Following a band from its roots allows the chance to be there from the ground level as the sound develops. Inevitably, things will change and grow as the band gets more experience together as players and as humans, which is part of the fun because it kind of feels like you’re along for the ride. People will drop off along the way, new people will enter, but you’ve been there from the start, haven’t you?
If you’re looking for that kind of thing, hitching your wagon to Denver death/doom trio Cronos Compulsion would be a pretty good idea. On this five-track first EP (they have two demos and contributed to a split release before this) “Malicious Regression,” they encircle you in lightning-rich storm clouds, pounding down with a ferocity and force that’s nearly impossible to defend against. The band—vocalist/guitarist Wil Wilson, bassist/vocalist Addison Herron-Wheeler, drummer/synth player Jon Linskey—already sounds like a unit more seasoned than their two years together, and this EP should generate excitement with anyone who comes within its reach of where this group could go next. The possibilities are morbid.
“Secher” strikes as an initial aural assault to stretch your mind grapes, letting pressure build and static spit, and then it’s on to “Sacred Butchery” that busts open and angles for your psyche. The growls pummel as the playing sludges, going violent and thrashy, delivering blows to an abrupt end. The title cut is a total assault with the growls crushing, leads stabbing, and an evil aura growing more intense, guitar squeals pulling back flesh. The playing gets chunkier as infernal howls let loose, bringing sinewy destruction that mauls and splatters. “Morbid Subconscious Explorations” brings scarring guitars and a calculated pace before the piledriving assault takes over, the growls marring your senses. The drums decimate as the ugliness multiplies, chaos explodes, and the pace slows but remains insanely heavy, smoking to the finish. Closer “Consumed by Malignant Spirit” is eerie and ominous, the guitars storming as raw growls boil in blood. Everything spirals as the gears turn with maniacal ease, growing hypnotic at points, the brutal growls clobbering, the final moments choking you in ash.
Cronos Compulsion may have a small footprint so far in the metal annals, but “Malicious Regression” is a massive blast, an impressive first EP that brims with promise and monstrous violence. Over five songs, this trio goes for broke, pouring as much vitriol as possible into this effort, making it certain they are deadly serious and willing to claim victims. This should be the start of a devastating run for a band that sounds on the cusp of doing something massive.
I honestly don’t know how Asthâghul does it. The sole creator of death/black metal force Esoctrilihum has released 10 full-length albums over the past six years, all of them challenging, none of them like any other entry in his canon. There have been four Esoctrilihum albums released since last June alone, all of them stellar, and that should have prepared us for Asthâghul’s most ambitious work yet.
“Astraal Constellations of the Majickal Zodiac” is that 10th record, the project’s second album this year, but this one is a gargantuan. The three-movement, 14-track, 130-minute creation obviously is a lot to handle, a trio of works grouped into one package that might not be optimal for single-setting listening. That depends on the person, and perhaps it’s more easily digestible that way, but I found it far less cumbersome to approach than Metallica’s new record, which is 53 minutes shorter! Here, Asthâghul unleashes this sprawling space opera about “a war between bizarre zodiacal deities who contend for dominion over reality through psychic control of minds” (the album is packaged with an insert that fully fleshes out the trilogy’s plot). Each section differs from each other, though they work nicely as a cohesive whole, and the focus, metallic violence, and psychedelic pressure make for a journey that’s brutal and imaginative, absolutely overflowing with madness and destruction.
The first section is “Part I – In The Mystic Trance of Tȃimonh Ѳx, the Cosmic Bull God” and it starts with “Arcane Majestrïx Noir” that unloads right away with slashing screams and monstrous musical swirling, smashing with creaky visions, maniacal bursts, and mystical hell. “Saturnyôsmachia” has keys invading, strangulating vocals, and a swirling mission that adds a strange streak amid the carnage. The pace toys with your mind, sounds swarming, detached singing making things feel strangely hypnotic, ripping through echoes. “Atlas Eeïm” has breezier moments but also ones of mammoth panic, the synth dashing and sometimes icing, the fury trudging and coming at you with force. Melodies churn and simmer before everything disappears into space. “Tȃiɱonh Ѳx” is a mix of darkness and fire, the keys again acting as a major cog in the track, the howls jerking as the black metal sequences make the scene feel even more volatile. Sludge clogs veins, spirits rise, and the fantastical finish makes blood race. “Ѳxphiliastisɱe” basks in ceremonial organs, sweltering amid a driving force, shadowy forces lurking in the shadows. The swelling base mixes into spacey keys and then isolation, strange transmissions making your brain feel like it’s working overtime. “Uran-Ѳx Death Star” drills and destroys, fierce growls flex their muscles, and the pummeling trades off with mystical passages. The drama builds, the keys take on an orchestral heat, and fiery growls and grim power bring part one to an infernal end.
“Part II – In The Presence Of AlŭBḁḁl, The 5-Eyed Star Beast” dawns with “AlŭBḁḁlisɱe” that storms and trudges, the howls going for the throat. The aggression is obvious, and it continues through these six cuts, gaining ferocity and racing, fluid speed exciting and sparking adrenaline, everything flooding the senses. “Shadow Lupus of Sæɱons-Ŧuhr” bleeds in with the drums commanding and the synth taking on a dungeon vibe, the hellish majesty hitting a high point. Animalistic howls rage as the riffs take over, synth pumps, and the shrieks curdle blood. “Skorpïus Nebŭlah Tyrant” hisses and slays, the synth generating dreams, a wondrous, strange aura making its presence heavily felt. Riffs darken as the playing ices your synapses, adding incredible pressure before combusting. “Lunåår Phalanx of Ω Draco” is immersive and thunderous, the ridiculously monstrous vocals feeling even more demented, destroying even as the keys try to work as a cooling agent. The drumming totally combusts, rampaging through the glistening nightmare, exiting in a synth glaze. “Säth-Oxd, Stellar Basilisk” starts bathing in the clouds, making you think you might have some breathing room, but it’s short lived. Everything is blown apart as tyrannical screams shred flesh, chant-like calls ripple your spine with chills, and hypnosis becomes a hurricane force that levels cities and psyches. The middle section concludes with “Omniversal Ȥodiac War” bursting through the clouds, chewing at your jugular, majestic and monstrous forces uniting for the attack. Horror folds in as spacious leads exhale new life, and then vicious bends rob you of breath, racing and stirring, ending the violence on the surface of a place devoid of oxygen.
“Part III – In The Mouth Of Zi-Dynh-Gtir, The Serpen-Time Eater” opens with “Ȥi-Dynh-Ɠtir: Eon Devourer” a 21:01-long epic that is both haunting and gnarly, punishing with immersive dreams built on orchestral wonders. The track unloads and delivers inhumane insanity, the carnage gathering as the synth swarms, and your imagination rockets. The vocals go from full-throated violence to creaky terror, phantastic energies softening the blow before bleeding out into the unknown. Album closer “Serpatɧei-Ӿythioŋ : Reptilian Time Reversed” runs 21:45 and immediately strikes a sense of urgency, the drums slaughtering, cavernous power making every muscle ache. The playing slips into the cosmos, meeting up with raw growls before bursting anew into an unexpected calm. Keys drip as breezier temperatures greet you, though you know full well a storm rages on the other side. Shrieks stab through the mystery, the track grinds you in its gears, and immersive keys splatter, everything surrounding it hulking with the last gasps of damage that leave scars that’ll never go away.
It’s an understatement to say “Astraal Constellations of the Majickal Zodiac” is a lot to digest because it honestly is. It’s a massively stuffed record from Esoctrilihum, yet it’s brimming with life and inspiration that it never truly feels as long as it is. That’s a major win for the ultra-productive Asthâghul who seems to have an endless supply of ideas that he freely turns into some of the most imaginative and sometimes completely terrifying black metal. This is his most impressive creation so far amid a catalog brimming with touchstones records.
We’ve been inundated with ideas of the end of civilization, what with a pandemic so many people chose to ignore, our decaying societies largely blamed on the pox that is social media, and, at least in this country, the orgy of gun violence half our politicians show zero interest in trying to manage. That doesn’t mean everything has to be swamped in misery, but today will provide no solace.
It’s can be no mistake that Ascended Dead named their second record “Evenfall of the Apocalypse” because the soot-covered death metal that’s pile into this beast only can be for the end times and no other eras. The band—vocalist/guitarist Jon Reider, guitarist Ian Lawrence, bassist Kevin Schreutelkamp, drummer Charlie Koryn—returns after six years since dropping a full-length with 11 furious tracks and 41 harrowing minutes that lock you in the gears of real-life horrors and refuse to let the sun shine through. This feels like misery on top of insult, a destructive collection that sounds like it’s been festering in the creators’ minds for some time and only now has been vomited forth as this volcanic record.
“Intro/Abhorrent Manifestation” enters like a ghoul, swirling into stabbing guitars and infernal howls that pummel physically and psychologically. A panicked fury erupts as wild yelps strike, shredding the senses and slinking into the stars and headlong into “Ungodly Death” where the guitars absolutely trample. The intensity is a lot to handle as the growls mangle and the pace stampedes, with everything engulfed in unextinguishable flames. “Nexus of the Black Flame” splatters as it enters, harsh growls throwing haymakers, the speedy carnage consuming bodies whole. The playing aims to destroy the mind, leads melts, and a frenzied attack clobbers poor souls, crushing all the way to the end. “Bestial Vengeance” unloads and drills into your chest, raw howls spit venom, and total violence arrives. The stomping accelerates as harsh storming and blistering thrashing unite, burning off into the distance and right into “Tantum Bellum” that attacks with electricity. The playing ravages as the senses are obliterated, speeding through manic howls and vicious intensity, crazed cries stinging flesh and mashing bones. “Inverted Ascension” unloads marring sounds and jabbing playing, frying brains cells in an act of total annihilation. Guitars engulf as the soloing takes off, raging into an insurmountable act of terror.
“The Curse/Enveloped in Thorns” smashes through, mangling veins and creating disorienting damage, succumbing to pummeling force. The howls devastate as leads zap, the bass chars, and the total slaughter races to the finish. “Visceral Strike” brings tornadic hell, crazed howls chewing at nerves, insane destruction carving a path to hell. The playing continues to devastate as the final moments are stamped out by scorching guitars. “Passage to Eternity” is an instrumental piece that begins with cleaner guitars wandering, taking on a classic metal vibe, acoustics dancing amid the devastation. Eventually the spirits go wild, and faster playing makes its mark, wafting out into the night. The title track unloads and splits skulls, your melted brain exposed, the leads utterly dominating. The playing devolves into maniacal fury, ripping into the vortex of hell, leaving black ash behind. Closer “Intransigent Blackness (outro)” devastates and brings a final dose of pain, giving one final shove into the combine gears that eats bodies whole and extinguishes all hope.
“Evenfall of the Apocalypse” is aptly titled as that what it feels like you’re facing the entire time, your existence way too close to the nightmare to try to flee for safety. Ascended Dead put every ounce of evil and unforgiving intent into these 11 tracks, creating death metal that acts as much as a harbinger of doom as a piece of relentless art. This is music for worldwide devastation, a soundtrack to watch the world burn as it, justifiably, consumes every one of us.
We’re constantly looking for meaning in life and in our everyday activities as we strive to get through this adventure with something to show for our efforts. Along the way, we struggle, we fail, and sometimes we use those things to learn and make our future journeys more informed because of the trials we have faced. But in the end, does that matter? Are we rolling the boulder up the hill for no reason?
I don’t expect we’re going to find any answers today. Certainly not on this sprawling site. But we do have “The Eternal,” the second record from Óreiða that tries to tackle these issues and make some sense of the struggle. Sole member Þórir G. Jónsson, known as Thor in this project, was reflecting on his own spiritual journey, as well as the relationship humans, the planet, and universe share with each other. The effort also ties in concepts from Albert Camus’ take on the Myth of Sisyphus and his concentration on the juxtaposition of humans assigning meaning to their activities in life and the universe’s refusal to respond in any meaningful way. That feedback just isn’t coming. These five tracks—all instrumental cuts—lend credence to the idea that we work and strive, conquer our hurdles, and still stare into the eyes of eternity no matter what. It can be daunting, even pointless to some people, but we have no choice unless we want to live a hollow existence with no substance at the end of our journeys.
“The Path” churns in the atmosphere, sounds whirring, the playing cutting inward. Spacey playing gazes as the power surges, melodies crush, and the tempo picks up into a tornadic force. The playing buzzsaws before entering into an imaginative fog, melodies lapping and repeating, allowing heat and frost to unite and explode. “The River” is jarring with synth clouds collecting and crushing, settling into the stars and moving gently through the night skies. The mystical aura then tears open as riffs catapult and spirits collect, running at an adventurous yet ominous pace, surging as your mind explodes. Synth quivers as the seas rage, eventually with all elements soaring deep into the blackness.
“The Climb” enters in a black metal spiral, swimming through smeary hypnotics, a strange gaze taking over before the drums rupture the bubble. The playing rushes as your heart races, thunderous power rivets, and the blazing hits an apex before fading away. “The Apex” is trudging and cloudy, the strangeness gathering as the sounds enter a maw, the synth layers devouring everything. Your nerve endings tingle as an infusion of power ruptures, pushing and adding pressure until the sounds rocket into the sky. The closing title track gushes as guitars push, melodies wash, and barometric pressure plays games with your mind. A slow, entrancing vibe takes hold as the playing gazes anew, storming through intense peaks and valleys, blasting into the universe for an eternal mission.
The universal understanding at the heart of “The Eternal” and the struggles we all face are shared battles, a mission we either accept or fail to face. The music here that Óreiða creates not only is imaginative, it can be the soundtrack to your own exploration as you strive to gain a better hold of your place in the galaxy. It’s a creation that has so many twists and turns, a run of human emotions, that it likely will take several trips to fully get a grasp on where you’re headed.
Nothing lasts forever, though many of us lie to ourselves and bargain with whatever forces we can to try to maintain status quo as long as we can. But that’s not reality. The world changes, people move on to other things, and even worse, those who we love and hold dear sometimes leave for whatever plane of existence is next. Or sometimes people’s hearts change, leading to life upheaval.
For dreamy LA-based doom quartet Iress, they have faced a lot of the tumult we have, including a global pandemic you may have heard about. Undeterred, the band has returned with a new four-track EP “Solace” that starts the bridge a gap from excellent last full-length album “Flaw” to whatever comes next. But that’s getting ahead of ourselves, and we shouldn’t do that because this is a mesmerizing, emotionally arresting piece that contains some of Iress’ finest work. The band—vocalist Michelle Malley, guitarist Graham Walker, bassist Michael Maldonado, drummer Glenn Chu—examine that phenomenon of change and the hurt and beauty often threaded into that. It’s not always easy to approach life taking a twist or turn we don’t anticipate, but what matters is how we react and go on with our lives.
“Blush” starts in a numbing buzz before the doom clouds begin to gather, giving off a vibe reminiscent of King Woman. Malley’s breathy vocals wash over you as the emotions collect, and the music builds off that, gushing and vibrating. “I don’t mind, take your time leaving,” Malley calls as the power fades into the distance. “Vanish” is murky and foggy, Malley asking, “Where do you run to?” The playing moves quietly as it slowly drips, the guitars eventually bursting, the drums more aggressively joining the fray, jarring before ending abruptly. “Ricochet” has heaviness pulsing and Malley again leading with her dominant singing, flexing her skills. The verses bleed while the choruses crush, delivering a massive wave with Malley jabbing, “Thought that I knew you,” as the guitars gain heat and melt away the tension. Closer “Soft” begins ominously, moving through the shadows, Malley admitting, “You and I, we’re not made to last.” Guitars create a greater fog, moving through the mist, Malley calling, “I’m not ready,” as the pieces crumble away into dust.
These four songs are some of Iress’ most haunting work, and “Solace” might be a shorter release, but it comes with no shortage of power and vulnerability. These songs work into your emotional DNA and identify with all of the darkest elements of your experiences, acting as something of a comfort when weary. It’s an exciting glimpse of perhaps where the band is headed, and we wait with bated breath for another full-length from this evocative band.
All types of music pay homage to the past and the vibes that come from that era. Metal and heavy music are no different as plenty of bands hitch their style to those who came before them, sometimes downright aping the form instead of carving out their own identities. Part of the issue is it sounds like hero worship based in the modern era. Very few bands transcend and feel legitimately their own spirit.
For five records now, Canadian doom power Blood Ceremony has created art that sounds like it was bled out five decades ago, locked in a safe, and released in calculating manner. Yet, that’s not the case, and it goes to show how much heart and mind Blood Ceremony have invested in not only playing magickal, witchy music that would be firmly at home in the deep past, but they do it with their own personality and charisma, which has made them their own entity. The band—vocalist/flautist/organist Alia O’Brien, guitarist Sean Kennedy, bassist Lucas Gadke, and drummer Michael Carrillo—return with their infectious new record “The Old Ways Remain,” a title based on a lyric from “Witchwood” from their 2013 album “The Eldritch Dark,” and the concept of past spirits haunting the present is encased masterfully in their music that will live in your flesh and bones for years to come. The long seven-year layoff after their last record is satisfied with this 10-track album that proves how special this band is and what an amazing grip they have on their mission and style that continues to haunt us gleefully.
“The Hellfire Club” gets the record off to a fitting start, that being haunting organs settling in, strong psyche riffs riding high, and O’Brien’s vocals leading, albeit more softly than usual. That’s fitting for the track as her flute opens up and joins the keys, and the track gets fiery as hell, punching back and surging before draining into the background. “Ipsissimus” is a powerhouse, jolting and letting the flute flutter, the one-word chorus acting as a goddamn ear worm that refuses to vacate. The guitars layer in some ’70s heat, and all the elements come together to haunt your mind. “Eugenie” is about the 1970 sexploitation/horror film (full name is “Eugenie … The Story of Her Journey Into Perversion”), and it’s a riveting, sultry affair where O’Brien’s vocals truly come to life. “Now comes the hour, now comes to mystery,” she calls as the organs swell (um, no pun intended), guitars charge, and sax adds a seductive edge that devastates. “Lolly Willows” could be a sure-fire hit, the flutes causing your brain to swirl, O’Brien insisting, “She will love you.” Guitars charge up as the story continues, the admission of, “But we hope she’s coming down,” adding a wry sense to the whole thing. “Powers of Darkness” has a flowery, vintage feel, something expected and welcome from Blood Ceremony. The chorus is catchy as hell, and the psychedelic marching makes your heart race, basking in infernal energy.
“The Bonfires at Belloc Coombe” unleashes start-stop power, guitars churning, and violins crying (played by Laura Bates of Völur) as the track heads into a dark shuffle. The tease to dance in the bonfires is infectious, the shadows deepen as the guitar work and flute are in lock step, soulful calls ringing in your ears and into the night. “Widdershins” opens with fiery riffs and alluring verses, the flute playing daring you to tread the left-hand path. Jarring, ominous swirling makes the room spin as the rushing chorus returns for one more, mercifully bleeding away. “Hecate” again recalls spirits from many decades ago, its haunting aura strengthening its grip, melting in smooth, dreamy madness. The track feels like a pop song marred with psychedelic insanity, made into something that still gets into your bloodstream but blackens your eyes and heart. “Mossy Wood” has a rustling, folkish vibe, definitely in line with Blood Ceremony creations from their past. The bass plods as violins scrape new trails, and then everything goes even darker than usual. Mesmerizing playing thickens, synth zaps, and the final steps are encased in an amber sheath. Closer “Song of the Morrow” cools your mind, moving slower and heading into a cosmic stretch, letting hypnosis take total control. The singing is washed out as the flute makes ghosts dance, dark tidings washing over amid guitars electrifying, melodies lapping, and strange noises fully engulfing.
Time stands still for Blood Ceremony, even after such a lengthy layoff, as their world remains unchanged, which is an eternal gift delivered by “The Old Ways Remain.” It is, then, a fitting title for this collection, one that adds to the band’s power of occult dreams and bleeding madness, leaving you wondering how far down the rabbit hole you’re willing to follow. Our guess is pretty fucking far, just like we have, with Blood Ceremony waiting at the end with open arms, ready to greet you at your door.
Death metal hasn’t been universally known as an art form to expand your mind and find enlightenment. In fact, it’s typically known for the opposite, that being tearing apart your psyche, unloading artistic violence, and dwelling in the most negative aspects of humanity. There are exceptions to that rule (Blood Incantation, for example), and finding artists that can stretch these possibilities can be more interesting.
The arrival of mysterious newcomers Lunar Chamber ushers in more death metal that isn’t here to just splatter brutality and has loftier goals in mind. The band—guitarist/vocalist/programmer Timeworn Nexus; guitarist/vocalist They, Who May Not Be Perceived; fretless bassist Æther Lotus; drummer K. Paradis—employs a progressive style to their fury, but lyrically, they delve into typically unexplored territories by most death metal bands. “Shambhallic Vibrations,” their five-track offering is an open-ended concept piece about a person travelling to the East to find enlightenment and higher knowledge, touching upon Buddhism, Hinduism, and esoteric knowledge. That makes the music something that’s more intellectually adventurous and mentally stimulating as you go on this journey with them, feeling like your brain is transforming along the way.
“Intro (Shambhallic Vibrations)” opens bathing in spacey synth, guitars reverberating and rupturing your nervous system, the bass bending backward into inhuman shapes, heading into “Spirit Body and the Seeing Self” that continues to agitate the strange aura. The track bursts as vicious growls spreading, and the bass triggers a sort of mental rewiring, pushing through carnage and hypnotic wonders, clean calls drizzling into the background. Guitars smear as the pace hits high gear, the soloing explodes, and immersive prog electricity races and blasts to a final mental implosion. “Interlude (Ancient Sage)” is dreamy with chiming guitars and shimmery wonders, making your mind soak in oddly warm waters.
“The Bodhi Tree” continues to unravel the tale, focusing on Gautama Buddha’s own time stretching human possibilities, the track blazing and snarling, anything but unleashing calming ground for meditation. The pace stomps hard as the bass becomes a coiled snake, wrapping itself and squeezing out life, leaving its trail behind as the playing gets more violent. The drums splatters as the leads grow, growls and shrieks challenge the mind, and the final blasts leave chest cavities heaving. Closer “III. Crystalline Blessed Light Flows… From Violet Mountains Into Lunar Chambers” ends the tale as knowledge is achieved, and the very reality we know splits into infinite realities. The band lurches and hovers, delivering mystical insanity, chant-like singing driving, intermittent breezes temporarily cooling the atmosphere. Strangeness abounds as the playing rampages but also causes your dream cycle to hit a high cylinder. Growls menace as the bass playing comes alive again, trancey soloing taking over, fiery playing leaving clouds of smoke, and more mesmerizing singing chills before disappearing into the fog.
Lunar Chamber combine their penchant for Eastern mysticism with brain-wrenching death metal expertly on their debut record “Shambhallic Vibrations,” one of the weirder records to grace us this year. I feel like my brain was leaking through my ears through the bulk of this adventure, which I mean in a good way as a challenge is something I embrace. This record won’t be a universal favorite, and it’s likely not intended to be, but for those who wish to stimulate their minds as well as their musical palate, this album and band will be revelatory experiences that will push your own artistic boundaries.
There’s something to be said for understanding a proper serving size and being OK with letting that out into the world. Leave them wanting more, you know? Bloat is not a good look for anyone (hi, Metallica!) and it can just make you full, with little of what you heard actually sticking. So, when a band understands that and gets that right, it only serves to magnify the power of their creation.
To put it bluntly, Nightmarer make death metal that’s not likely to be everyone’s taste. They revel in dissonance, they bend minds with progressive prowess and technical strength, and they realize unloading too much of that can oversaturate. Their second record “Deformity Adrift” is a testament to that as they deliver nine tracks in 32 minutes, expertly cooking up just enough to satisfy but not having you beg for a merciful end. Lots of bands of their ilk don’t seem to get this, but Nightmarer—vocalist John Collett, guitarists Simon Hawemann and Keith Merrow, bassist Brendan Sloan, drummer Paul Seidel—have the confidence and ability to put their best stuff forward, ravage you, and get out. It makes the challenge easier to face and their stomach-wrenching style more digestible, though you’re still going to find yourself hammered to your core when it’s over.
“Brutalist Imperator” emerges and immediately electrocutes, the growls mauling as the bass bubbles dangerously under the surface. A progressive feel emerges and pops up frequently throughout the record, the punishment jostles ribcages, and the final moments melt into time. “Baptismal Tomb” explodes into sinewy hell, mauling with tech-minded thrashing, the howls tricking your mind. The playing continues to engorge as the band keeps adding pressure, leaving you breathless. “Throe of Illicit Withdrawal” brings melty chaos, snarling and unveiling bizarre auras, slowing down to add more menace to their assault. The drubbing returns as the band decimates your senses, the guitars collecting steam before disintegrating in the clouds. “Tooms” is an eerie interlude that feels like a disorienting dream sequence that leaves you wondering where the connection is between awake and asleep.
“Suffering Beyond Death” blasts and unloads, growls crushing while the playing exposes muscle that can strangle. Sounds swelter as the playing picks up, slowly cutting deep into bone, jarring thoroughly before blasting off. “Taufbefehl” emerges from a storm as howled vocals register, and a weird, spacey vibe takes over, which makes sense considering the alien-like death that slithers. Noise squalls jar eardrums as the playing gets more deliberate, making the assault a little nastier. “Hammer of Desolation” stings and trudges, the growls scraping at open wounds, the slower immersion making the punishment that much more effective. The playing has a rubbery strength, showing dexterity and cruelty, basking in a vicious metallic haze. “Endstadium” is a short interlude with noise wafting and cloud cover thickening, heading into closer “Obliterated Shrine” that takes its time tightening up its vice grip. Guttural power blurs vision as growls mar, and the blackness gets more impenetrable, slipping into a haze and putting you to sleep.
Nightmarer’s technically sharp death metal sounds as vicious and bloody as ever on “Deformity Adrift,” a record that puts a gruesome edge on a more progressive mind frame. There’s a lot to like here, and the band never gets lost up their own asses with their playing, always remembering to inject excitement and personality into the mix. This is a menacing beast, one that makes the most of its time and leaves everything a tangled mess of flesh and bone when it’s over.
Gather around, everyone, and listen to the old man go on again about thrash metal and how it’s just not what it used to be in the glory days. Someone fetch my blanket. Look, thrash took a beating in the grunge years, and even its progenitors abandoned it while it was consumed by its new host. Death and black metal survived and thrived almost as opposition while thrash faded away.
So, you’ll understand why I grimace every time I get a record to review from a young thrash band trying to fan the flames again. Many have tried and failed, but it’s not a hopeless venture. Take, for example, Virginia crushers Enforced who have done the thrash/crossover thing with stunning power and precision, and that carries over to their massive new record “War Remains,” their third. If you were psyched by the direction taken by the band—vocalist Knox Kolby, guitarists Will Wagstaff and Zach Monahan, bassist Ethan Gensurowsky, drummer Alex Bishop—on 2021’s “Kill Grid,” you’re going to be right at home. This has menace, tenacity, and most of all, heart, something so many of the other bands who tried and burned out didn’t have. You can feel it through every second, and these 10 tracks and nearly 34 minutes of chaos wash over you in no time, indelibly leaving their mark.
“Aggressive Menace” kicks things off with a blast, the thrashing intensity making an early statement, howls ripping through the night. The jarring power hits its apex, barreling toward your prone body as Kolby’s raspy growls bark orders. “The Quickening” has great energy and pummeling vocals, the leads burning brightly and taking bodies apart. Stomping fury matches the direct shouts, the guitars rampage and destroy, and clouds of smoke cause choking inhalation. “Hanged By My Hand” charges with drubbing speed, mangling with thrashy violence, the guitar work adding to the pressure. Everything hits a high point as all elements unite to overpower, Kolby’s throaty yells making this thing feel even meaner. “Avarice” destroys with Slayer-like leads, assaulting the gas pedal and showing no concern for safety. The vocals go for the throat as the guitars add more fuel, shredding and destroying with no mercy. The title track chugs along as relentless shouts and clubbing intensity unite, Kolby wailing, “War is what makes us human!” Guitars fire up from there, the tempo obliterates, and things fade into exhaust.
“Mercy Killing Fields” dawns ominously before taking on speed and eventually steamrolling. The howls massacre as the playing destroys the senses, clubbing with ferocity that adds insult to injury. “Nation of Fear” brings marring guitars and screamier shouts, the simple, yet effective chorus bruising, the drums adding to the carnage. Guitars swell dangerously as the pressure is added, and the final moments stab away. “Ultra-Violence” blasts through the gates and mercilessly strangles, speedy vocals spitting out madness, the guitars boiling dangerously. The thrashing drubs and powders bones, the guitars hit a new level of ferocity, and the whole thing races hard and destroys all barriers. “Starve” is more tempered as it starts, letting the heat rise before the stampeding gets under way in full. “Let me starve!” Kolby wails as double-kick drums rumble the earth, the guitars barrel over, and it feels like you’re trapped underneath a runaway train. Closer “Empire” is dark and strange, the vocals chewing for the jugular, decimation taking over. Just when it seems like the temperature has peaked, the bad hits another level, bringing unforgiving destruction that levels until it ends abruptly.
I’m always skeptical of bands trying to revive true thrash metal, but Enforced have proved time and again to be up for the challenge and have the chops to make this style feel that much more volatile. “War Remains” is a nasty, formidable record that brims with life while it deals the worst punishment the earth has to offer. As long as bands such as Enforced are active and trucking, thrash metal will remain alive, feeding on the flesh of its victims.
Death touches us all. Sure, we have our own ending to consider, the inevitable final step in all of our lives that looms large over everything. We also deal with the loss of others, the memories and longing for connection with those who have entered the beyond, and even the demise of parts of our culture. We cannot avoid this, and the only way to deal is to go through it.
These were the types of themes in the minds of Pittsburgh’s Spotlights when creating their fantastic new record “Alchemy for the Dead,” their fourth album and one that delves even further into their psyches. While the band operates on the perimeter of metal, there’s enough heaviness in the music and the lyrical content to find a home among those who indulge in brutality. In fact, last summer the band—vocalist/guitarist/keyboardist Mario Quintero, bassist/vocalist Sarah Quintero, drummer/vocalist Chris Enriquez—played a support slot for Cave In and found kinship with the audience with their blend of heaviness and dreamy murkiness. These nine songs are some of the most realized and emotionally impactful of Spotlights’ run, and this is an album that hopefully opens more eyes and ears to their mesmerizing, sometimes stormy pathway through all the ways death touches our lives.
“Beyond the Broken Sky” slowly emerges, the song bubbling and floating, jostling your insides. The mood then gusts as punches land, Mario calling, “But I can’t see the stars, now I can see the stars,” as the track fades in exhaust. “The Alchemist” enters amid beats and impulses, doomy waves crashing as the singing induces shadows. Toy piano notes confound as guitars stretch, sounds crashing through transmissions that are both eerie and jolting, crashing into the ground. “Sunset Burial” liquifies as the bass drives hard, guitars and synth mixing into a ghostly force, crashing and whirring like a hallucination. “Just go spitting out the words no one needs to know, right up to the end, you’ll hide under the ground,” Mario sings, sinister and striking visions lightning up the night sky. “Algorithmic” is sinewy, basking in thick bass buzz, the singing punchier and also a little higher register. The chorus is lush but elements of this are dirtier, leaving ash and chaos, fading in an electric fog.
“False Gods” has claps and gnarly guitars chewing their way in, heavy damage being sustained even as moodier elements attempt to soothe. Tenor sax from Ben Opie (himself a musician at renowned Carnegie Mellon University) makes your mind spin, as Mario wails, “There’s no use in looking up, weak little creature made for disaster, maybe there’s something you can believe in now?” as the track blisters in gaze. “Repeat the Silence” has riffs sneaking in as hushed singing lulls, eventually opening and smearing, the aggression being amped up to dangerous levels. Keys glisten as the guitars hypnotize, yells bristling and shaking loose your nerves. “Ballad in the Mirror” is both dreamy and alarming, letting you bask in cooler waters before lightning ripples. Spacious playing feels liberating, then it mixes with thorny edges, drawing blood and leading you into the cosmos. “Crawling Toward the Light” is grungy and immersive, Mario calling, “Call the shot straight to your heart, cut the shock straight from your heart.” The chorus is rousing and crushing, sweeping with energy and emotion, bringing sludgy hammers that leave bruising before zapping into the stars. The closing title track starts with acoustics and softer singing, the strangeness swelling before your eyes. “You’re not gonna heal me,” Mario insists, “It’s too late to help me now, and you’ll never believe me, but no one hear me now.” Mellotron quivers as electric squalls send pulses, heaviness looms large, and acoustic strains return, leaving only stardust behind.
Our eventual demise can be incredibly uncomfortable, even terrifying, but its inevitability is something we cannot avoid. Spotlights steer headlong into that thinking as they examine it from every end, every twist of psychosis on “Alchemy for the Dead,” their most immersive record they’ve ever done. It’s not easy to think about or confront, but with songs like these nine, it can open our brains and hearts and try to make the darkness a little more inviting.
