When I was first cutting my teeth as a reviewer over at the long defunct Unchain the Underground, I had the distinct honor of reviewing Blut Aus Nord‘s 2003 opus The Work which Transforms God. I recall it distinctly being one of the most difficult reviews I ever had to write. The music the band created was new, extreme, pummeling, challenging and ultimately difficult on a level which few records I’d ever heard before were. It offered up an extremity for which I was not prepared. I could tell, though, that it was a revolutionary record. It was something special truly special… Extreme, abstract, brilliant, innovative and done in a way that I was not ready for. I really, really hated it. 

So it is with Dodecahedron (except for the hating it part), the Dutch black metal band that Season of Mist signed and who were previously known as Order of the Source Below. The band’s self-titled debut (as Dodecahedron) is an undulating soundscape of dissonance and could be called a progressive or technical approach to black metal. It is undoubtedly one of the most extreme interpretations of the genre I’ve ever heard. Reminiscent, certainly, of a band like Deathspell Omega, or on the death metal side, Ulcerate—but also of impressionist classical music and 12 tone jazz—the band rarely ever wanders into the melodic realm. It is music that is more akin to an abstract painting than it is to many of its peers in the black metal scene. The music pulses and surges between amelodic riffs, building what can unironically be called atmosphere. And the atmosphere they summon is one of almost Lovecraftian horror that evokes a physical response from the listener.

Dodecahedron pushes the boundaries of what is acceptable in metal in a way that few other bands ever have. Like the cascading riffs that work a bit like a round at the end of the “A View from Hverfel III: A Traveller of the Seed of the Earth,” which despite not being backed up by a blast beat and even being slightly melodic are just off enough to make the listener’s skin crawl with a sort of creepy anticipation. “Allfather” is less subtle in its dissonance, cascading out the door with a shocking vulgarity. The vocals float above and behind this, at times tortured screams and at times more common black metal fare. But at the best of times they are produced in such a way to sound truly insane and evil. “I, Chronocrator” introduces dissonant riffs that interlock like gears but never seem to work together, which creates an unsettling feeling that nothing will ever resolve. And, as it should be, nothing ever does resolve until the very last minute of the album when it fades out.

What Dodecahedron is accomplishing here is truly the boundaries of the most extreme of metals. Sure, there are other boundaries in noise and sludge and doom that are on the edge of extreme, and other bands out on the experimental edge of black metal like the ones I’ve already named; but the approach that Dodecahedron takes strikes me as more extreme than almost anything I’ve heard. The grudging unwillingness to have even a single catchy melody or a moment of respite from the onslaught on the senses just builds the tension throughout the whole album. And while the band does launch into blast beats and conform, obviously, to black metal fiat—much of the record lurches along, teetering forward like a dodecahedron motivated by internal movement of intricate, free jazz-like dissonance and formlessness form.

Dodecahedron is a triumph. I have never listened to an album that gave me a knot in the stomach before; that truly evoked a physical reaction from me and made me tense up while listening to it. It is a truly extreme record in the most literal sense of the word.

(This review has 666 words.)

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Wolfen. Never did I hear of them. As the album title suggests, they have three prior releases, yet the mighty Eye of Steel Druhm (like Sauron’s but more bloodshot) never spied them as they skulked through the Germanic underground. I don’t like that, since stealth wolfens are my least favorite kind of wolfen. Regardless, Chapter IV is their first album since 2006 (obstensibly because they were too busy hiding from The Eye to record anything). If this one is any indication of what the earlier platters had to offer, its perplexing they didn’t get more notoriety. They play a style that walks the line between traditional metal and thrash. It also has plenty of that ”Germanic” vibe we all love so much. Their sound comes closest to Angel Dust, especially during their Bleed era, but there are also references to Accept, Grave Digger and Brainstorm. Chapter IV offers some rockin but accessible songs, and unfortunately, a few pedestrian ditties as well. Thankfully, Wolfen hits more often than they miss and this is a solid, enjoyable dose of ballsy, no frills metal with several memorable moments.

Things start smashingly with a series of quality numbers designed to get the blood angered up and pumping. The first six songs are all well done stompers and “D.F.A.I.T” and “The One” are highly addicting after only a few spins. There’s loads of aggressive, manly riffing, thunderous drums and typically rough-hewn, Germanic vocals. Good choruses, good song structures, they have it all down. Even when they slow things down for the grinding “Hole in the Sky,” it works well (largely due the vocals). It isn’t until the middle segment that things go a bit off track with some undercooked material like the comparatively bland “Unbroken” and the frightfully maudlin power-ballads “Dolor Mundis”and “Birmingham 6.” Now, I love me some cheesy power-ballads and I’m as quick as the next bloke to bust out the lighter and wave hands in the air. However, these two just don’t work and come across as awkward and weak, despite some respectable vocals. Seems Steel Druhm will be looking elsewhere for his cheese-ballad needs. Things recover nicely with stormers “Soul Collector” and “White Chapel,” both go for the throat and kick a fair amount of booty (“Soul Collector” has a particularly big, memorable chorus).

The vocals of Andreas von Lipinski are the big draw here. He isn’t the most talented singer but he knows how to sell a metal song. His style is similar to Dirk Thurisch of Angel Dust and more often than not, his delivery elevates the material. The guitars from Bjorn Gruen and Frank Noras are dependable and effective but not very technical. They throw some decent riffs at you, some in a more classic vein, others more aggressive and thrashy, but there isn’t a lot of flair on display. The solos are mostly underwhelming and simplistic but fit the songs decently enough. If you need your tuneage to feature Yngwie-style noodle mongering or neo-classical showboatery, you will be sorely disappointed here. Musical shortcomings aside, this pack possesses above average songwriting skill and most of the tracks have hooky little details that help them stick and makes this a sleeper hit of sorts.

A surprisingly catchy, engaging opus,  Chapter IV mauled me sufficiently to trigger a hunt for their earlier stuff. If you like aggressive but melodic metal, this is well worth a try. Though I’m still not sure how Wolfen acquired a Predator style invisi-cloak, it matters not! I see them now and I’ll be watching, watching with a steely gaze.

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Psycroptic may be one of the best known technical death metal bands out there today. Their high profile is largely the result of the fact that they make a type of technical death metal that moves about a mile a second, but while managing to not be too abstract. The band has historically had catchy hooks and great melodic parts, while never backing down on the guitar gymnastics and with vocals that have been just as diverse and unique as the music behind it. Psycroptic is the real deal, so there was never any hesitation on my part when I got a hold of the Tazmanian band’s 5th full-length The Inherited Repression.

Oh, and I knew what I was going to get out the gate. Even with the logo gone, The Inherited Repression screams “something grim comes this way,” and when the characteristic Psycroptic legato technical riff burst out the gate at about 57 seconds into “Carriers of the Plague” I was pretty much in. The whole album is a tour de force of Psycroptic‘s unique sound. There’s the groove parts (like the opening riff of the album, the amazing stuff in the middle of “From Scribe to Ashes”), the slower “breakdowny” and acoustic parts (but, this isn’t core and they’re few and far between) and the hyper fast and techy style riffs that have been with us since the beginning (some of my favorite riffs show up in final track “The Sleeper Has Awoken” but the whole album is littered with amazing riff after amazing riff). This is the stuff that keeps me excited for every time these guys put out a record.

Another major thing about this record that blows the previous albums out of the water is the production. While 2008′s (Ob)Servant was released on Nuclear Blast, the production on it wasn’t the best. Specifically the drums were heinously replaced and the sound was immensely annoying. The Inherited Repression inherited none of these production problems and it is easily the band’s most balanced album to date. The vocals are pretty far back in the mix and it helps to focus on the whirling guitars, bass and drums which are properly mixed this time around.

But I have a big complaint and, frankly, I’m a little confused as to what’s up. Jason Peppiat replaced Chalky three records ago, and since then the vocals, while not having been as extreme, were actually a little reminiscent of Trevor Strnad’s tendency to switch it up and be really dynamic. One of the things that made Psycroptic interesting to me was the way that the vocals really matched each riff and just as dynamic as the music. Unfortunately on The Inherited Repression vocalist Peppiat has pretty much stopped doing anything that isn’t in the mid-ranged scream area. While he does have two or three different tones that he uses, the death metal growl is completely gone, as well as the more At The Gates scream that he used to do—and that I really, really liked. This shouldn’t be that big a deal, right? It’s just death metal vocals. But unless the music has also lost a step (which, given that the songs are on average about 1:30 shorter than on their last record, is possible), I think that the vocals being so monotonous really has a detrimental effect on the music. While the riffs are solid, I have found that this record sags a bit in the middle, which none of the band’s previous material ever has. The only thing I can come up with is that the vocals were a lot more important than we ever gave them credit for.

I don’t want that to take away from the fact that Psycroptic is a great band and that the music on this record is pretty fucking solid. But I do feel like The Inherited Repression is a bit of a step backwards for a band that is as talented and dynamic as they come. Fans of the band will obviously still enjoy this record, but I’m not sure that it’s going to be met with as unanimous cheers and glee that the band’s previous work has.

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Is lumbering, elephantine doom your thing? Well, it had better be if you plan on spending quality time with Rhode Island doom-sayers, Pilgrim. That’s because their Misery Wizard debut serves up six ginomous slices of crawling, droning, monolithic doom with all the subtlety of a steel cage wrestling match. Do you think Saint Vitus and Reverend Bizarre are slow? Pilgrim is slower. Think Cathedral has some huge sounding riffs? Pilgrim has bigger ones. In a doom pissing contest, these chaps are mellow yellow. To help explain their sound, I’ve compiled a short list of things that move faster than Pilgrim. These include: octogenarians with bad knees, glaciers, evolution and innovation in black metal. Yep, Pilgrim is mighty slow. For a power trio, they make a lot of racket and stay true to the old school style of Sabbath-infused dirgery. They aren’t innovative or particularly dynamic and at times, they can get rather tiresome and tedious, even for a doom fanboy like Steel Druhm. Because of that last factoid, Misery Wizard is an album intended only for tried-and-true doom-hounds who don’t suffer from the slightest trace of ADD [I'll be over here, looking at moss. - AMG]. If your mind tends to wander, or drone makes you snooze, skip this release, or patience you’ll lose (HA! I waxed poetic).

Almost instantly, you’ll hear a big Reverend Bizarre similarity in the lead riff on “Astaroth.” It’s huge and sloth-like and Pilgrim uses it  to beat you senseless, repeating it over and over until you’re curled up in a ball on the floor. Like most of the songs here, this one crawls along like a sleepy snail in Snail-ville, with just the riffs to keep you company. The vocals don’t come in til the halfway point and feel a bit like an afterthought. It’s a classic doom song and at about six minutes, it’s the perfect length and doesn’t overstay its welcome. Others, like the ten-minute-plus title track and the whooping thirteen minutes of “Forsaken Man,” require far more stamina and indulgence from the listener as Pilgrim shambles, rambles and meanders (slowly) across a largely barren and static musical landscape. There are few, if any, tempo shifts and its usually one molar-shaking riff after another, with a minimum of window dressing. “Quest” and “Adventurer” shake things up a bit with faster tempos and actual solos (though “Quest” only accelerates at the midway point), and after all the lethargic rumbling, the increased speed ends up making a real impact and these tracks are high points because of it.

The riffs generated by the Wizard (that’s his name!) are fairly doomtastic and steeped in old timey doom ethos. He knows how to craft a thunderous lead and use it as a weapon of mass destruction. While solos and showy fret-work clearly aren’t his bag, he does his doomy duty and delivers the gloomy goods in workmanlike fashion. Sadly, as a vocalist, he doesn’t do much to excite or impress. He has a rather monotone, chant/shout style which doesn’t add much to the material’s impact. He doesn’t hurt things, but doesn’t elevate them either. This issue is partially alleviated by the mix, which brings the guitars way upfront and submerges the vox into the background. Still, a better vocal performance would make the songs pop a bit more.

As good as some of this material is, Misery Wizard would have benefited from a bit more diversity in tempo and song dynamics. The long song lengths, paired with a single-minded devotion to super slow riff-play, wear the listener out when there’s no break or respite from the doom-o-thon. Even the best riffs can be overused and eventually beaten into the ground and that happens a bit too often here.

Misery Wizard is a good debut by some promising doomsters. If they progress as songwriters and the Wizard works on his vocal approach, I can see highly depressing things in their glum future. If you cotton to the slow-motion bludgeoning of Reverend Bizarre, Saint Vitus or YOB, this should be right up your alley. You might want to bring some coffee along on the journey though, just in case.

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I guarantee you the guys from Soen have to brace themselves for every review they’re going to read for two reasons. The first of these is that this band contains Steve DiGiorgio—heavy metal’s best bassist and best fretless for hire—and oh, right, Martin Lopez who we last saw as a member of Opeth. I have to say that I’m partial to these two guys as musicians (nothing against Ax, but Lopez is a special drummer) and so when I heard that this record was coming out I did some begging and got me a copy for review. Apparently there are other musicians in this band, but we don’t actually care The rest of the band is made up of by two Swedish guys—Eklöf, the vocalist and Platsbarzdis, the guitarist—for what is a four piece of alternative or kind of groovy progressive metal. Not progressive like Opeth or Vintersorg or Porcupine Tree but progressive like Tool. And by that I mean, they sound exactly like fucking Tool (that’s the second reason). 

It is undeniable, no matter how much one wants it to be, that this is a band that just simply sounds like Tool. You gotta get that out of the way. This Joel Eklöf sounds a lot like Maynard (though his accent totally reminds me of Åkerfeldt, whose accent I’d never thought about before). And frankly, the guitar work and the writing reminds me of Ænima and Lateralus a lot. There’s a lilt to the guitars and a slow groove to the bass. The fretless bass differentiates it a bit, but the tone and the production is really similar. And, frankly, Lopez is the kind of drummer who can also pull off Danny Carey’s tribal style as a backup—but of course still have his own style. He does this deftly and some of the most enjoyable parts of this album are performed on the drums and percussion which are outstanding.

So it’s with a bit of cognitive dissonance that I rate this as highly as I do, but sometimes you cannot deny good songs. And, well, these guys write some great fucking songs. There’s the groove stuff—straight up Tool worship like “Savia” and “Fraccions” which has a guitar part that is totally a “Schism” rip off. There’s the parts where they really break out the heavy end—not super often but it does happen like the life alterningly crushing riff from “Slither” after the acoustic breakdown or the beginning of “Oscillation” (or on “Canvas”). And then there’s Eklöf’s vocal proclivities. While he undeniably sounds like Maynard, one of the things that he does amazingly well is melody and harmonies. The end of the aforementioned “Fraccions” has some of the most heart-breakingly beautiful harmonies I’ve heard on a record and they’re simply amazing. The following track “Dalenda” has a chorus where, again, he shows off these harmonies and by the time I made it to the next track down the line “Last Light” and he broke ‘em out again, I was pretty much convinced.

In fact, it is the vocals that take this record from pretty good to great (or maybe even excellent). The songs are well-constructed, but highly derivative. And while the vocals are veeery Maynard, Eklöf’s performance and harmonies are the glue that hold all of this together. Unfortunately, the lyrics seem like they’re a little on the not-so-interesting side which is a shame. Instead of ripping off Tool‘s schtick and writing about philosophy and high-minded mumbo jumbo, they mainly seem to be writing about drugs. I might be wrong, but no one gave me any lyrics to check it out, so there you be.

In its totality, though, Cognitive is a pretty damn great record. While it is too derivative and it’s too easy to point out the source they’re plagiarizing (creativity is just well-disguised plagiarism—or like we used to say in my old band “People think we sound original because we rip off Amon Amarth, Ulver and Iron Maiden all at once!”), and so it’s hard for me to give this a higher score because of what I see as a lack of originality, there is an x factor here that bands that are just ripping someone else off simply do not have. The songwriting is great and it is a testament to Eklöf’s performance that I focused on him in a band where he’s playing with Martin Lopez and Steve DiGiorgio. So check this out and don’t write it off when you say “Oh, man, this sounds like Tool.” Give it some time and maybe the dissonance will give way and lead to bliss instead.

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Time and time again, I have berated black metal as an institution. Partially because it is so institutionalized that it seems to have lost its teeth and inventiveness, and partially ’cause where it does seem to be advancing is into areas that I think are boring. So, I’m not exactly the guy who you should be looking to for your black metal needs (my flash in the pan status among the young and hip is evidence enough of that). I require things to not suck move a little faster, have a little more action and not be generally cliché and irritating. Wildernessking (formerly known as Heathens and hailing from South Africa) is all of these things, while not falling into the clichés of a scene past its prime. While the band has moved on a bit from the black n’ roll origins of their first demo Oh, Mock the Heavens and Let the Heathens Sing, they offer up with their new full length The Writing of Gods in the Sand, a remarkable slab of inventive black metal, whatever way you want to slice it.

I knew from the first couple minutes of opening track “Rubicon” (which you can listen to here) that I was going to love what followed. Starting with the savage, primal screams of bassist Keenan Nathan Oakes, these guys don’t wait a second to knock you back on your heels before settling into some of the coolest Enslaved riffing since Vertebrae. This track, and those that follows, vary between mid-paced atmospheric black metal, blast happy black metal and a more melancholy, slower side that will definitely get them lumped into the post-black metal movement by writers and critics (fair or otherwise). But where the darlings of the post-black metal scene tend to bore me with long passages and too much mind-numbing repetition, The Writing of Gods in the Sand balances upon that ledge, mixing up writing structures, feels and atmosphere while being able to knock out riffs and melodies that drill into the listeners skin with razor sharp hooks and pull tight.

Though, it is the post-black/sludge elements that I find the least appealing to this record (and the reason it’s not just straight up perfect). After the opening track “Rubicon,” the follow up “Discovery” follows and it almost lost me. Slow, sludgy and atmospheric, the track goes on for nearly 10 minutes—and half of that would have been stretching it in my opinion. Fortunately, the rest of the album—while it does get into this sort of doomy or sludgy riffing from time to time—avoids falling into this trap. My other complaint is that a lot of the straight forward rocking riffs on the Heathens demos have gone missing—but it’s not like there’s a lack of musical quality or something. It is the riffs (check out “Utopia”), their catchiness and the consistency of the songwriting that hold this album together as a whole.

So aside from one song that I think could probably be done away with entirely to make this a perfect album The Writings of Gods in the Sand is easily one of the best black metal records I’ve heard in ages. The production is clean and balanced, but the writing makes it raw—while balancing it with beautiful melodies and fragile sounds. The name Wildernessking fits The Writings of Gods in the Sand perfectly, as it reflects an image of the natural world: balanced between the harsh realities of life and death and the stark beauties and the dangers that lurk inside of them.

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Historically speaking, I think the main reason our esteemed AMG hired me, the ever humble Steel Druhm, as a reviewer/minion [I prefer the term "bitch," actually - AMG] was to make me the resident power and traditional metal nerd (my amazing prose and rugged good looks didn’t hurt none either). While I’m predisposed to drool over most old school stuff (cause I’m old), I’m actually quite the elitist snob when it comes to power metal. There’s some good in that genre, but there are way more generic, bad and monumentally awful things lurking in the ether. Case in point, I’ve had a love/hate/meh relationship with Iron Fire over the years. Their Thunderstorm debut was decent and moderately rabble rousing, but things have been inconsistent since then and their discography reads like the good, the bad and the WTF? After being unmoved by their past few releases, I hoped for more from their seventh release, Voyage of the Damned. Turns out, I heartily appreciate the new lyrical slant toward outer space themes, as it’s a nice diversion from the usual “dragon ate my wizard’s maiden” schtick. It’s also safe to say, this is much better than expected and it slowly won me over, despite initial doubts. Roping in elements of Gamma Ray, Stratovarius, Grave Digger and Metalium, this features some highly enjoyable  Euro-power with some surprisingly heavy moments. It also delivers far less generic freight than past Iron Fire shipments. While not exactly a “must hear” album, Voyage ends up being a solid release from a band with a spotty track record. 

Opener “Enter Oblivion OJ-666″ (O.J. Simpson?) is a tried-and-true Euro stomper with zippy double base, energetic riffing, glossy keys and the familiar vocal stylings of Martin Steene. The chorus is big and uplifting and Steene channels Bruce Dickinison in his delivery thereof. It’s good stuff and highly worthwhile. Other noteworthy ditties include the addictive and interestingly heavy approach of ”Slaughter of Souls” (replete with death roars from David Ingram of Bolt Thrower), the blend of pompous and brutal in “Leviathan” and the gritty Tad Morose stylings of “Dreams of the Dead Moon” and “Verge to Collide.” A guilty pleasure worth mentioning is the superbly overwrought power ballad “The Final Odyssey,” which comes across like a mash-up of Queensryche‘s “Screaming in Digital” and “The Final Countdown” by AMG’s much beloved Europe (kindly enjoy the Captain Kirk delivery of lines like “I can’t… compute”). While the ten-minute-plus title track underwhelmed at first, it did grow on me with repeated listens. That said, it does too little over too long a duration to justify the length. Elsewhere, “With Different Eyes,” while not bad, doesn’t really hold my interest.

What makes this material work is the straight forward nature of the delivery. It’s heavier than most power metal these days and the riffs often have real heft and punch. While there’s plenty of keyboard work scattered about, it doesn’t make the music sound as if it should be wearing a pink tutu. Steene’s delivery has been too nasal for me in the past, but he sounds mighty fine here and shows some real versatility as well. Sometimes he sports a Dickinsonian flair, other times he uses a rough, raspy delivery reminiscient of Urban Breed (ex-Tad Morose/ex-Bloodbound) or Nils Patrik Johansson (Wuthering Heights/Astral Doors). At times it actually sounds like one or both of them are singing along with him. The death vox add some interesting flair as well. They’re worked into the songs well, in much the same way as on Threshold‘s “Slipstream,” and they add an extra layer of grit and baddassery.

This was an unexpected surprise from a band I’d all but written off and consigned to irrelevance. While it likely won’t convert anyone to power metal wonkhood, it’s well done, well-written stuff with a few sincere attempts at originality. In a genre rife with fluff, fruit and frill, this comes as a welcome dose of actual power and actual metal, with no dragons anywhere in sight (except maybe on the cover… dammit! [That's a sandworm, dude. C'mon. AMG]). Well, you gotta keep the LARPers happy, I guess.

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Liberteer is the brainchild of one Matt Widener, who the more grind-minded among you might remember as the bassist for San Jose sickos Cretin. Cretin’s lone album, 2006’s Freakery, received high praise at the time, but they’ve been laying low since then while their singer goes through some changes. During his new-found free time, Widener has put together Liberteer on his own, playing all instruments on this album, including guitars, drums, and… banjo? [Hey, if Høst can do it, so can Widener - AMG]

Here’s where it gets interesting. [You had me at "banjo" - AMG] Throughout Better To Die On Your Feet… there are many passages incorporating horns, flutes, percussion, and yes, banjo. A gimmick, you say? Bullshit. I mean, if all those pagan metal bands can have folk instruments alongside drums and guitars, and Sepultura has been using Brazilian percussion for years, why wouldn’t an American, revolution-themed project make use of revolution-era American music?

Though, gimmick or not, it doesn’t really matter, because any doubters will be silenced (or instantly killed) by the opening shitkicker “Build No System.” The straightforward grind tracks on this album could level a house, but the orchestrated sections feel like charging into battle. What’s even cooler is that parts of the instrumental themes pop up repeatedly throughout the album, tying everything together nicely (and apparently the CD version comes with this handy chart! How awesome is that?) If Ken Burns had gotten Misery Index to score those Civil War documentaries, it would probably be kind of like this.

Of course, with any worthwhile grind record, the message is just as important as the music. So what exactly is the Liberteer manifesto? Does Widener want you to attend a local Occupy rally? Would he prefer that you buy your groceries locally instead of at Walmart? Let’s take a look at these lyrics (from the track “99 to 1”): “to be happy, god damn it, kill those who own property / to be happy, god damn it, cut the priests in two / and answer to no one, not even god above / for if real we’d need to kill him too”. Clearly, this dude is looking at the bigger picture. He demands complete freedom from any and all oppression, and he would like that freedom NOW, thank you very much. He’s also barking out these lyrics like Barney Greenway being chased by a pack of Rottweilers, which raises the intensity factor considerably.

My only possible gripe with this record is that each song leads directly into the next, essentially creating one 27-minute-long track. People complain enough about how all grind songs sound the same anyway, and attaching them together Human Centipede-style [Angry Metal Guy thanks you for the imagery - AMG] certainly doesn’t help. Then again, these tracks are all connected by repeated musical themes anyway, so laying them out this way does make sense.

Overall, this record is outstanding in a “what the fuck just happened?” sort of way. Whether you agree with Widener’s political views (or his liberal use of banjo), there is no denying that this is a pretty unique album, grind or otherwise. Widener has both tremendous musical abilities and strong political convictions, and the combination is devastating. So whether you’ve been holding out for that Napalm Death bluegrass album, or you just want something furious to listen to while the United States circles the drain, Liberteer might be just the thing for you.

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You need a certain amount of courage to name your album Death in 2012, don’t you? I mean this is one of, if not the, most used words in the metal world altogether and it usually reminds lots of fans with Chuck Schuldiner’s seminal band with the same name. On the personal level, I still find myself a little baffled by Ram’s title of choice for their third studio album in thirteen years of making heavy metal. Then again, some may ask me “but what’s in a name?” and I find myself remembering some awesome and meaningful titles like Oblivion Beckons by Byzantine, The Atrocity Exhibition…  Exhibit A by Exodus or Mumakil’s Behold the Failure and realizing that there’s a lot in a name.

Death sounds like a pretty straightforward record that lugs the crunchy guitar sound, muddy bass guitar & bass drum sound and that overall grittiness of heavy metal. So having not been familiar with Ram prior to this album, Death didn’t surprise me much because I didn’t really expect it to. There have been some moments that stood out for me, like the very good lead guitar work on “Comes From the Mouth Beyond” and “Release Me”. “Defiant” is all about the triplets and it keeps chugging away in threes as if it’s the only way to do business. “Frozen” is a traditionally structured ballad placed neatly in the middle of the album to turn the pace down a little bit, but much for my dismay, it gave way to the rather toothless “Under the Scythe” which didn’t create the desired contrast.

“1771” and “Flame of the Tyrant” have some bad ass riffs but that’s not really the center point of skill on display here. The only obvious proof for said skill that I could find was the solos. Copious amounts of said proof are on display throughout Death. The solo on the impressive “Comes From the Mouth Beyond” was the first one that caught my attention but a few extra listens brought the ones from “Defiant” and the aforementioned “Flame of the Tyrant” to my attention as well. The vocals are generally above average and convey an air of leather-clad confidence that linearly increases with every beer. They are, however, a bit too far in the foreground and draw more attention than they actually deserve. This increased emphasis on the vocals distracts the listener from the instruments being played behind it, but on many occasions, not much is happening there anyway. 

The fellows from Ram are by no means reinventing the old heavy metal wheel, and if they had intended to do so, they’re way off with Death.  As for individual skill, the guitar section will have to come in first for me and that is the result of the intelligent solos and riffs that still carry the stench of 80s heavy metal. When all is said and done, Death is an album that provides some good moments but doesn’t really have a distinctive character to set it apart from the norm.

Related posts:

1. Death Maze – Prodigy of Death Review
2. Impious – Death Domination Review
3. Demonical – Death Infernal Review

Sweden this, U.S.A. that. Its always the same countries churning out the metal that lands on the cluttered desk of Steel Druhm. Sure, every now and then a Middle Eastern or Asian act tosses a spiked glove in the ring, but it’s predomiantly Europe and the Americas tasked with carrying the metal standard these days. That’s why its such a treat when we get a promo from someplace new and exotic. Nothnegal clearly qualifies, since they hail from the tiny Maldive Islands, way out in the Indian Ocean (their location is actually listed as an atoll, which counts as mega-exotic). Decadence is their first full length and its all about modern melodic death with loads of keys, bells and whistles. They take the basic melo-death concept and mix in semi-industrial Fear Factory-like riffing, loads of electronic effects, keys and even synthesized guitars. The big mystery is how this remote isle act wrangled drum services from Kevin Talley (Six Feet Under, ex-Hate Eternal, ex-The Black Dahlia Murder) and keys by Marco Sneck (Poisonblack, ex-Kalmah, ex-Charon). Sounds interesting so far, right? Well, it may be interesting, but sadly, it ain’t too good. Despite the endless array of interesting keyboard noodling and effects, things never really work out and Decadence quickly sinks below the waves of mediocrity. This is a real shame, since there are some interesting ideas on hand and some talented folks involved. But, as the saying goes, no band is an island (sorry, island jokes are rough going).

As soon as things kick off, two big problems become all too clear. The first being an overproduced, glossy, nu-metal guitar tone which sounds awful generally, but especially when put through an endless series of Fear Factory-style staccato, machine gun riffs. They started annoying me before I could spell “nu” (and I’m a fast speller). Right alongside the bad guitars are the equally bad vocals of Avo. Mr. Avo goes for a hybrid of a “screamy” style and a more “true” death grunt. It doesn’t work for me at all and drags the whole enterprise down to Atlantis. Tracks like “Salvation” and “Claymore” have legitimately cool musical ideas and at times, sound like left-overs from Omnium Gatherum‘s epic New World Shadows, but the vocals and the metalcore chug-a-lugging come chug-a-lugging along to kill everything. Songs like “Janus” and the title track never seem to go anywhere and just drag along with sub-par, screamy vox and mindlessly mechanical chugging.

They shake things up a bit with some Exodus-like thrash on “Armageddon” and then  throw a big curveball with the last two songs, which adopt clean singing and totally different styles. “Sins of Our Creations” isn’t much different from what Redemption is doing these days, while “Singularity” is spacey, semi-proggy, light metal. While they get points for diversity (and retiring the  death vox), it seems a strange way to end the album and it leaves things feeling a bit disjointed.

As mentioned above, the quasi-death vocals are terrible and trigger a reaction in my medulla oblongata not unlike road rage. The guitar work from Hilarl and Fufu (ha ha ha, Fufu) is painfully metalcore-ish, samey and boring for most of Decadence. They do uncork some interesting leads and solos here and there (“Claymore,” “Armageddon”) but it isn’t frequent enough to overcome the weight of the extensive chuggery. The keyboards by Marco are quite solid and keep this from dropping into the total shite zone (though some of the effects sound like they belong on a Stabbing Westward album). Sadly, they also serve to highlight what might have been if the rest of Nothnegal elevated their game accordingly.

While not a winning debut, these islanders have the beginnings of a cool sound. If they can fix the vocals and ditch the brain-numbing riffing, they may be ready for primetime. Until then, they sound like a third-rate, core-ish version of Omnium Gatherum, best relegated to cast away status and forgotten. As harsh as this review may seem, I’m pulling for these Maldive metallers to  bounce back strong, like Wilson, the smiley soccer ball! We need more exotic metal these days.

Related posts:

1. Decaying – Encirclement Review
2. Eradication – Dreams of Reality Review
3. Insomnium – One for Sorrow Review