![Aphotic – Abyssgazer [Things You Might Have Missed 2023]](https://www.angrymetalguy.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/Aphotic-Abyssgazer-01.jpg.webp)
“Abyssgazer presents as the kind of echoing incantation that must ring through ears from first to last note. No mere synthesis of the acts who fed Aphotic into existence, this sometimes blackened, sometimes funeral doom-weighted, always death metal assembly expresses itself in a peerless manner.” Abyss from a dead rose.
“Power. No, not power in the flamboyant nature of a curl-adorned Italian cosplayer wielding sword to fire-breathing dragon. Power. The fast-twitch response to anticipating joints bearing weighted-iron that engorges relaxed fibers with blood, with breath—this is where Harm’s Way lives. Straight-edge, hardcore, beatdown, just a few of the words that explain Chicago’s own and their method of compressed and concerted attack.” In gainz way.
“Tons of things have been said about industrial pioneers Godflesh. Unrelentingly brutal. Hypnotically trance-inducing. Pairs alarmingly well with Destiny’s Child. Whatever your stance or point of reference, there’s no denying the long-standing Birmingham duo have carved their way into the minds and hearts of the industrial scene since their arrival in the late 80s, and have bludgeoned and captivated over the course of eight highly-influential albums.” Streetcleaning or street cluttering?
“Smashing together the legacy talents of performers from Therapy? (Andy Cairns), Sex Swing (Jason Stoll), Petbrick (Wayne Adams), and Three Trapped Tigers (Adam Betts), one would expect Supercluster to live up to its namesake in wild, noise-drenched grandeur.” UTINI!!
“Before we dive headfirst into today’s induction, I want to address the impressively large, off-salmon-colored pachyderm that’s currently occupying a large space in the corner of the room. Black metal, especially in the late nineties and early 2000s, wasn’t all that terrifying, despite what their chief songwriters would have you believe. Behind all the church arsons, bullshit posturing, literal back-stabbing, racism, homophobia, xenophobia, and murder, the music didn’t even come close to attaining a faint whiff of what they were trying to achieve aesthetically.” And then, transformation.
“Bloodbox don’t give two fucks about convention, throwing the ole rule book out the window in favor of chopped-up experimentation and a mangled deconstruction of their grind-infused industrial core. These mysterious masked avengers tip their hats to their rabid punky roots of old school grind, while bringing to mind the industrial grind assault of Aussie alchemists, The Berzerker.” Put your hand in this box.
“Wyoming, famously, hosts some of the United States’ most beautiful nature preserves—also famously it lacks urban comforts and is one of the two rectangular states. This expansive, rural landscape shapes an existence and mindset that’s decidedly different from the metropolitan portrait of tap-to-pay cafes, melting pot crowds, and city-speed sprawl. For better or worse, Mike McClatchey has called Buffalo, Wyoming temporarily home—a home that has fueled his boiled-over frustrations into this more solo edition of Lament Cityscape, A Darker Discharge.” Rural rabies.
“For as generally tired and played out the genre has become as of late, black metal pairs exceptionally well with a cornucopia of disparate genres. Sure, we all know that it goes together with death metal, like a harmonious, spiked-gauntleted, and dog-food-promoting Reese’s peanut butter cup. Doom, however, seems like a stranger chocolate for our humbled corpse-painted nut butter of dubious origins. Something about not only the speed involved, but also the “hurry up and get to the fucking point, already” aspect of doom that would, on the surface at least, seem contradictory to the icy, tremolo-infested sound that birthed many a hooded sweatshirt-clad frost-dweller. Thankfully, we have German quintet Praise the Plague.” Gate creepers.
“Every year, January is the token month when seemingly every label releases all their one-person black metal projects en masse, and it usually falls on my furry shoulders to find new, creative ways to say, yet again, how a band sounds like certain outfits we no longer talk about. But no, not this year! This year, this damn January, Leeched saw fit to release To Dull the Blades of Your Abuse, the hotly anticipated (by me, at least) follow-up to their impressive debut, 2018’s You Took the Sun When You Left. I was eagerly awaiting filthy, undulating industrialized hardcore with so much dirt and grime that not even a lifetime supply of either Dove soap or Orbit gum could ever clean or freshen up.” Dirty deeds.
“In this decade, death metal doubled down on its inaccessibility and became all the better for it. Whether that inaccessibility finds expression through old school pummeling or the more abstract sounds of the genre’s new torch-bearers, it’s hard to see the scene as unhealthy or in any way tamed. It wasn’t always like this, though. The 2000s were not so kind to death metal and at the tail end of that decade a scramble to reinvigorate the genre produced acres of lackluster material that was largely defined by its relationship to Meshuggah.” Negative, Ghostrider.
