“Gauging by the comments section on a recent post-metal review that I penned, it would seem that a lot of people are over anything post-y. What better way to win new fans and friends than to write up an experimental, instrumental, post-rock collective? Hmm, on reflection, this could be a hard sell.” Coffee is for closers.
“It has become all too apparent that I do not learn from my mistakes. People warned me since childhood never to trust a snake, and yet Python will mark the second time I picked promo based solely on my love for those slithery danger noodles. I’ve learned my lesson this time for sure, though. Never in my life have I encountered a shit-tastrophe as rank as Astrological Warfare, the band’s ill-conceived sophomore record.” Twice bitten.
“As I stare into the night sky, casting wishes and cigarette smoke to a lonely moon, a faint tapping sound breaks the silence and the grip of my reverie. I peer into the surrounding dark, curious as to who or what might be sharing this moment with me, but the hushed scenery offers no evidence of an intrusion. I shrug off this immaterial disruption and redirect my gaze towards my lunar companion, when something catches my eye; there, at the skirt of the moonlit lake that I’ve come to sit and think beside, stands a ghost. Before the icy grip of panic can steer my body into a flight of terror, I realize that this spectre is but a reflection in the water—and I am no less relieved.” Keep your sock puppets inside the ride at all times.
“Those of us at not familiar with Vektor shot some great shit around the AMG office bilge warmer when we first heard that Terminal Redux was going to be 73 minutes long. A thrash album coming in at over an hour long? Don’t these wankers know that I could listen to Reign in Blood two-and-a-half times instead of their shitty album? We all know how that went down. Suffice it to say that the Reign in Blood rule can at times be violated. Yet it still surprised me when Varaha took their 47-minute-long atmospheric-goth-doom-etc. album and, in stuffing another 21 minutes of orchestral interlude tracks in, somehow improved the record.” Binge without guilt.
“I have historically shown more than a little apprehension towards the post-metal tag. At first, I felt it screamed pretension, a trait that tends to break my enjoyment of music if not kept in check. Lately, though, I’ve reassessed my opinion after finding deep enjoyment of bands often placed within the post-metal spectrum—Astronoid, Downfall of Gaia, and more recently, Latitudes.” No man is Part Island.
![Witxes – Orients [Things You Might Have Missed 2018]](https://www.angrymetalguy.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/witxesorients-768x768.jpg)
“Orients spits in the face of moment-to-moment melodies and dynamism; it’s an album in the complete sense, where the overall effect is far more important. Metal as a genre is generally best depicted as grabbing and shaking its listener. Witxes, by contrast, are far more subtle and muted, yet still succeed in dominating their listeners’ attention. In fact, there is plenty of metal out there with noisy riffs and shrieked vocals which is far worse at being demanding which is testament to Witxes’ ability to do a lot with a little.” Minimalism is the new post-modernism.
“Back in 2016, Katherine Shepard, aka Norwegian/French multi-instrumentalist Sylvaine, dropped an impressive album of beautiful soundscapes in Wistful, taking the groundwork laid down by the likes of Alcest and branching out into greener, more ambient paths. In doing so, Sylvaine provided a soundtrack to some amazing memories, and when word dropped that she was working on a follow-up, to say that some of us were frothing at the bit to give it a listen would be a mild understatement.” Light in the darkness.
“Music is a visual experience for me, so much so that when I see something instrumental smoldering in the Angry Metal Heap ov Dreams, I grow curious rather than cautious. Such was the case with Cataya’s Firn, and I met its four-track challenge with all kinds of optimism: I ain’t afraid of no vox.” Less talk, more mood.
“Yes, this album cover needs a unicorn. It’s the first and foremost thing any of us noticed in the AMG World Headquarters break room. I don’t know what’s going on with this horse, but it won’t be good when and if it comes back down to earth. I suppose it’s escaping, although maybe it’s just simply jubilant. At eleven songs and over 74 minutes, is Great Escape going to make me jubilant, or am I going to want to make my escape?” Unicorn in the sky. Making little children cry.
“In many ways, this collaboration makes perfect sense. The lo-fi, chaotic-noise aesthetic of Gnaw Their Tongues is a very natural direction for the experimental drone of Crowhurst to wander off to, and vice versa. Given the prolific nature of Gnaw Their Tongues’s Maurice de Jong and Crowhurst mastermind Jay Gambit, it’s also pretty much par for the course that these two noise mongers eventually crossed paths and left some tracks in their wake.” Gnawed and miserable.
