“Another year has passed us by. As 2019 drifts to memory, I contemplate all the love the AMG community has shown me, a now somewhat less maligned contributor to a respected forum of metal journalism, feeling the love, feeling the camaraderie, feeling the–oh shit, there’s a review due this week?” Better get to it before the Task Monkey gets to you.
![Abyssal – A Beacon in the Husk [Things You Might Have Missed 2019]](https://www.angrymetalguy.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/12/Abyssal-A_Beacon_in_the_Husk-2019-768x766.jpg){kind=tracking}
“Dissonant death metal is a polarizing style, one whose purposes are often unclear. While it encompasses a variety of interpretations, its beginnings in Immolation and Demilich can be summed up in its attempted balance of malice and menace. British death metal act Abyssal’s fourth full-length A Beacon in the Husk is the perfection of this balance: a sunless journey into the depths of the abyss, guided by its philosophical lyricism and patient dynamics.” Void tunes.
![Hwwauoch – Into the Labyrinth of Consciousness [Things You Might Have Missed 2019]](https://www.angrymetalguy.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/12/Hwwauoch-Into_the_Labyrinth_of_Consciousness-768x768.jpg)
“I’m beginning to see a trend as 2019 draws to a close: I like me some weird-ass black metal. And, boy howdy, has 2019 has been a weird-ass year for it. Prolifically, having released a new album from each of its equally weird-ass projects by means of several record labels, the Prava Kollektiv has released quality atmospheric black metal en masse: the frostbitten cosmic stylings of stalwart Arkhtinn, the dark ambient maws of the appropriately named Voidsphere, the eerie and empty musings of Mahr, and the hellish and malevolent tones of newcomer Pharmakeia. But the subject of today’s tragically overlooked album is the latest thing your cat typed walking across the keyboard: Hwwauoch.” Say again?
![Howling Giant – The Space Between Worlds [Things You Might Have Missed 2019]](https://www.angrymetalguy.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/12/Howling_Giant-The_Space_Between_Worlds-768x768.jpg)
“A true sleeper hit in every sense of the word, The Space Between Worlds’ style may not be the most innovative, but damn is it tasty. Introducing themselves with three tauntingly brief EP’s since 2015, including the hella fun two-part Black Hole Space Wizard arc, Nashville trio Howling Giant fuses the fuzz of stoner doom with the ambition of prog rock.” Between rock and a vast space.
“I showed this album cover to my high school students. Their first reaction was, /Is that the new Imagine Dragons album?’ I’m currently entering F’s for all of them. But I also realize that first impressions are often everything for the little-known guys in the promo bin. They’ve got one chance to impress, whether it be their skill set, an interesting style of music, or album art. South African sludge-groove quintet The Drift promises a neat cover, a history of prestigious live performances, and acclaim from well-known musicians. Does Seer find its groove? Or is it stuck in a rut?” Imagine Leviathans.
“I hate being sick. I recently recovered from a cold that I received from my year-old nephew that me and the Mrs. Hollow kept passing back and forth to each other ad nauseam. If a cold can be that frustrating, puking is even worse—breaking out in cold sweats and chills while worrying about keeping any form of nutrition down is truly frustrating because nothing seems to make one feel better. It’s probably even worse vomiting fire, which apparently is something Australian death metal group Ignivomous has on their mind because that’s what their name means. Must hurt.” Burning throats and ears.
“Do you remember the first time you heard Swallow the Sun’s The Morning Never Came? How those crushing tones and shattering gutturals hit you like the saddest ton of cement ever and you thought that, indeed, the light would never grace your world again? How the subtle, folky elements added a sense of longing, while the sound of waves crashing made you feel lost in a sea of hopelessness and never being found? And above all, how fucking evocative that feeling was? And how you had to go bask in the sunlight to recover from it? That’s the feeling I had when I popped in Bewailer’s debut album Where My Demise Dwells.” Swallowing more sadness.
I have nothing against Dungeons & Dragons. I do, however, have an issue with the one kid who kept me from lesson planning by ceaselessly listing off statistics of his paladin and barbarian like I was supposed to know what the fuck he was talking about. I have a resentment toward the game thanks to that kiddo, unfortunately, so I’m already prejudiced against the relatively new genre of “dungeon synth.” While it began very ambitiously, taking cues from Medieval and Renaissance music and fantasy literature, bearing a black metal aesthetic, its role as a challenging and world-building style of dark ambient has been demoted as mere soundtracks of D&D campaigns everywhere. Örnatorpet seeks to add to the dungeon synth genre, hoping to whisk listeners away to a “forgotten realm, an arcane age.”” Dungeon lounge muzak.
“He dribbles down the court, the clock winding down to an excruciating ten seconds. He fakes left and tears right, leaving his opponent stumbling. This is why the Orlando Magic drafted the Most High with their No. 1 pick, because with God, all things are possible—like a deep playoff run.” I doubt even God can conjure that up this year.
“In Cleric’s own words, their second full-length is “Swedish-style death metal that mixes in the elements of doom that [they] used to play. Think Entombed mixed with Asphyx and pepper with a pinch of Candlemass.” If this is the recipe, boy oh boy, is it tasty.” Taste the Cleric.
