The world is a dark and horrible place, and anyone who thinks differently clearly isn’t paying attention or is willfully ignorant to the truth. We live in a hellscape that likely is going to get worse. Oppression is on the rise, hatred is seen as a quality to get elected, and respect and protection for people different from the majority is eroding at an alarming rate. Survival has become a deadly game for so many.

Detroit black metal/doom crushers Fell Ruin surely have seen the erosion in their own backyards, and they use their second record “Cast in Oil the Dressed Wrought” as a sort of memoir for a character trying to survive in what’s become an increasingly hostile world. The band—vocalist/synth player Brian Sheehan, guitarist/synth player Robert Radtke, bassist Jeff McMullen, drummer August Krueger—deliver a six-track destroyer that is heavy, bleak, and bruising. It’s a record that aligns with anyone feeling the same type of misery but also reminds that positivity is a losing game, and there is so much more to endure before we can even imagine brighter days. Reality sucks, and this album is a reminder.

“Fixation” opens the record and is a quick, synth-driven intro track setting the ambiance for what comes next, which most directly is the title track that immediately ravages from the word go. The pace has moments where it slows and lets the burn really get inside of you, but mostly you’re being fully battered as weird guitar lines slash, the playing boils in hell, and a brief gasp of solemnity dives right back into churning power. The bass chews, the howls pummel, and the fog claims everything. “Stain the Field” blisters as the vocals cave chests, dark and foreboding melodies rushing and snaking. Foreboding winds blow as the playing gets more intense, giving off strange vibes that encircle, the guitars knifing toward you dangerously, washing out with pools of blackening blood.

“Patronage of the Gutted Man” is another quick instrumental cut, sprinkling folkish melodies and gentler guitars, slowly trickling toward “The Burning Spire” that tears open and lets the drums mount a complete assault. The playing trudges and splits skulls as the vocals burst, and the guitars tremble, leaving you shaking uncontrollably. Detached speaking makes you feel extra uncomfortable as the growls corrode, the playing thrashes and burns, and the knives coming at you at weird angles finally relent as the end is fully smothered. Closer “Sightless Amongst the Weavers” dawns in a cloud of strange synth that wafts, and then the growls splatter, and psychedelic drops get into your skin and make you see visions. Cavernous power engulfs as the playing mars, coming apart and powdering bones. The riffs ignite and make seismic waves, the devastation multiplies, and everything spirals out, resting forever in a static bed.

“Cast in Oil the Dressed Wrought” is immersed in the horrors of the world, a place where our comfort gets further away from us by the moment. Fell Voices treat this reality with harrowing, hypnotic and doomy black metal that tortures your soul and pushes your psyche to its limits. This is a massive statement that is a sobering reminder of the hell that surrounds us and that music like this is here to be a partner in that shared torture.  

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

To buy the album, go here: https://shop.tartarusrecords.com/product/fell-ruin-cast-in-oil-the-dressed-wrought/

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

You know that whole “there are only two certainties in life: death and taxes” thing? Well, it’s wrong. There’s a third. Darkthrone will return every few years with another record that isn’t a callback to their black metal roots that’ll continually annoy the so-called purists. But for the rest of us, it’ll be a joy in a life of constant pain, a lifeline from metal’s roots that always seems ready to nourish.

Yes, we have a new Darkthrone platter called “Astral Fortress,” and yes, it’s a fucking great time. The duo of guitarist/bassist/vocalist Nocturno Culto and everyone’s favorite metal lifer/cool uncle drummer/vocalist Fenriz are back to spread more metallic tidings, this time with seven tracks over 40 minutes. This follow-up to last year’s “Eternal Hails……” and 19^th full-length overall definitely sounds like the Darkthrone we’ve come to know the past decade or so, but they always have some new twists and turns that leave you guessing. They label themselves “old metal,” and that’s a pretty good descriptor as they traverse the genre’s history, grab components from their lifelong journey, and color it with 2022 vibes. They’re as reliable as one can get from any metal band, and while this won’t satisfy everyone, you have to either be a miserable bastard or just too set in your ways not to smile a whole fucking lot listening to this.

“Caravan of Broken Ghosts” starts not with a gust but acoustically, giving a slow burn before things starts to scrape, the humidity increasing and barreling toward you. The guys then start thrashing, firing up and bringing heavy lumber, defying all times and eras. Darker riffs emerge, the vocals are gruff and grisly, and the final churns eat into the earth. “Impeccable Caverns of Satan” delivers strong riffs and Nocturno Culto’s unmistakable howls, the ominous tones getting into your blood. Guitars trudge and then take on a glorious sheen before the playing gets dirtier, mashing your fingers and stretching your muscles before dissolving into thin air. “Stalagmite Necklace” lights up the guitars, brings strange and hovering synth, and devious and echoey playing makes your flesh crawl. “You cannot see the forest for the fear,” Fenriz howls, “I see you with your stalagmite necklace,” sometimes sounding like Tom G. Warrior. The murk thickens as the doom lands, pummeling before burning out.

“The Sea Beneath the Seas of the Sea” is the longest track, running 10:10 and unloading psychedelic guitars that help the ambiance get more intense. Vocals mar as the playing chugs with a filthy underbelly, the steady playing keeping the blood flowing as the howl of, “Drying out in the caves of apathy while I am the sea beneath the seas of the sea,” jolts you to your core. Mesmerizing thrashing makes its presence felt, the leads smear, and a huge, raucous finish melts everything to goo. “Kevorkian Times” opens with sooty riffs and vocals that feel like they’ve rolled around in the dirt, speeding up later and jolting your bones. Darkening swirls add immersive shadows, sinking you in dark waters before washing away. “Kolbotn, West of the Vast Forests” is an instrumental piece with chimes, chants, and odd strings, adding an eerie aura that leads into closer “Eon 2” that responds with charging riffs. Everything soars as classic guitar work makes you feel the pit of nostalgia, the vocals creak into a lush acoustic bed, and manic energy fills your every pore. The energy charges and takes you with it, finally letting you breathe a little, ending in a pocket of warmth.

There are plenty of things you can expect from a Darkthrone record—boundless energy, the love of every era of heavy metal, the frosty gasp of wintry winds—but they always have a few surprises up their sleeves as they do on “Astral Fortress.” Likely those who expected black metal from this duo every time long have fucked off, and they’re not missed as Darkthrone keep releasing fully enjoyable and honest slabs of “old metal” that feel tried and true. This is as true an expression of heavy metal one is going to find, and leave it to the trusty Darkthrone institution to satisfy all over again.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://peaceville.merchnow.com/catalogs/Darkthrone

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

Doing a site that reviews a handful of records each week might not seem like that tough of a thing to do, and honestly there are harder jobs out there. We’re not exactly saving lives. But we live in shitty times where fascism is on the rise, we’re somehow still dealing with rampant antisemitism, and finding bands and labels you can truly trust is exhausting and involves more research than it should.

So, when we find a label like Fiadh Productions, it makes what we do a whole lot easier. Not only is the female-owned label steadfast in their stance against fascism and supports animal rights, they also put out killer music in physical and digital form you can trust isn’t made by shitheads. It’s hard for a site like mine with one dummy doing everything to capture everything Fiadh is putting out and already has released (Cherry Cordial are a delight; the Book of Sand’s “Occult Anarchist Propaganda” vinyl reissue is essential as is their new album that we covered Friday; Petricor make rousing black metal), but we present a few of their November releases we really liked in capsule form as well as some notes on other stuff that’s available. Fiadh already has informed me there’s another swarm of stuff coming, so I’m very excited to hear that and give you another roundup when the time is right.

Agriculture is a four-piece black metal band from Los Angeles, and their “The Circle Chant” is a fairly compact collection of four tracks that give you a taste of what the band does well. Yes, of course, black metal is so prevalent in heavy music that it’s not always the easiest to sift out the trash, but Agriculture certainly are in the group of those that adhere to the roots but push into places others fear to tread. Take for example the storming title track that starts the collection that then pushes into “Salt” that features lush singing and harmonizing, sounding like something you’d hear coming off a misty mountain hike. “The Circle Chant Pt II” that closes the collection even features some honey-thick pedal steel that veers into country terrain, giving this blast of black metal a proper sunburn.  

For more on the band, go here: https://agriculturemusic.bandcamp.com/album/the-circle-chant

The band supports: https://www.myfriendsplace.org/

Just a couple weeks ago, one-woman black metal project Vega didn’t even have a social media profile at all. Now, there’s an Instagram account, and the woman behind the five-track debut EP “Reliquia,” Vega Shaker, has explained the power behind this jarring effort combines her desire to move forward with her life and the struggle to make sense of a past that wasn’t always comforting. The songs on here revel in black metal horror but also trade off with gothy tendencies and delicacy not often experienced in this style of music. It feels very personal even before knowing what the music is about, and you can feel the exploration and the pain drip through this entire thing. It’s emotional, intense, vicious, and vulnerable, the first step on what could be a fascinating project to watch and hear develop.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.instagram.com/vega_bm_official/

Finland hasn’t come at us with the most reliable of bands when it comes to battling against fascism, but raw vampiric black metal force Sanguinaria make it very clear right up front they do not tolerate that bullshit with their “Fuck NSBM. No tolerance for nazis and nazi sympathizers,” greeting on their Facebook page. So, we already had love in our heart for this bizarre band for that reason, and their seven-track debut offering was something we looked forward to devouring in full. And what an experience it is with some of the strangest guitar playing, warped melodies, and mystical fury, sometimes even packing a punk rock edge to their chaos. The songs are mangling, exciting, chaotic, obscured in noise, and a tremendous blast right to your chest that robs you off your breath.  

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

Montana isn’t exactly a hotbed for heavy metal, but Uamh potentially could change that with “Ràithean,” their second EP overall and this year. Over two lengthy tracks, the one-man project helmed by Urisk Uaine (guests musicians add tin whistle and harp) stretches into stormy, glorious black metal that feels like it’s rampaging over the horizon, situated in the heart of a storm that’s growing more intense by the moment. The music is angling to express what’s it’s like to witness the changing of the seasons in Montana, something I’ve never witnessed, so I can only take for granted the feelings conveyed here. But I definitely got something in my gut that made me think of the natural cycles here in my home state. So, I guess I got it. The music provides electricity, driving energy, and waters rushing, chilling you thoroughly and letting the soil entomb you for good.

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

The band supports: https://www.niwrc.org/

There also are recordings from Connecticut black metal force This White Mountain with “A Plague Upon the Earth” (we covered their “The Final Sorrow” earlier this year); Scottish dungeon synth force Abyssal Slumber with their “Demo I” that’s a strange and mysterious adventure; and Scottish black metal crushers Dorchadas and their slashing “Aon.” All are more than worth your time, and as noted, many of the bands support great causes.

To buy all of these releases, go to: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/

Having the honor of writing up Book of Sand’s new album “Seven Candles for an Empty Altar” is one thing, and its insane mix of black metal, strange experimentation, and overall discomfort has provided me hours of torment. The other thing is today, we present the actual music itself, this seven-track, 63-minute excursion into psychosis and punishment, one of the most warped black metal albums released by anyone this year. We’re not going to talk your ear off. You can read our review at the link below, but find out for yourself what this music means to you and how affected you are when it’s all over. Thanks immensely to Fiadh Productions for trusting us with this stream.

To read our review, go here: https://meatmeadmetal.com/2022/10/28/pick-of-the-week-book-of-sands-approach-to-black-metal-alters-on-mind-melting-seven-candles/

Fiadh has a slew of other releases, a really diverse offering that touches on many areas of metal and heavy music. We’ll have a roundup of those coming up tomorrow.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/book.of.sand

To buy the album, go here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/album/seven-candles-for-an-empty-altar

For more on the label and to buy the rest of the releases, go here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/

Black metal is a strange and often repetitive style of music, as much as we still enjoy it and sink lots of money into those types of records. I guess we can blame oversaturation of the sound, which applies to many different types of metal, and the difficulty cutting through a lot of that to find the artists who are defying convention and logic, violating all the alleged rules and frames of mind.

Book of Sand long strayed away from the expected and even the comfortable over the course of eight full-length records that have challenged and twisted brains into mush. Yet, on the project’s ninth album “Seven Candles for an Empty Altar,” sole creator dcrf finds inventive and complicated ways to deform black metal and create an entirely different beast that—WARNING!—almost assuredly won’t go down easily. Yes, the bulk of this seven-track, 63-minute opus is grimy and mangling black metal, but there are passages where you’ll forget where you are. You’ll find yourself wandering a blackened garden, stumbling over melted blacktop, and trying to take an inventory of your mental capacity. It also should be pointed out dcrf and Book of Sand are antifascist comrades squarely in the RABM circle and lashing back against the forces of oppression. Yet another reason to support Book of Sand fully.  

Opener “Speak in Tongues of the Dead” runs 10:54, and the first chunk of the song has piano driving and stirring, for at least a stretch making it seem like the entire track is a dirge in this nature. About halfway through, the track rips open, dcrf’s howls reverberating, and the playing jolts your skeletal structure. That’s all while strange transmissions char and destroy, battering your psyche. The playing swims in a whirlwind, shrieks punish, and cosmic frying shorts your circuit board. “Soft Sun on Silent Water” opens with somber black metal riffs and the vocals burning, slicing into your brain. Blinding chaos rides hard as the vocals strangle, the playing cascades, and doomy clouds get even darker as mournful sax boils in the background. “Without the Limits of Power” brings tangling guitars that repeat for the first three minutes or so, letting its hypnotic energy spread, and then stiff punches land as the shrieks surface. The playing storms hard as dcrf lets his wild vocals take hold, the playing slashes tornadically, and we’re back to our minds being melted, the energy fading into the shadows.

“Kyrie” delivers abrasive noise and organs flooding, giving off a pastoral vibe before the pressure increases and crushes. The shrieks corrode while unhinged horns trample the ground, the gates exploding and letting rivers of blood rush through. A brief halts lets you catch your breath, and horns return, cataclysm multiplies, and the power sizzles away. “The Realization of Unclear Dreams” is the longest track at 13:51, beginning with horns sweltering, organs rising, and about 5 minutes in, the black metal assault launches in full. The playing is foggy and doomy, and the intensity pulls back and forth, subsiding at times, lashing back with virulence at others. Synth zaps as screeches lace your senses, and the playing gets dizzying and nauseous, spiraling and punishing before being swallowed whole by the cosmos. “6” is haunting and stinging, combining steady drumming with acoustics and chilling winds that make you shiver. The instrumentation reeks of endless darkness, notes chiming out, elegance stretching then dissolving. Closer “A New World Waits in the Soil” is a healthy 10:36 and immediately pummels with vicious riffs and charging shrieks, the doomy ambiance encircling. Cries rattle off the walls, and the melodies begin to feel imminently apocalyptic, the dense weather front menacing from above. Spacey swirls add even more imagination to the formula, your heads fills with chaos, and the playing burrows into the ground, disappearing into the soil forever.

Book of Sand traverse terrain so many other artists fear to tread, because accessibility and comfort are elements not even considered, and pure expression of black metal chaos always is at the forefront. “Seven Candles for an Empty Altar” takes things further than ever for this project, adding different instrumentation and atmospheres to the music and creating something exciting yet shocking to even those who have been with this band since the start. This is ambitious, dark, and devastating, a record that’ll scar you from listen one and change your perception of what is possible when creating the darkest of arts.

Fiadh has a slew of other releases, a really diverse offering that touches on many areas of metal and heavy music. We’ll have a roundup of those coming up Tuesday.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/book.of.sand

To buy the album, go here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/album/seven-candles-for-an-empty-altar

For more on the label and to buy the rest of the releases, go here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/

The pandemic had mostly negative impacts on people, and how could it not since it caused so much pain, isolation, and fear? But there were those who used the time to their advantage and tried to grow and change. Some took on new career paths, new interests, new hobbies and perhaps shaped their lives differently and expanded on their knowledge base.

As for German prog death/doom band Disillusion, they had their normal lives of being a touring band taken from them. Certainly, they were not alone in that category, so they used the time where touring wasn’t possible to work on their sound and used that to craft “Ayam,” their tremendous new record. For this album, the band—vocalist/guitarist Andy Schmidt, guitarist Ben Haugg, bassist/backing vocalist Robby Kranz, drummer Martin Schulz (Sebastian Hupfer also played guitar on the record)—is joined by other musicians in Birgit Horn (trumpet, flugelhorn), Clara Glas (cello), Frederic Ruckert (keyboard), and Marek Stefula (triangle) to flesh out these eight tracks and deliver some of the most atmospheric, emotional, and devastating of their run, which truly pays off the renewed focus they were awarded. This is a document that might not exist had it not been for that period of time, and it’s clear from the first visit with this record that the extra attention paid off.

“Am Abgrund” is the 11:21-long opener, dawning in mystical waters, clean warbled vocals meeting up with the crunch moments later. “From the top of the world to the end of the sea,” Schmidt calls as the guitars surge, and the stormy mood gets even more immersive. Acoustics sweep in, cutting into the energy, creaking through the murk as Schmidt wails, “I would like to believe I’m stronger than this,” as the guitars blaze. Gothy doom pumps as sounds liquify, the keys and quiet singing draining away. “Tormento” opens with gentle, breezy singing wafting as the playing jars, and maniacal vocals take over and drain blood. The playing punishes and sweeps, hitting new heights before briefly disappearing into shadows. A doomy push emerges, guttural hell erupts, and the smoke chokes out your lights. “Driftwood” swims in acoustics and delicate singing before gothy thunder strikes, and the melodies trudge and bloody mouths. Leads stretch as the guitars take control, gushing and pushing into dreamy sequences, numbing before slipping into the fog. “Abide the Storm” is the longest track, running 11:51 and churning and punishing right off the bat, the vocals defacing. Gruff shouts and building heat combine, horns pump, and softer playing and proggy thunder take hold, Schmidt wondering, “Where do we belong?” Repeat calls of, “The calm before the storm,” churn in your mind, the playing chugs, and everything comes to a disruptive end.

“Longhope” opens in keys and guitars digging into the ground, Schmidt’s vocals sending cool breezes and strange vibes. The emotion sweeps as the track tears open, the cloud cover thickens, and Schmidt reasons, “We are what we see,” just as the fires are stoked more heavily. The vocals punch, the playing busts, and everything slips into cold waters. “Nine Days” is moody and brings aching guitars, clean singing making the mist in front of you thicken. “You shall never reach the open sea,” Schmidt warns as the electricity jolts, and danger builds, and Schmidt finishes with, “No one knows my dreams tonight.” “From the Embers” slips in with quiet keys that entrance before the explosive pressure breaks, dark singing making the spirits around you come to life. Water laps as soulful calls chill, the guitars taking over and making energy charge through you, soaring with emotions and soothing energy that drains away. Closer “The Brook” wells up and makes blood rush to your face, moving delicately through dark waters and mystical wonders. Later, the playing engulfs, energy spitting fire, the power surging, and then the singing swells all over again. The playing takes jabs at your chest, ghostly echoes penetrate, and everything dissolves into the background.

Disillusion continue to progress a quarter century into their run, once again finding ways to devastate and compel on “Ayam,” one of their most full-bodied records so far. It’s emotional and moody for sure, and the heaviness and thorny playing make for more explosive elements that can torch your flesh and psyche at the same time. The strange mysteries built into the music keep your mind working, your curiosity peaking, and your inhibitions satisfied even if you’re not quite sure how that happened.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://de.prophecy.de/Artists/Disillusion/

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

You can’t help but gaze into the vast night sky and feel a little lonely. There is so much beyond our world, possibly planets similar to ours struggling with the same issues, forces and beings we cannot possibly imagine. It’s easy to feel small and insignificant knowing you’re but a speck of dust in an entire universe, a place almost all of us never will get to explore.

Those feelings comes on pretty strong when taking on “These Nameless Worlds,” the new EP from Swedish black metal duo Lightlorn, as they offer a small sojourn into the unknown. Over four immersive tracks, the band—multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Renwar, drummer/programmer Riaan—flood these songs with cosmic atmosphere that fills your mind with tingling sensations and makes it easy to imagine leaving this place and finding out what lies beyond the Earth. The music might be epic in nature and fills your eyes with stars, but the thorns are sharp, and you won’t have a ride sans turbulence. It’s spirited and adventurous, sending jolts down your spine and opening your imagination to its fullest.

“Unmapped Constellations” opens with synth hovering as notes drip to the earth before the energy engages. Wild shrieks pierce the sky as spacious melodies race to the stars, the guitars eventually easing and bringing somber tones. That’s a buffer for another huge explosion, riffs charging and encircling, shrieks gusting, and the emotion charging away. “Through the Cold Black Yonder” guts right away as Renwar’s shrieks crush your ribcage, and then the riffs encircle and make the room spin out of control. Some poppier moments bring levity as keys drip and echo, riffs cascade, and the power increases before slipping into spacious numbness. Melodies gush again, keys plink, and every element slips behind the sun. “Dilation Sleep” dawns amid chiming guitars and a rush of fire, crushing and letting emotions gather in a flood. Foggy guitars mars your vision as the synth rises, clean calling icing your wounds and sending chills through your nervous system. The playing all of a sudden pounds away, riffs splatter, and vile howls drive home the daggers. Closer “Stargazing in the Abyss” eases in, the synth blazing and the riffs exploding with devastating power. The vocals wrench as the playing takes on a cool New Wave feel even if briefly, the playing lapping in cold water. Heartfelt chaos is mounted as the guitars gasp lava, the energy catapults, and everything burns off, leaving trails in the sky.

“These Nameless Worlds” contains so many different competing feelings, you might need a few trips through this Lightlorn EP to get a true hold of what these songs mean to you and what is their ultimate impact. It’s easy to slap the cosmic black metal label on something just because it’s immersed in more atmospheric and strange energy, but that descriptor truly fits here. This feels like whipping through the universe, the majesty and vastness making themselves apparent, the heartfelt force of what you’re witnessing making everything inside you shake and shift.

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

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

There are people out there—the person writing this passage may be one of them—who have a tendency to see connections between things that are unrelated. I could go on and on about the different ways this has played a role in my life and the solutions I have tried to diffuse the situation, but this is a heavy music blog, not necessarily a place for my personal therapy sessions.

Pittsburgh’s Emilio Rizzo, the mastermind behind drone/doom project Fuzznaut, chose the title “Apophenia” after hearing the word used on a true crime podcast, yet another thing here in which I heavily relate. Add that phenomenon to the pandemic, people buying into conspiracy theories and purposeful misinformation, and you have the recipe for a disaster. There certainly are threads of darkness sewn through these six songs, and how could there not be considering what we’ve all been through? But in the midst of that also is tribute to fallen heroes, namely Gared O’Donnell of the criminally underappreciated Planes Mistaken for Stars and guitar god Eddie Van Halen, adding a sad reminder that life is fragile, and we don’t always have with us the people who helped put us on our path.

The title track starts things, the drone spreading as the guitars flex, traveling through dust and developing a desert vibe. Ominous tones darken skies, but then light beams through and lessens the murk, pavement melts, and everything unfolds before zapping into space. “Parasitic Oscillation” delivers scuffed guitars and dirty quivering as steely melodies intertwine with the light. Things get sludgier and charring as agitated riffs strike, the doomy storm thickens, and the spirit then bleeds way. “What You Seek (Seeks You)” jostles as it enters, slowly unfurling into dissonance, the sounds thinning out like a rain easing up and letting sun through. Distorted leads burn and mystify, and that leads to burlier playing and noises hanging in the air before dissolving.

“Hawks Over Fifth” feels atmospheric and rough at the same time, the guitars heading into strange air as hypnosis begins to take hold. Things get dusty and grungy as the spirit of the thing floats through the air and into your vulnerable lungs. “Seconds Between a Swing and a Hit” (inspired by O’Donnell) opens with a lonesome vibe, the guitars echoing and flooding the senses. The vibe turns moody and rather sinister as your flesh chills, the playing buzzes and reverberates, and everything hurdles off into space. Closer “5184” contains a main riff that was written Oct. 6, 2020, the day Eddie Van Halen died, a fitting tribute from one guitarist to another. The playing trickles and trudges and at times makes the darkness take hold, but then gritty guitar work unlocks hidden sunshine. The playing still haunts in the midst of all of that, and the final moments mangle your psyche before finally letting go.

Rizzo creates an immersive and highly listenable collection of guitar and drone dirges on “Apophenia,” something you can put on if you need time for reflection or you just want to burn one as a long day comes to an end. Fuzznaut is a project that likely will find favor with Earth fans as well as those following local smokers The Long Hunt, and the trip you take here is numbing and slightly mind altering. This is a journey through a dry heat, but one that’ll feel oddly calming and psychologically rewarding.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://fuzznaut.bandcamp.com/album/apophenia

Dark adventures are not for everyone, but those who embark can find so many things to take away, even when the waters are choppy and dangerous. Records that are more theatrical in presentation don’t offer the quick sugary shots 3-minute songs can, but using your imagination and indulging in the music can help you take that journey and get way more than you can from a bite size.

“Black Terrain,” the second record from Forlesen, is an album that is not great fodder for making quick playlists, unless their music is going to be helping you through a five-hour dental surgery (thanks, Forlesen!). These four tracks that stretch over nearly 60 minutes require your full immersion in order to get all the nutrients packed inside, but if you commit, you’ll find yourself on that dark sojourn, visiting murky terrain but also some exciting peaks that fill your guts with excitement. The band—Ascalaphus (vocals, guitars, synth, harmonium, bass), Bezaelith (vocals, bass, guitars, synth), Petit Albert (guitars, synth, Hammond B3 organ, backing vocals), Maleus (drums)— all have experience with other forward-thinking acts including the Botanist, Lotus Thief, Maudlin of the Well, and Kayo Dot, and they pour all of their imagination, solemnity, anger, and restlessness into this incredible record. It should be noted the great Leila Abdul-Rauf provides glockenspiel and trumpet, helping these four artists flesh out songs that are their own mini cinematic adventures that will enthrall and shake your hungry psyche.

“Strega” is the 19:10 opener, a track that works through a lifetimes of emotions and experiences, feeling like a centuries-long excursion from the wounds sustained. Doom clouds as Ascalaphus’s gentle vocals tell the story of loss and longing, melting through sorrow as Bezaelith’s joins as well, the somber journey only getting darker. The tempo picks up as the guitars drive the dagger, growls sizzle beneath, and we’re back to quiet and calmer waters, with agony swimming beneath. “We are the damned, but we held each other sometimes, we are the damned, then our arms became like chains,” infect your blood, a scorching fury unloads and leaves flesh torched, and the delicate surge takes over and flows into the title track, the shortest track on here, running 8:57. Sounds hover as gloomy passages get thicker and more ominous, drums echoing as Bezaelith calls into the shadows. The storm hangs over head as static spits, and a long, dark, dreamy passage gets more immersive, continuing to bolster stormy skies threatening and eventually sliding its way into oblivion.

“Harrowed Earth” runs 12:29 and delivers an instant burst, furious growls gnawing as bruised flesh begs for solace. “Avert not thine eyes, thou art lost, and cowardice becomes only the suicides, the path revealed, raise up a rock and murder love,” is wailed and blackens hearts, vicious shrieks penetrate, and the fires engulf and spread. There’s a respite from the vicious waves as Bezaelith calls over the tension, paying the emotional toll and soothing wounds. Things slowly melt as wild cries slash the sky, staggering riffs numb, and everything comes to a blurry end. Closer “Saturnine” runs 18:07, and the first eight minutes or so generate cosmic coldness, hovering and speaking in murmurs, exposing you to the frighteningly spacious universe. Guitars then buzz in and send shrapnel flying, the playing buzzes, and both voices combine and generate dreams before unrealized. “Time makes beasts of all its golden children, wild eyed, the ever-churning tide, as we egress through parodies of infancy, and we await being born,” makes your mind tumble and fall, hearts gush as the playing spirals, and the final call of, “Go now and let it all come…” haunts you dimensionally and reverberates as everything fades in noise.

“Black Terrain” is an exceptional experience, a record you absolutely must visit multiple times so that every rich element here can get into your brain and stimulate your imagination. Forlesen bring plenty of darkness but also the possibility of rebirth on your own terms, and these four tracks and nearly hourlong run time provide a thrilling and harrowing adventure of surging highs and crushing lows, embodying the human experience. This is a record that’s hard to fully convey in words, hard as we tried, so visit the music, make the journey yourself, and take inventory of your own transformation once the Forlesen craft lands and drops you off in the shadows of your own doorstep.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://i-voidhangerrecords.bandcamp.com/album/black-terrain

Or here: https://metalodyssey.8merch.us/

For more on the label, go here: http://i-voidhanger.com/

Record and music come together in various different ways under myriad circumstances, and surely each album you experience has a story behind it. The one we have today is a tale of friendship, health struggles no one would ever want to face, and the strength it takes to make something come true that you’ve formed inside your head.

“II,” the new record from Dead Cross, is one that sounds chaotic, pummeling, and abrasive, and without knowing what went into the creation, you’d likely just think it’s a group of heavy music vets releasing their frustration and making noise. Yet, this album is a bigger deal than that. Guitarist Michael Crain was diagnosed with an advanced form of cancer in 2019, and to help cope, he gathered his powerhouse bandmates—vocalist Mike Patton (Faith No More, Mr. Bungle), bassist/vocalist Justin Pearson (The Locust), and drummer Dave Lombardo (ex-Slayer)—and got to work on these killer nine tracks. This was all going on while Crain was suffering from the nausea and physical demand of recovering from treatment, with that agony driving his work and the band rallying around their friend as they made music that pays homage to each of their adventures into the art they chose. That makes this beast even more powerful.

“Love Without Love” kicks off with guitars scuffing and Patton whisper singing, one of his most threatening tools. The chorus is simple but ominous, and later on, everything goes wild including Patton, who ends this with one of my favorite lines of the year: “Like Billy Joel, I’ll be moving out.” “Animal Espionage” trudges as spacey guitars lurk, and then the pace suddenly knifes with dangerous energy. The vocals numb as the guitars stretch into space, and all cylinders fire dangerously as Patton taunts, “Wish I was one of them, so I could blend. Pig champion, champion!” “Heart Reformer” blasts with punk energy and speedy vocals, warping your psyche as it makes its move. The playing swims in weirdness, slurring and staggering, manic energy pounding your congealing wounds. “Strong and Wrong” is crazed and echoey, Patton using the megaphone gimmick to make his vocals stranger and more detached. The chaos snaps as rants slash, and thrashy fire buries you under still heated ash.

“Ants and Dragons” takes off with the vocals blistering and manic energy pouring like diesel. There’s a strange, nightmarish vibe and Patton jabs, “Who is the monster in the room? Two choices: Me or you,” a question with an answer that isn’t very calming. The playing charges and smashes, squeals pierce your brain, and everything burns off in a squall. “Nightclub Canary” launches in relentless power that slashes at your mind, convulsive energy making bile charge up your throat. Things then slink into trashy alleyways before the fires are lit again, and maniacal howls deface you over the mangling finish. “Christian Missile Crisis” has Pearson taking over on vocals as the track torments and punishes. “I’m not the creep that you know, I’ve got a mental problem that you borrow, watch me paint it black and fucking take it back,” Pearson lunges as the energy combusts, safety is an option taken off the table, and a psyche wash swallows everything whole. “Reign of Error” is a 1:46 bruiser than enters, delivers snarling riffs, chugging speed, and scarring shouts, then it leaves before you know what hit you. Closer “Imposter Syndrome” has Lombardo firmly behind the wheel, his drums pacing and driving, the rest of the mind fuck forming around him. “It takes one to never know one,” Patton wails repeatedly on this track, fucking up your mental space, exposing the lies you tell yourself. This is all amid a monstrous pace that chews on your last nerves and sizzles out, dragging you behind.

“II” is a massive, satisfying, electric chapter in Dead Cross’ story, and the strength, nausea, and torture it took to create this thing is astounding, a total genuflection in front of Crain as he battled for his life making this incredible music with his friends. As mangled and tortured and animalistic as these songs are, and you will pay a mental toll, it’d so oddly heartwarming to know just how these songs came together and the pain and camaraderie stitched into each one. Dead Cross has made and surely will continue to make incredible, stimulating art, but everything that went into this, all of the human emotion and suffering, could make “II” the most impactful thing the band ever creates.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://deadcross.lnk.to/dc2

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