“As summer draws near, something has been lacking. Not the patio beers, or the large gatherings, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on until the kind lads from Zedi Forder sent me their latest work, Isolation, a few weeks ago. Then I remembered what an awesome summer band these guys are.” Wherein our hero writes a blog post about his summer drinking habits. Oh, and reviews a couple weirdo metal records from the band Zedi Forder.
“The manic death metal binge continues unabated at the stately House ov Steel. Today’s subject is the second album by Denver’s death metal adventurers, Pile of Priests. Having explored a fairly conventional old school death metal approach on their 2015 Void of Enlightenment debut, the band decided to go in a more proggy direction for their eponymous sophomore outing. Apparently a concept album, it’s replete with dramatic narration, a plethora of moods, a great deal of technical finesse and a large amount of hooks.” Padre packing.
“It’s been nearly two months since I last wrote a review for a Jonny Pettersson project, so I’m long overdue for another one. I’m beginning to think that we should probably give Pettersson and fellow Swede Rogga Johansson a cool team name like ‘The Teeming Twins,’ ‘The Boys of Bounty,’ ‘The Copious Corps,’ or my favorite, ‘The Patriarchy of Profuseness.'” Snatch and jab.
“The AMG staff room—virtual only at the moment, of course, with even time in skull pit restricted to one scribe at a time—is divided sharply on sludge as a genre. Some of the hacks view it as tedious, talentless and almost beneath contempt. They are, of course, wrong. Those holding the correct view, including Cherd’s magnificent beard and yours truly, have a huge soft spot for its crushingly abrasive doom-laden awesomeness. And it’s just as well for East Vancouver natives, Heron, that it’s me reviewing this, and not one of those haters.” In sludge some trust.
“Yep. That’s a band name. Killitorous. Say it a couple times and soon you’ll see what they did there. Tasteful, right? I’ll be honest, it took me way too long to find it (ayyyy), but by that point I was already four listens into the Canadian supergroup’s sophomore record The Afterparty and was having too much fun to care about the silly double-entendre anymore. After all, we did give high marks to bands with such respectable names as Fvneral Fvkk and Shitfucker, right? So who am I to judge?” Tech-deathicus for the rest of us.
“Tokyo Blade: now there’s a name that stirs up memories. It seemed that, while Midnight Rendezvous was an above-average NWoBHM debut, the band decided to go down the hair metal path after that, to disastrous effect. Over the years, band members came and went, but album quality never rose above tepid. 2018’s Unbroken did nothing for me, and the same lineup (essentially their classic lineup from the early days) is back with Dark Revolution.” Olden steel.
“It’s a bumper year for cheesehead tech-death. Just two months after Aronious’s hyperactive tech/prog Perspicacity, the usually sleepy-badger-state metal scene has another platter to offer, this time in the form of Jurisprudence, the sophomore LP from Ara.” Death precedent.
“When I hear the term “funeral doom,” several words immediately come to mind: slow, reeeally fucking slow, crushing, monolithic, etc. I am moved to many turns ov phrase in the presence of funeral doom, yet one word which rarely plods to the forefront of my funereal lexicon is also one which I cannot avoid when discussing the genre: what is “funeral,” Alex?” I’ll take Potpourr-zees for $200.
“Five years ago, Madam X found Wailin Storms’ debut full-length One Foot in the Flesh Grave to be a tasty treat, accurately calling it a mix between Danzig and 16 Horsepower. Their sound, which has changed little in the interim, is what you’d get if you conducted an experiment on band composition. Tell the bassist he’s playing in a doom outfit, tell the guitarist it’s psychobilly, tell the drummer to play post-hardcore, and let vocalist Justin Storms do exactly what it says on the tin. For an album that falls somewhere outside the usual bounds of metal, Rattle is all hot-blooded heaviness.” Weather the Storm.
“At last week’s regular AMG staff shaming re-education session, TheKenWord and I stood in the center of the writers’ circle and explained that our problem with thrash, despite all the riffage, had always been the vocals. Our Steely overseer prescribed a crash course in early Destruction, with the more unusual vocal delivery of Marcel Schirmer, aka Schmier. Having taken my medicine—and enjoyed both Infernal Overkill and Eternal Devastation, it should be said—I was stoked to find that the thrash promo I’d picked up on a whim actually included at least one member of Destruction.” A scorching case of Gomorra.
