There are only so many obstacles that can be placed in front of someone before they start to wonder if the venture is even worth pursuing. While everyone faces struggle in their lives, sometimes the circumstances just get to be too heavy, and it’s understandable when that ends projects in their tracks. But there are some who cannot be deterred, even when the water is up to the neck.

The story of Eight Bells has not always been a smooth one, despite the band making some of the most compelling music in all of metal’s terrain the last decade. But a leg injury guitarist/vocalist Melynda Jackson sustained on their tour with Voivod a few years back was a big physical setback, and then the dissolution of the lineup that recorded their last record “Landless” seemed to be another massive blow. But Jackson didn’t give in. She kept searching for the right parts that she found in bassist/vocalist Matt Solis (Cormorant, Ursa) and drummer Brian Burke (No Shores, Cave Dweller), and that unit produced “Legacy of Ruin,” the band’s excellent second full-length. The progressive ambitions and melding of all types of rupturing sounds from the trio is enthralling and pummeling, and the vocals remain vital and entrancing, this time mixing gender voices and adding a different element to the mix.

“Destroyer” starts with noises swelling and Jackson and Solis merging their voices for haunting harmonies. “I am death, destruction, I am strife and struggle, I am suffering, helpless, I am hopeless, careless,” the anger and frustration flooding through. Jackson’s shrieks rip, feeling cathartic as the playing chugs and sprawls, and then calm dawns as the voices float. The guitars go off as the bass jolts, making the final moments compelling and powerful. “The Well” is the longest track, running 11:10 and starting in eerie waters, the harmonized voices chilling with guest vocalist Melynda Marie Amann entering the fray. “Finding no redemption, sentenced, say a prayer to no one, muted,” Jackson calls, haunting your blood as the power really kicks in. The playing combusts and mauls, dripping in psychedelic power, even calming for a stretch as Jackson mournfully wonders, “Will you be there when I die?” The doomy hammers drop anew, haunting and destroying, Jackson calling out, “Our well runs dry, Lord hear our cry.” “Torpid Dreamer” is punchy and aggressive as it opens its gates, a haze hanging over, Jackson and Solis blending seamlessly. Moody leads stretch as the leads circle, trudging power chugs, and everything ends in mesmerizing storming.

“Nadir” dawns amid a heavy mist, setting the stage for the heaviness to crumble and adds even more pressure. “I am sure there’s no heaven, to adore is my weapon, right now is all we have,” amplifies the emotion that bleeds from every pore. The melodies take off, the intensity spikes, and everything lathers and floods toward “The Crone.” That track moves in as the singing drips like water droplets from an icicle, and then sunburnt, wondrous playing envelops you, leading into vicious shrieks and growls. “Witch! Crone! Bitch! Diviner!” is howled as the fury rages like lava from the earth, Jackson vowing, “Retribution, fucking vengeance, I’ll return,” as the last blasts melt away. “Premonition” is the 9:28-long closer that starts hypnotically and immersive, leaning into heavy stabs and violent shrieks, disrupting any sense of sanity. “Precious gift, nothing left, husk of an empire, dormant,” rattles cages as the guitars lather and the melodies build. The moodiness increases in the final stretch, the darkness folds, and the playing drubs, ending in lush acoustics licking the final embers of a city burning down.

This is a triumphant return for Eight Bells and Jackson especially, coming back from a gruesome injury and watching her band fall apart around her, only to find the right pieces and deliver “Legacy of Ruin.” This feels like a band reborn, bubbling back up from the ashes to prove their might and resolve, combining forces from other sources to create a greater whole. This is a tremendous statement, one of the band’s strongest to date, and no one ever should doubt Eight Bells and the weaponry they possess.

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

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/eightbells-legacy

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

I lose myself in music that immediately gives me visions of some far-off place or something that activates my imagination. It’s why anytime music transports me into the cosmos, I tend to gravitate toward it because I’ve never been to the stars and likely never will, so the musical experience is as close as I’ll get to alien terrain.

An Evening Redness’ self-titled debut album (the band name and themes are inspired by Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian) falls into this same category, though it’s not taking us anywhere beyond this earth. Instead, the music, a rich mix of drone, dusty Americana, and doom, transports the listener deep into the desert, playing with heat and isolation as well as colorful evening skies that breath new life into your lungs. Composed, arranged, and produced by Brandon Elkins, this six-track album also soothes with warm hallucinogens, bloody lands, and biblical terrors, and he’s joined by vocalist Bridget Bellavia (BLKTXXTH, Piggy Black Cross), guest soloist Brendan Sloan (Convulsing), and drummer Ryan Jewell to flesh out these creations. Bellavia’s vocals are especially haunting, and the music is impossible to shake as your dreams take you right into the driest part of the land where your mind tells you stories you didn’t know existed.

“Alkali” is the 12-minute opener that stretches its legs and expands as it basks in acoustics and electric hum, slide guitars make the dusk thicker and tastier, and the haze turns into drone. That elements picks up and double, sizzling in eerie whirring, dumping you harder into western terrain, making your stomach rumble, disintegrating into the cold distance. “Mesa Skyline” has keys swarming as Bellavia’s voice enters the fray, feeling both sultry, soulful, and calming. The guitars make your mind melt, bringing a spacey chill, adding a noiry country sheen and then basking in slurry atmosphere. “Winter, 1847” melts in and vibrates, delivering a cosmic swirl amid crackling fires and dramatic synth darts. Theatrical orchestration kicks in and creates some of the most unexpected moments of the entire record, and the returning slide guitar brings some redness to the sky, scorching flesh and delivering darkness.

“The Judge” runs 10:39 and dawns amid steely harmonica and rain pattering, the synth knifing in behind and creating imaginative psychedelic colors. The atmosphere thickens as majestic swirling picks up and increases the falling mists, and then the harmonica returns and calls from the distance. The desert vibe thickens even more, your ears begin to ring, and darkness lurks as the horizons turn orange and purple. “Pariah” brings more fire and precipitation as Bellavia returns and calls into the night, balmy temperatures working their way in and making flesh crawl. The vocals stretch as the keys glisten, the singing lures souls from other dimensions, and the playing ends at the heart of a fever dream. “Black Flame at the Edge of the Desert” ends the record with lush country ease and voices calling, jazzy guitar making the hair stand on your arms. Western vibes and the yawning night sky meet as acoustics add a gentle flourish, and then the agitation arrives. “No salvation!” Bellavia wails, the sounds combust, and everything collapses into an angelic wonder.

I’ve never been to a desert, but I feel like I have an idea of what to expect psychologically just from taking on An Evening Redness’ self-titled record. The music sinks into your mind and body, teasing you, testing you, asking for your full emotional commitment. Every component woven into this record is key to making this whole thing work, luring you into the trap to let the music have its way with your mind.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://transylvaniantapes.bandcamp.com/album/an-evening-redness

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

Death metal has no boundaries, no expectations, no rules. Not anymore. We’re better off for it because the subgenre has grown and pushed itself into areas no one ever expected when it crept from a swamp three decades ago. There still are bands that deliver meat and potatoes, which the sound definitely needs, but the bands that defy what’s expected are the true explorers.

It’s not hyperbolic to say there is no other death metal band quite like Colorado’s Blood Incantation, easily the most inventive and challenging of any artists pushing the sound. They’ve developed a reputation that’s become godly, but they deserve it because their first two full-length albums have redefined the style forever. But this band—vocalist/guitarist Paul Riedl, guitarist Morris Kolontyrsky, bassist Jeff Barrett, drummer Isaac Faulk—isn’t here to meet your expectations. Their new record “Timewave Zero,” named after a Terence McKenna theory (you have Google), contains none of the instruments listed above. It’s a synth-driven ambient space record with some Moog, Hammond organ, a solitary guitar for a moment, and just a vast maw of space for you to explore. This summer, I am going to listen to this record outside with the stars as my companions and let it wash over me. We are reviewing only two tracks as the third, “Chronophagia,” was not provided and is a CD exclusive. But the two we were given are the soundtrack of deep space isolation, where only you and your thoughts are relevant.    

“Io” starts simmering as noise builds and the keys seal the heat, feeling like a ghost hovering overhead as you try to get your bearings. Spacey lines spill as a sci-fi ambiance stretches, staying cold and haunting, mixing into the mist and the second movement that develops an eerie sense of isolation and confusion. The synth makes jolts go down your spine but also soothes at the same time, spinning in time and making your balance questionable, sinking into the third movement that gives off a heat hum that works on your psyche. Sheets float through the clouds as the melody lines swim among the stars, feeling downright Floydian as the waves continue to lap and increase the sense of dreaminess, spilling into the fourth and final portion. That section feels like it floats freely, cooling and circling, folding in darkness. The vibes are strange and unsettling, turning into dust and disappearing into the cosmos.

“Ea” is mesmerizing and numbing as it takes form, rolling through clouds and settling in your cells, feeling completely mind altering. The pace remains static and hypnotic, slowing the tempo, mixing into the second part that allows the pressure to build right away, sounds zapping like your brain is under the influence of chemicals, teasing your sanity. Electric impulses deal strange vibes that make your curiosity level build, moving you into the third section where the playing gets moodier, cymbals crash, and a lone acoustic guitar jags. Keys increase the unsettling ambiance as drops land slowly, and then we move toward the final movement where the melody bleeds into the picture and your mind freezes, moving purposely glacially. Frost builds on your lashes as the synth gushes and creates haziness, and then everything settles into the unknown, with your body lightly convulsing.

Blood Incantation are running on a different level than just about every other modern death metal band, and coming up with an all-ambient album when you just know people are dying for riffs takes some balls. But the bulk of their listeners likely have wider imaginations than most, and what they’ll find is a mind fuck of a journey that would feel perfect at night outside on your back, gazing up at the universe. They’ll certainly be back with the heavy shit before you know it, but let’s not discount this imaginative gust into the unknown that is going to haunt me for years to come.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://centurymedia.store/

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

For as much doom as I consume on a regular basis, which is quite a lot, I almost never do so in an altered state. I know, I’m doing it wrong, and I fully acknowledge this. I’ll try to work on this during 2022 as I strive to become a better person. I feel like because of this, I have not really indulged in what doom truly can mean to imagination and body because I’m always of clear mind.

Maybe I’ll start this venture with “Dwell in the Fog,” the third record from Swedish stoner doom crushers Firebreather who make one fuck of a case for vibing out with riffs on this six-track album. Thing is, every experience I’ve had with this record I’ve been 100 percent sober, so that goes to show you the power of this music and the energy they inject in these songs because I’ve done nothing but enjoy this beast every time I went to bat against it. The band—vocalist/guitarist Mattias Nööjd, bassist Nicklas Hellqvist, drummer Carl-Axel Wittbeck—lays it on thick battering you with killer riffs, a rumbling low-end assault, and vocals that are harsh but approachable, making for a record that’ll go down even better when the temperatures warm up.

“Kiss of Your Blade” heats up with heaviness in the form of doomy punchiness and gruff shout singing, pumping the blood in your veins. Great leads steam, and then we hit a higher energy level, as Nööjd howls, “Shake the ground! Levitate!” as the pummeling melts out into energetic haze. “Dwell in the Fog” has guitars bubbling in before things unload in a calculated manner, the singing scraping flesh. The vocals stretch out and flex as burly tones take over, the power bristles, and feedback clouds coat the skies. “Weather the Storm” starts cleaner before things get aggressive and the howls punish before the tempo kicks in harder. Defiant vocals and electric jolts combine to let the lava flow heavily, the bass prowls dangerously, and the track hammers to a numbing end.

“Sorrow” cuts in and chugs, the roars stretch, and the pace begins to sink in its teeth, tearing away muscle. The leads begin to light up and gash through steel as the heat continues to increase, the playing crushes, and everything ends in mauling energy. “The Creed” starts with the drums spilling and a blistering low end blackening eyes as the fuzz kicks up and accumulates. The soloing floods as punches land and do ample damage, swimming in raucous energy. “Spirit’s Flown” is the closer that dawns in spacey noise and dusty guitars before things erupt, and a blistering, trudging assault starts to gain steam. The guitars blossom into psychedelic storming, aggravating fires and taking their time to increase the ambiance, and the things gets crunchier and abrasive, ending in feedback flattening.

Firebreather use “Dwell in the Fog” not only to deliver a hammer blow to those who choose to take on this record but also to increase their own profile in the swelling stoner doom category. They do it with precision, some muscle, and a lot of energy, making it feel like you’re battling a noise storm that is intent on making it feel like you’ve been through a battle. On the other side of it, yeah, you’ll be sore, but you’ll also know you weathered a journey worth the mileage.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.ridingeasyrecs.com/product/firebreather-dwell-in-the-fog/

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

We speak often about music that is able to take you places in your mind and help you have an experience that goes beyond simply putting on a record and absorbing the music. It tends to mean a little more and stick to you harder when the music gives you something extra, and if that can flow into planes beyond this realm, then it’s even better as long as that’s something you can manage.

French psyche doom force Deathbell is one of those bands not just interested in putting their music on record; they also want to transport you and get inside your spirit. Their powerful second record “A Nocturnal Crossing” creates a tie between the life and death, delving into metaphysical forces and spiritual introspection that gives the listener a taste of something they perhaps haven’t had before. The band—vocalist/keyboard player Lauren Gaynor, guitarist/keys player Bastien Commenlongue, guitarist Fredrik Bolzann, bassist Valentin Troï, drummer Robin Draye—pushes out smoky, emotional doom that burns and takes its time setting up ambiance, pulling right into the middle of their hypnosis.

“The Stronghold and the Archer” is a stunning opener, working into psychedelic smoke as Gaynor’s powerful vocals first rear their head. The guitars are heavy and spacious while heat is generated and spat generously, and then the vocals reopen and surge, heavier punches land, and the final moments bleed out in color. “Devoured on the Peak” unleashes a bluesy sheen with Gaynor’s vocals super powering everything, and the guitars blurring and flexing. The leads heat up as the fuzz contingent multiplies, the song kicks back pretty hard, and a strong, emotional flood washes away the flames. “The Ladder” bleeds in with guitars emerging and synth billowing, feeling gothy and spooky. Things get grittier even as the melodies increase, the synth glistens, and the singing gets deeply sultry, sending jolts down your spine. The playing mesmerizes heavily, slow-moving heat scorches, and a final stomp runs through and leaves the paths they created scorched.

“Silent She Comes” starts with guitars drizzling and organs haunting, Gaynor’s vocals kicking in and adding bruising. The song keeps picking up tension as it goes, the humidity thickens, and Gaynor howls about “your demon eyes” as the track ends in sweltering stickiness. “Shifting Sands” slowly lands and takes a calculated approach, the vocals absolutely killing. The guitars move into the psyche void, delicately melting as Gaynor wails, “You don’t know!” The organs sprawl as the guitars stretch, and the singing again pumps juices, sprawling in the sand. The title track closes the album with eerie keys bubbling and doom waters blackening, Gaynor absolutely going off. Heartfelt magic buzzes in your chest as Gaynor calls, “Out of the dark, into the light,” the guitars generating lava. The fires build as your nerves are on end, everything catapulting off into a cloud of smoke.

“A Nocturnal Crossing” is a record that truly feels like it is branching the cavern separating the living and the dead, and the music here equally is scathing and psychedelically rich. Deathbell take a pretty big leap from their strong debut to this second record, and they feel like they’re figuring things out, really establishing their metallic spirit. This is an album that demands your full participation, body and spirit, and it will reward you over and over for that commitment.      

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

To buy the album, go here: https://svartrecords.com/product/deathbell-a-nocturnal-crossing-album/

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

It’s stunning just how much heavy metal royalty remains in our plane of existence, still putting out great work and absolutely killing it live, that is when they’re able. To be able to breathe oxygen into our lungs at the same time as Iron Maiden, Obituary, Judas Priest, Scorpions, Carcass, and so many legendary acts are carrying ravaging torches is something for which to be eternally thankful.

Let’s not forget New York death metal institution Immolation who have been at it for more than three decades and remain an intimidating force live. They have returned with their 11^th record “Acts of God,” their first in five years and a mammoth of a collection that will overstuff you in the best possible way. This thing is 15 tracks that stretch over 52 minutes, and while that might seem like a classic example of failing to edit themselves, it’s really not. Everything on here crushes as the band—vocalist/bassist Ross Dolan, guitarists Robert Vigna and Alex Bouks, drummer Steve Shalaty—is channeled and ferocious, sounding impressive, scary, and jam packed with horrors about our modern world, burning down your psyche. Things flow seamlessly, nothing overstays its welcome, and its impact is mighty. This is a tremendous album, one that should please even those who have been on board since “Dawn of Possession.”

“Abandoned” is a classic-style intro cut as eerie clean guitars cut through, paving the way for “An Act of God” that absolutely tears everything apart. Dolan’s growls wrench as the guitars chug and strike, mashing bones to paste. The drums disrupt, fluid leads gush, and things burn out and head into “The Age of No Light” that ignites with guitars as it dawns. This one is rowdy, a crumbler that feels like it’s cutting through the earth, the leads warming your blood. The band keeps pounding away, stripping away your psyche, ending with the pace hammering. “Noose of Thorns” jabs with one of the most memorable riffs on a record packed with great ones, and it’s easily one of the most infectious songs on this collection, clobbering and rupturing veins. Vicious growls jolt as the guitars weigh down, leaving everything bloody in its wake. “Shed the Light” brings chunky guitars and harsh growls, the tempo jerking your neck viciously. There’s a brief haze disrupted by blinding guitars and mauling drums with the whole thing ending abruptly. “Blooded” thrashes and delivers devastation, heavy heat scarring flesh. The guitars snarl before hitting an even higher level, and the growls squash bowels, coming to a furious end. “Overtures of the Wicked” hits speedier paces, the vocals are spat out, and the precision grinds away. The growls smother as the evil spirits mar, leaving burnt flesh behind. “Immoral Stain” starts with dark, clean guitar lines, but then the power kicks in, and the band heads into total destruction. The playing goes all in, absolutely killing everything in front of them, delivering ominous warnings about impending destruction, falling away with jarring chaos.

“Incineration Procession” pushes in with a start/stop assault, pummeling with beastly growls jabbing through rock. Drums splatter as the guitars get more intense, vicious howls increase, and the final moments devastate. “Broken Prey” brings scarring playing and the leads totally swagger, the growls bustling and delivering haymakers. Everything rains down as the leads engulf, and the finish is punishing. “Derelict of Spirit” punches in as humid leads wilt flesh, and then the rhythm section mashes, bringing on unforgiving brutality. The guitar work is again sinister and impossibly sharp, and the growls lacerate as everything rushes out. “When Halos Burn” begins with a drum assault that is impossible to experience without taking on damage, and the rest of the track follows the lead, squeezing marrow from your bones. “Let the Darkness In” brings riffs that increase the heat dangerously, and it feels like scarring is picking up and putting your well-being in question. The track gets even darker, things come unglued, and the intensity explodes, ramping up and pushing the chaos into hell. “And the Flames Wept” is an instrumental piece that is both sizzling and hazy with isolated guitars buzzing and setting the ambiance for closer “Apostle” that saves one of its tastiest riffs for last, chewing and mauling, slicing into muscle. The band thrashes viciously, the growls roar, and the leads lather, ending things on a menacing note.

It might seem 15 tracks is a lot to handle, but Immolation make it feel like a great feast, and the album whips by in a flash. “Acts of God” is a toppling creation that proves these trailblazers of death metal not only still have it, but they sound as hungry and bloodthirsty as they ever have as there is not a wasted moment on this thing. It’s great getting a new Immolation album in any year, but having one this good in which to indulge is something for which we should be morbidly thankful.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://www.immolation.info/acts-of-god?fbclid=IwAR3hUCIvrvxtkUz1LnbAGF1Q4z1tOEwyMhIoijzdWA5ckc8SgXEmXvwelys

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

Not all bands find the need to expand and push their own boundaries, and there’s really nothing wrong with that. Consistency and your audience knowing what to expect from you can foster a lot of goodwill and a lack of bad feelings from those who consume your music. It’s smart business. But that’s also not for everyone, which is a reason metal has become so diverse.

It’s not like The Howling Wind is recreating anything with their new self-recorded EP “Oak,” but for them, it’s showing an even more expansive mind frame that could get pretty fucking exciting if this is an indication as to where things are going. Its two members—Ryan Lipynsky (guitar, bass, vocals, synth, noise) and Tim Call (drums, vocals, noise)—remain committed to elements of black metal and doom in their music, but with the heavier contributions from their ghostly synth, the music goes to a different level that can chill you to the bone. These four tracks that stretch over 15 minutes are slim, trim, and immersed in something that feels like it’s clouding your mind with imaginative impulses and warped devastation like they’re taking a trip to a new plane of existence.

“Cursed Machines of Catastrophic Failure” punches open, delivering raw fury and chaos, the guitars chugging in soot. Riffs slice as the track gets thrashier, synth clouds over everything, and the atmosphere is filled with melody and violent tendencies. The title track starts with guitars dripping in before heavy punches land, and the vocals scrape through a foggy synth haze that fills your lungs. Melodies compel as creaky vocals rumble, and then the sounds melt into serenity, giving an unexpected dose of calm. Things slowly slither back, the guitars generate scornful vibes, and everything is swallowed into the void. “Time Erosion Weapon” dawns in a sci-fi synth scape, and then vicious howls arrive and claw into muscle. Punishing riffs send cinders flying, the drums smash, and a black metal-style assault melts into sinister shrieks and a tornadic pressure. “Lost Dark Mountain” ends the EP with a sound bed created by thick keys, and the vocals twist into your psyche and leave damage. The guitars float in a spacey gasp of psychedelics, the vortex starts to swirl, and everything disappears into cosmic mystery.

“Oak” is the first new music we’ve heard from The Howling Wind since their 2019 full-length “Shadow Tentacles,” and what we find on these four immersive tracks is their continued foray into exploring more mysterious and dangerous sounds. This is a satisfying bridge to connect whatever comes next, and if this is any hint, then the next record could really be a total mindfuck. That sounds like an alluring possibility as these two keep pushing the possibilities of what it means to be heavy and sinister.

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

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

A lot of people, myself included, feel like we’ve been through hell the past few years with everything we’ve had to withstand. And it’s been a lot, and it’s been painful, and some of us lost a lot. But there are people who have been suffering far longer and have endured punishment and devastation we only can imagine. Those people don’t have that luxury; their hell is real.

Indonesian black metal force Pure Wrath, the brainchild of Januaryo Hardy (he handles vocals, guitars, bass, synth, songwriting, and lyrics) delivers something more harrowing and heartbreaking on their excellent third record “Hymn to the Woeful Hearts.” On this album, Hardy writes in dedication to a mother and survivor of the 1965 Indonesian genocide whose son was kidnapped, tortured, and beheaded. It’s a tragedy that haunted all of her days, spending five decades trying to live as if nothing has happened when inside, she was undone by grief. It adds a much heavier pall to this record that sounds vibrant and melodic but is awash in a story that would cripple most people. On the record, Hardy is joined by guest musicians Yurii Kononov (drums, and also of White Ward), Dice Midyanti (piano, cello, additional elements) and Nick Kushnir (additional guitars) to add more spirit and texture to these six tracks that easily can be absorbed into your bloodstream.

“The Cloak of Disquiet” opens with acoustics and fires crackling before a melodic rage explodes, stunning and crushing emotions. The leads glimmer, and a brief cold spell designed to relieve the pressure paves the way for another gust, even with some clean calls rushing behind. Drums crash as the playing flows, bringing everything to an arresting end. “Years of Silence” brings guitars gashing as raw wails hammer, and keys drip in to add a new eloquent element. A moody pace begins its stretch, and then things get electrified all over again, keys melt into the earth, and things end in elegant bloodshed. “Presages From a Restless Soul” rips open and blisters right away, flooding the senses and wrenching your mind. The tempo continues to steamroll as the shrieks devastate, and cleaner calls send cool waves to soothe you. The guitars gust again as the vocals smother, and all the elements melt in glorious haze.

“Footprints of the Lost Child” pummels with a frenetic pace as the melodies hit their breaking point. The synth gives some regality as the playing cascades dramatically, letting your blood surge. A dip into acoustics and foggy synth goes into rippling power, speedy and heartfelt energy, and a finish that robs you of breath. “Those Who Stand Still” quakes as it starts, crushing with great riffs and hypnotic playing that makes your heads spin. Things gets numbing as the pace halts, noise drizzles, and then a fresh explosion acts as a tidal wave, leaving everything washed away. The title track closes the album with clean trickling and synth rising with the atmosphere acting like a calming force. Strings glaze as warm, gentle waters flow, mixing into a cosmic void that bring this instrumental cut to an end.

“Hymn to the Woeful Hearts” is the finest work of Pure Wrath’s run, an album that establishes a major chunk of the melodic black metal world to them, which they richly deserve. Every part of this record is jammed with genuine emotion and unmistakable power, truly paying homage to the mother whose experiences are at the center of this record. This is a rush of an album musically, something exciting and utterly electric, but at its core, it’s a human story about someone who would not give in even in the face of unspeakable tragedy.

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

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

Or here (Europe): https://www.debemur-morti.com/en/12-eshop

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

One’s presence here on Earth should not be a sedentary one, simply taking up space and absorbing oxygen and fuels just so we live to the next day. Sure, we’re all busy and have different responsibilities than we had even a couple years ago with how much our world has changed, but staying in the same place and just walking life like a treadmill at one speed is no way to exist.

Long-standing Swedish metal institution Cult of Luna is the perfect model of that thinking as they’ve demonstrated their flexibility and refusal to settle over the past almost quarter century. That goes even further than ever on “The Long Road North,” their eighth and first full-length since 2019’s amazing “A Dawn to Fear.” The band—vocalist/guitarist Johannes Persson, guitarist/vocalist Fredrik Kihlberg, guitarist/production master Magnus Lindberg, bassist Andreas Johansson, keyboardist/vocalist Kristian Karlsson, drummer/percussionist Thomas Hedlund—used the chaos that steamed from “Dawn” and their 2021 EP “The Raging River” and turned inward to measure personal growth and progress. It’s a mental adventure to become the humans the band strives to be, and it can work as a great tool to apply to our own lives, making sure we avoid complacency and we continue to grow.

“Cold Burn” begins plotting with chilled synth and a ramming pace, the gut-wrenching shrieks feeling particularly jarring. The track is icy and dark, trudging through the woods and collecting atmosphere, and then the keys thicken and travel, delivering an emotional heaviness you can taste. The roars land hard again, and a hazy gust comes to rest amid doomy warnings. “The Silver Arc” is dreary as it hangs overhead, the roars crunching and directing toward cataclysmic power. There’s a gothy feel that comes within the mist that’s gathering, and there’s a sense of calm that lands, laced with just enough unease. Things hiss before we head for an explosion, the vocals wrench forcefully, and the leads grow more immersive, the final moments pounding out your guts. “Beyond I” bathes in a synth cloud as Mariam Wallentin (of Wildbirds and Peacedrums) wails, “Someone’s calling out my name,” as the track bows to the chilling night. “An Offering to the Wild” is the longest track as 12:45, and it lets time for the atmosphere to build and mature, as the track unfurls its wings. At just before the five-minute mark, the roars land, and things come apart, compelling and scorching as the tension builds, while the earth rumbles below. The vocals sink teeth into flesh as fires flare, and a strange vibe settles into the waters, making everything feel uneasy. The flow comes alive again, overwhelming with power, and then everything fades.

“Into the Night” drips in feeling psychedelic, with a Floydian ambiance and force, the singing moving clean through the fuzz. The tempo works gently but forcefully, as Persson dreamily sings, “I hear you calling to me,” sending chills down your spine. The whole things blows up finally as the intensity blasts, with everything dissolving into eerie zaps. “Full Moon” is a strange, apocalyptic instrumental built with ominous stomps and chilling keys, moving toward the title track that starts with a dusty western sensation, almost as if you’re expecting cacti and coyotes calling. The vocals wrench as a spacey vibe darts through, moody backing increasing the darkness. Things keep pushing as the atmosphere thickens, keys ring out like signals (that element reminds me of “Finland” from “Somewhere Along the Highway”) before the vocals rush and punish. The playing drives harder as your heart rates increases, crushing and merging with the increasing noise hum. “Blood Upon Stone” combines thick keys and jolting riffs, the vocals peeling back flesh, the rocks pelting your prone body. Cosmic melodies snake into your oxygen as dark waves lap the shore, and a reflective stretch leaves you blissfully prone. Things heat up again as the vocals gut, a burst of sound flattens earth, and the final moments soar far into the deep night.  “Beyond II” closes the record letting synth sheets float and woosh, the drums crumble, and weird sounds and moans intoxicate you, preparing you rest under a canopy of stars.

Cult of Luna never fail to capture the imagination, and “The Long Road North” is another high point in a career full of them. Their soul journey they’re on with this record is impossible to shake, and who would want to when you’re surrounded by quaking, strikingly emotional music that gives as much to your heart as your mind? This is an all-time great band still operating on a frighteningly high level on their eighth record, and every journey with these nine tracks is an experience that will change you forever for the better.   

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

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

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

Metal has its hefty share of bands that embrace speaking out on societal and political issues as well as trying to preserve the planet and take up for people with less power. That’s made it a lot easier to find bands that identify with our particular viewpoints, especially those who happen to be sympathetic to trying to preserve life for those around us.

Legendary Montreal sci-fi thrashers Voivod were some of the first to do that, lacing their early music with Reagan-era paranoia, nuclear worries, and environmental themes, with a huge dose of intergalactic fantasy, hence their alien mascot of the same name. After four decades of existence, the band is still running strong, getting ready to deliver their great 15^th record “Synchro Anarchy,” an album that’s a blast of fun and finds Voivod sounding as powerful as they have the past 20 years, bringing their weird, warped style to these nine new tracks. The band—vocalist Denis “Snake” Belanger, guitarist Daniel “Chewy” Mongrain, bassist Dominic “Rocky” Laroche, drummer Michel “Away” Langevin—maintain their unique style as they sound undoubtedly like Voivod, and they remain as skeptical and worried about the world in which we live and whether enough people care to try.

“Paranormalium” kicks off the record, and immediately we’re ensconced in that bizarre Voivod spaceship only they can commandeer. The tempo jars as Chewy’s guitar work wonderfully reminds of the late Piggy’s weirdness, and we’re off to the races. Belanger is in fine voice, nasal and direct, playing with our emotions as this cut has all the classic trappings this band created. The title track brings jolting guitar work as the playing knifes your ribs, and there is some nice group harmony over the chorus, Belanger poking, “What are the odds?” Things get tricky before the guitars turn warmer, and then things glimmer as one more chorus blazes skies. “Planet Eaters” focuses on humanity’s penchant for scarring our own world and our formulating plans to branch into space with Voivod’s patented brand of absurdist humor that doesn’t seem all that far-fetched. A proggy jerk hits you hard as the bass folds, the pace clobbers, and a spacious stretch lights up the soloing. “Mind Clock” is moodier and even a little softer at times, especially vocally, at least for the first part. Things heat up as the bass get flexible and the guitars chug, giving off their classic sense of thrash. The music turns feverish, whipping through space, speeding and tangling as things end in eerie detachment.

“Sleeves Off” brings crushing riffs and heavy bass, battering and confounding, the slippery verses feeling like alien flesh. A wah-heavy solo washes in and warps while the final moments explode and shred bone. “Holographic Thinking” gallops in as strong vocals bruise, and the guitars dice and emit stardust. “Gone forever! Out there, fading out,” Belanger snarls as the guitar work climbs into the atmosphere, searching and scanning for signals. “The World Today” delivers sludging bass and a jerky pace, with a smooth chorus numbing your senses. Guitars get strange and bubble, and the playing is never not catchy, always making your brain work overtime. “Quest for Nothing” has trudging riffs and an active imagination, and even some gang shouts are worked in to add to the wounds. “I am a small grain of sand,” Belanger notes, later following with, “This life is the only one I have,” a needed warning for those who haven’t been living within themselves. “Memory Failure” ends the album by chugging in and chewing bone, humid playing coating the flesh. “You’re here to find it, you’ll never find it,” Belanger taunts as soloing goes off, rubbery rhythms confound, and the song wanders off into the open void.

After 15 albums and four decades as one of the most forward-thinking bands in the history of metal, Voivod continue to deliver the charmingly weird goods like they do on “Synchro Anarchy.” These guys never sound old or dated as their music lives in the stars, and they’re as hungry and paranoid as they’ve ever been, which makes them such a charming and challenging band. All hail the Voivod, destroyer and distributor of justice in the universe.

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

To buy the album, go here: https://voivodband.lnk.to/SynchroAnarchy

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