“Loudness is a weapon. Many great sludge bands know that. Amplified judiciously, altered maliciously, sludge has the potential to be gargantuan, overwhelming—the thick ooze of a proper harmonized rumble can leave your innards sufficiently massaged with low-end pleasure. Morbid Evils knows this well, with previous encounters showering us with growling guitars moving at a funeral pace against a drowned-out, stoner backdrop. While changes across their previous outings arrived at a tectonic pace, Supernaturals erupts this mighty Finnish trio into a form that is far more visceral.” Are you loud and morbid?
Conan
Conan – Evidence of Immortality Review
“Conan, destined to wear the jeweled crown of Aquilonia upon a heavy brow, leaned into the wood and pushed. Long had they been lashed to the Wheel of Pain, sinews straining to honor their commitment to King Riff. Lo these many years did Conan’s toil yield downtuned sacrifices to the King, great heaving plates of troo doom crashing into each other as the sound of their collision rose to the clouds to challenge the thunder itself. Mighty indeed were Conan’s labors, and yet, as they strained against the Wheel, Conan couldn’t help but wonder: Is this all there is? Is it meant that I should spend my days cranking out an endless chain of plodding tribute? What is to be Conan’s and only Conan’s?” Crom as you are.
Bloodstock Open Air 2021 Review: Pandemic Festival Pandemonium
“In the words of Rob Halford during Judas Priest’s two-hour headline slot: “Britain’s premier heavy metal festival is back.” Yes, cranky Covid’s delta wave dangerously hovered over the pit like clouded sweat but after a few strong ciders and a crunching riff – experienced live for the first time in over 18 months – the external world became a distant memory.” Metal never dies.
Crypt Monarch – The Necronaut Review
“Sometimes, you need something a little bit different. Other times, you need something a lot a bit different. In times other than those, you need a lot of somethings a lot a bit different. This is one of those times for me; for whatever reason, I’m not finding that 2021 is a good year for new music – at all. So I have increasingly been opening my arms and ears far and wide in an attempt to find something different, something new to excite me and rekindle the spark. This path has today led me to Crypt Monarch, a stoner doom band from Costa Rica, and The Necronaut, their debut full-length release.” Lost in Necropolis.
Holden – Ursa Minor Review
“As I’ve adjusted to 24-7 confinement with a toddler who needs constant help staying alive and a half acre property sorely in need of spring yard work, I’ve taken a little break from the AMG salt mines. It probably would have lasted longer, but the editors presented a seemingly unprecedented opportunity to review one of my fellow writers, and I’ve got a lot to say on the subject of Holden. As part of the same n00b class, I’ve had front row seats to the man, the myth, the overrating bastard, and I’ve got some bones to pick.” Holden grudges.
Old Man Lizard – True Misery Review
“If you’ve been following the Chronicles of N00b, you may remember that the last time I was let out of confinement, it was for a forced march through a symphonic winter wonderland. This, after specific requests to review my preferred genre of doom, nearly broke me (no doubt the point). But for my fifth review, I’ve been thrown a bone. Not only do England’s Old Man Lizard play doom, they play the stoner strain: ur-doom that can trace its origin to the moment Sir Lord Baltimore and Black Sabbath crawled out of the primordial ooze after the mantle cooled on Planet Caravan Metal.” Feel the scales.
Lesser Glow – Ruined Review
“The heartiest slabs of sludge evoke a menagerie of crooked emotions. The cranking monotony of a repetitive riff, drenched in reverb and ambient noise, appeals to me at a most basic level. There’s something primal in the galloping crusty thump of a Conan track, something breathtakingly heart-wrenching in the western-tones of an Inter Arma track, something honest, stark and beautiful in the unique patterns of The Melvins. Each band balances creative flair with straight-forward aggression, though. When a voluptuous and extravagant song becomes too self-indulgent a switch to crushing straight-as-an-arrow slabcraft can drag it back into the dirty pits we crave.” Into the pits!
Morbid Evils – Deceases Review
“Tantalizingly labeled as being a grind-drone hybrid, Morbid Evils — a side project of Rotten Sound vocalist and guitarist Keijo Niinimaa — doesn’t play by the rules. That’s not to say that the feelings these two extreme sub-genres stir up aren’t present. The suffocating and oppressive atmospherics found both in the gargantuan monotone sound of drone and the stifling chaos of grindcore are an ever-present force here, shifting with the force of planet sized icebergs. The name of the game is oppression and the aim of the game is to hammer the brain into a pulp.” Morbid and evil is no way to go through life, son.
Hexer – Cosmic Doom Ritual Review
“The titillating album title Cosmic Doom Ritual jumped out at me for being both a bluntly simple title and one that I expected would lead me into the atmospheric realm of my dreams. Each word stood out and beckoned me. Cosmic: I love all things space — Darkspace, Mare Cognitum, and Midnight Odyssey; Doom: I love all things, well, doom; Ritual: I love anything reminiscent of the primal sound of early Neurosis and Isis. These three things combined made me froth at the mouth like a dog with rabies.” Into the void with rabid dogs.
Slomatics – Future Echo Returns Review
“A blanket of smoke and incense billows from an attic-bedroom conversion as Electric Wizard makes a rare appearance from his occult abode to make a sandwich or to record an episode of Most Haunted. Conan sits in the garage and uses his sharp fingernails to shape mythical creatures out of wood, sporadically bellowing songs of war into the night, begrudgingly quieting down when his mother threatens to take away his copy of The Silmarillion. Slomatics is the younger brother of the two aforementioned doomsters. He spends his time gazing into the stars, reading Frank Herbert, Philip. K. Dick and H.G. Wells, and exploring the Moog that his father found for cheap at the car boot sale.” At home with the Slows.