“Yes, I’m alive. Why haven’t I written much lately? Because I’ve been busy with work and hunting down Nazis. But, mostly, it’s because I hate you all. Surprised, are you? I can’t imagine why. Unlucky for you, Midnight is here to fuel my hatred.” Witch hammered.
“For over 30 years, Louisiana’s own Crowbar have been an institution, with guitarist/vocalist/main man Kirk Windstein helping redefine how downtrodden doom can be, and creating a pathway for future sludge worshippers to follow in his sizeable footsteps. During those years and eleven albums, Windstein and his crew of (forlorn) merry men provided a wealth of classics, with the likes of “All I Had (I Gave),” “Time Heals Nothing,” and “Planets Collide” (among a slew of others) laying the groundwork for many purges and cathartic sludgery. That said, with the exception of an occasional curveball, you pretty much know what to expect from Crowbar at this point.” Welcome to the Iron Bar.
“Welcome to my third Mountaineer review. Three reviews of doomy, shoegazey post-rock might seem cumbersome to many, but these albums come every other year, so I find myself primed to dive in. In fact, I was just listening to music of a similar style last month, the album The Shape of Everything by a band called SOM. It falls into many of the same categories as Mountaineer’s newest, Giving Up the Ghost, does, although Mountaineer have a heavier, more menacing edge to them courtesy of Miguel Meza’s harsh vocals.” Return to Ghost Mountain.
“Extreme music and cheer have an uneasy relationship. Power metal is generally expected to be upbeat and not take itself too seriously, but when the growls and screams enter the building, such attitudes are wont to leap out the window. Death and black metal are serious business, dammit! Except when they’re not, and examples abound of bands that embrace both the dark and the light. At first glance, Fall of Stasis seem to be the serious sort. A faux Old English logo, a grim apocalyptic cover, and a title that literally means ‘the time eater.’ But is it all as dark as it seems?” Goro-core.
“I’ll be honest, my expectations for Dead Language were low. First, wow, that is a terrible name. Second, Inner Missing are a two-person gothic metal band releasing album number nine in twelve years. You have to give them credit for persistence, but nine albums without a breakout isn’t promising. Third, my first impression of the lead single “The Quest” was entirely dominated by the inexplicable near-monotone vastly over-inflected bass vocals. It was not looking good. Expectations and first impressions are funny things, though.” Lost and found in translation.
“These here boys ain’t right in the head. UK duo Slob graces the world with a debut that dares to ask the question: “What if the hayseed rapists from Deliverance started a brutal death metal band and wrote a whole bunch of songs about sodomy?” It would be tempting to nickname these gentlemen “Gay Panic: The Band,” except Slob isn’t just interested in the kind of sodomy practiced belowdecks in the Royal Navy. Instead, they present us with an expansive and all-inclusive vision of the act.” Sodomy, sodomyou.
“Hath are a cool band. They fill that Slugdge-shaped hole in my thirsty sponge body quite snugly without being a carbon copy, and you can clearly hear how much the group’s sound and skill grew between debut EP Hive and debut LP Of Rot and Ruin. The same measure of growth in songwriting and style applies between Of Rot and Ruin and their latest opus, All that Was Promised.” Hell Hath more fury.
“Echoes From the Gutter finds Venator expanding upon the classic sound they established on the well-executed and well-received 2020 Paradiser EP, a sound that finds them worshipping with reverent fervor before the alter of the deities of early 80s British and American heavy metal. When I listen to these guys, I hear Defenders-era Judas Priest mixed with Jag Panzer, Angel Witch, and Omen; their songs are undeniably heavy and irresistibly catchy.” Hello from the metal gutter.
“With that album cover, you know exactly what you’re getting. You’ve heard it before – a bunch of musicians who smoked one too many joints in high school, and then one too many joints in college, and decided to share their boundless love for early Black Sabbath with the world. Norwegian four-piece Kryptograf is relatively new to the overcrowded stoner rock scene, but they made a splash with their self-titled 2020 debut, which melded vintage doom, hard rock, and psychedelic jams.” Loving the leaf.
“I’ve become a jaded man-cat over the last few years or so. I can blame Covid, or humanity’s lack of… well, humanity towards one another, or a myriad of other reasons. The fact of the matter is whenever I turn on the news or see yet another impossibly bad hot-take on Twitter, the anger that begins to well up inside me can power my home city for months. So, what’s a grouchy man-cat to do? Listen to Nova, the fourth full-length by Norwegian/French multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Kathrine Shepard, aka Sylvaine, that’s what. Having reviewed not one, but two, albums of hers, I knew what to expect. Or so I thought.” Prime Nova.
