“Antichrist Siege Machine paints the gates of metal with the blood of Christendom. Subtlety is not their strongest trait. Berserk and bludgeoning attacks, void of humanity, are at the core of this Virginian duo’s battering ram. Antichrist Siege Machine’s debut full-length, 2019’s Schism Perpetration, kick-started their brainless siege against nuance. The record is 28-minutes of celestial warfare fetishization. Blazing chariots rip through flesh, worshipers are disemboweled on altars, Satan opens up his fiery pit wherever he pleases, and a general state of empyrean slaughter is captured through deep, churning metal. The war against Christendom is unrelenting and Antichrist Siege Machine has spotted another chance for carnage.” Blade in full.
Akerblogger
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.
Wormwood – Arkivet Review
“Sweden’s Wormwood received a lot of love after the release of their debut Ghostlands: Wounds from a Bleeding Earth. In my 2017 review, I described it as moving “with a ghostly smoothness that ebbs, flows, rises and falls with a mixture of beauty and malice that only impresses.” It is still in frequent rotation on the Akerblogger music machine. In 2019, the melodic folk-black wonders released Nattarvet. Hopes were high and the record didn’t hit quite as hard. It was solid but safe, less wild and fizzing and more restrained and balanced. It’s 2021 and Wormwood is back.” Wood fatigue.
Fyrnask – VII-Kenoma Review
“When I think of the sprawling extreme metal bands that I admire the most – The Ruins of Beverast, Urfaust, Spectral Lore, Blut Aus Nord and Darkspace a handful – I picture their music as labyrinthine cathedrals: their domes, spires and towers encrusted in shadowy depth; their facades etched in malicious secrets, crafted meticulously over hundreds of years; a visitor’s footsteps echoing minutely against the leering iconography of the interior walls. Using rough raw material, the best bands craft cathedrals of splendor that loom over the scene with menacing authority. Many bands, too many bands, attempt to recreate the fine detail of the best. They try, but the foundation of their place of worship is fractured and cheap to begin with. The finished product stands tall for a brief moment in time, but as the wind changes the structure falls – they lack the intricacy, the balance, the transitions. Another band on the rubble heap. On a plot of land somewhere in the East of Germany another architect lays the first stones of a new creation. Fyrnask has experience.” Building toward destruction.
Bongzilla – Weedsconsin Review
“It’s high noon. Sweet Mary Jane is at the wheel. Her best bud Bongzilla is in the passenger seat. Master of Reality is rattling through the truck’s rusty speakers. The sun is setting. They’ve hit the jackpot. After sixteen years in a distant haze, Bongzilla is back. Muleboy (bass/vocals), Spanky (guitar) and Magma (drums) have awoken from their dazed slumber. Sixteen years is like sixty years in stoner time and a lot has changed. For one, the recreational use of cannabis has been legalized in many more states. Bongzilla is still on a mission for fweedom, however.” Weed the children.
Chain Gang Grave – Cement Mind Review
“Chain Gang Grave are dressed in the grit and grime of their home: Brooklyn. Cement Mind is an unhinged creature that fires out a thumping hybrid of death metal and punk. In a sense, Cement Mind sounds like a crusty late 80’s demo unearthed, for the first time, from the basement of an old school tape wizard.” Blockheads.
Hiraki – Stumbling Through The Walls Review
“Synths are the future. It’s only logical now that the guitar, an antique device used by nostalgic, decrepit moshers in back-alley dive bars, is disowned. The guitar is dead. Long live the synth. Long live, especially, synthpunk and noise rock which, in the wake of that new, hip arcade game Cyberpunk 2077, is the in thing. In the satellite station of Aarhaus, Denmark – 166 cosmomiles north-east of Copenhagen – a young band by the name of Hiraki corrupt data by producing an abyssal synth-punk noise that takes influence from the likes of Daughters, Street Sects, and The Body.” Wall-E-core.
Cambion – Conflagrate the Celestial Refugium Review
“There’s a lot going on in death metal: there’s the swampy, smelly, drag-your-corpse through the mire old school sort; there’s the cosmic, existential, ponder-the-time-signatures-of-the-universe sort; there’s the thrown down, bro town, drag-your-grandma-through-the-pit sort; there’s the corpse riding, shriek gliding, casual-blasphemy-on-a-weekday kind. Then, there’s also death metal – the angry sort that starts angry and stays angry. Cambion’s gimmick is angriness and speed.” Spree-Cambion era.
Myopic & At The Graves – A Cold Sweat of Quiet Dread Review
“Collaborations between artists are usually a tantalizing prospect. In recent years we’ve had a handful of high-quality collaborations: Cult of Luna and Julie Christmas, Thou and Emma Ruth Rundle, and Spectral Lore and Mare Cognitum the cream of the recent crop. Collaborations can be tricky, especially in the age of the supervirus and restricted travel. Communication of ideas is vital. A collaboration can either sound like a blissful mesh of an artist’s best traits or a haphazard collision of distant sound. Ben Price, the sole member of doom/sludge project At The Graves, has buried himself in a casket with the sludge/black/death/you-name-it three piece Myopic. A Cold Sweat of Quiet Dread is their first collaborative full-length.” Blood, sweat, graves, and bad eyesight.
Culted – Nous Review
“Some of the most dense and horrible sounding music is beautiful. There’s beauty in the expression of extreme emotions, a vulnerability perhaps. It’s strangely alluring when a singer screams their lungs out without a care in the world. We all hold close to our hearts those special tracks that feature a riff or transition that pummels you to the ground for no good reason. These moments in music are special. For me, they often appear during records that carry a hefty sense of despair. Up steps the Canadian-Swedish outfit Culted. Despair is their game and Nous is their third full-length.” CultedER.