlands have gone and hopefully are going next.

“See” dawns in blurry noise, hushed vocals trickling, synth adding a spacey feel. The melodies get further detached, acoustics strumming, the sounds squirming away. “Hollowing” melts, and then the power levels, the call of, “All good things will go away,” feeling a little close to home. The pace gets more explosive, even with gentler strains working through them, and then the drums pounds, the keys encircle, and savage howls ripple through the earth. “Mors” starts with chatter before the playing arrives slowly, crashing into a melodic fog, the keys smearing light and haunting. Sounds flow and warp, the chatter continuing into the background, washing into “Vessels” that immediately begins to punish. The playing chugs as vicious screams scorch, energy gusting as the guitars fire, and the riveting drumming bruises. The bass flexes as sounds simmer, the singing numbing as the cosmic  pressure builds, roars tearing into the distance.

“Porous” has the synth spreading like sunlight, the singing soothing, the drums kicking in before shrieks splinter in the sky. The playing swims in the distance, wails belting, “I never know,” over and over into oblivion. “Feeding” starts with the playing gusting, softer singing merging as the drums crash, clouds filling the sky. The pace gets punchier before biting down, the singing feeling numbing before disappearing into the stars. “Tied” explodes with driving force, the singing slinking, jarring and buzzing as things get more pillowy. The drums begin to spray as the screams maul, singing coming in behind it, the tension tightening as passion crests. “Neverhere” stars with sounds blurring, the singing echoing as the noise gnaws, spitting waves of static. A choral sheen slips in, the beats rattle, and the energy flows fully before fading. Closer “Drugblood” (has to be a “What We Do in the Shadows” reference) blisters and infuses air, chugging as guitars churn, burning as drums spatter. Melodies gush as shrieks rain down, the fireworks rippling through the atmosphere, hitting blazing highs that rocket blood through your veins. The exuberant, “Yeah, buddy!” heard in the background lets you know they knew they nailed it.

Coastlands emerge a completely different animal on this self-titled album, a fitting title considering this is sort of a rebirth. They haven’t left their heaviness behind and instead found different textures and wrinkles to make the bursts even more impactful. It’s also a record you can put on and let it carry you away somewhere, perhaps to worlds or dimensions previously unrevealed to you.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://translationloss.com/collections/coastlands

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