“I went back (and forward) through the Death discography, and I quickly became enamored by Chuck Schuldiner’s skill, passion, and ability to gather phenomenally talented musicians together to create an audible snapshot of his brilliant mind on each successive album. Well, after only a few minutes of listening to Unending Futility by Live Burial, it becomes quite clear that the British band shares my affinity for Chuck’s music.” Death unburied.
“Length alone does not a smart song make. Anyone can throw a dozen disparate riffs together without rhyme or reason under the pretense of progressive songwriting. That’s what’s kind of amazing about Wardaemonic’s fourth LP, Acts of Repentance. These songs aren’t necessarily clever, but what they lack in songwriting tact is made up for by a dense, captivating atmosphere.” Repentance, then war.
“I thought I was done writing about 2019 records, so when this one fell into my lap from on high, I was rather surprised and excited.” Stockings stuffed with death.
“Beneath each review posted on this hallowed website, a little comment swamp forms. They vary in size and depravity but in nearly everyone, a debate of some kind ensues. The other day, in just such a swamp, I expressed the — perhaps controversial — view that I like it when black metal bands infuse their music with different influences, sometimes straying into different genres. There I gave examples of post-metal and prog. Well, step forward and take a bow Bednja, who bill themselves as black metal hardcore.” Tales from the hard (dark)side.
“Since we got ourselves into the whole album premiere business not too long ago, I wondered what kind of album it would take to warrant a premiere of my own. Shockingly, I didn’t have to wait very long. Thanks to a certain Muppety influence, I acquired was deemed just barely worthy of access to a monumental death-doom album that very quickly rose to the top of my year-end contenders list. Imagine my sadistic ecstasy as I rushed to resuscitate The Drowning from the promo pool, only to discover that one sparkly sponge absorbed the Assign To bubble weeks beforehand. Joy Accordia! I’ll not be forgiven for this, not for an eternity.” Drinking deeply of despair.
“Around twelve years ago, I procured a guitar and amp. I messed around for awhile, learning some Iced Earth riffs and some Sabaton solos, but children life got in the way, my priorities changed, and my skills regressed to nothing. Alas, I’ve still never written the power/thrash/doom masterpiece that I always imagined I would. Contrast my experience with Mr. Rogga Johansson, whose unquenchable need to make music has led to his name being credited on approximately 100 different works on Metal Archives, with three full-lengths and two EPs already released this year alone, and he’s back with the latest from his oldest active project, Paganizer.” Morbid tales of time management.
“Everybody knows a local band like Chicago’s Bones. If you attend small scale metal shows in your vicinity with any sort of regularity, you know them well: a groove oriented death metal band, often fresh off work, that seems to open every show regardless of whether they fit the bill. This results in often hilarious pairings, including my recent bewilderment at Kansas City’s death/doomsters Pulchra Morte opening for Gloryhammer of all bands. Bones is the very embodiment of that same working class energy, but as they fall under the eclectic umbrella of Transcending Obscurity, curveballs are to be expected.” Boning it in.
“Esogenesi is an elemental doom machine that grinds along like heavy earth mover equipment, alternating between standard death doom and a more funerary style. The band is a classic four piece of vocals, guitar, bass and drums with each member sticking to their role. When I say they are no-frills, I don’t mean they lack creativity, rather they let each instrument stand on its own as an irreducible component.” Weights of the world.
“Every Entombed clone thought of themselves as carrying on a lineage, writing riffs in the vein of their favorite albums—not being derivative or boring as we may find some of them. This disconnect is fascinating—an album we may hear and not give a second thought to afterward likely consumed weeks, months, years of every member of the band’s life. When this comes to mind, my chief question about middling releases is ‘why?'” Dead again.
“I decided to atone for this cowardice by chugging some audible sludge in the form of Damned in Endless Night, the third full-length album from British wrecking crew Warcrab. I don’t listen to much sludge but the choice band name, impeccable logo, and Bolt Thrower comparison in the promo lured me into the Warcrab pot, and the musical chum I found within was so good that I couldn’t escape—nor would I want to.” Wharf arts.
