“As this isn’t my memoirs, nor a review of a decades-old Nuclear Blast and Relapse sampler, let’s get to what’s written on the top of this page, and what you came here for: Neocaesar’s 11:11. And what a guy with a dreadful Slayer pun as a pen name who talks about Plato too much has to say about it.” Sophistry and death.
“Genus Ordinis Dei (GOD for short) by their name wonder what the biological classification of an Abrahamic God would be, and they do this by seemingly breaking the rulebook and combining symphonic death metal with elements of the traditionally blue collar of deathcore.” Symphonic deathcore? Surely you can’t be serious.
“I love Insomnium. Big shock, I know. Of the eight reviews with Insomnium namedrops this year, I own more than half of them. Imagine my dismay when, upon returning from re-education vacation, I stumbled across a lonely slab of Insomnium-core from November, unreviewed and unloved. From Greece, to boot! Aetherian laid their pearly adoration for melodeath’s upper crust before swine and I’m going to give them their due.” Melodeath before nuclear hogs.
“I’ve been meaning to check out Deinonychus for one simple reason: I fucking love dinosaurs. Fellow dino nerds will know that Deinonychus was a fearsome predator of the early Cretaceous period, closely related to the infamous Velociraptor and with a name that means ‘terrible claw.’ It’s a badass band name, and though this Dutch trio doesn’t sing about slicing open unsuspecting sauropods, their music is no less compelling.” Music to go extinct to.
“SCENE: A slick, leather-appointed office on the 13th floor of an imposing building. The room is furnished with hellish trophies and framed photos of sobbing individuals. Faint wailing can be heard from the floors below.” AMG: the screenplay.
“Now here’s a strange and interesting story. Imagine forming your band in 1973, naming yourself after a Pete Sinfield song from his Still album. Imagine working on your first album for forty-three years. Imagine playing and writing for nine years, then sleeping for two dozen. And imagine recording the songs you’ve been writing for all these years over a number of sessions scattered across eight years and five different locales. Clearly, time moves at a different speed for German progressive rockers Sea Goat.” Vote Goat.
“Last year in our EP edition of TYMHM, I waxed eloquent about a great little proto-thrash demo from some Wellington, NZ upstarts, Stälker. Their Satanic Panic cassette was such a nasty bit of early speed metal that it garnered the attention of Napalm Records, and this power trio was set to record their full-length debut this year. Enter Shadow of the Sword.” Only a big sword casts a shadow you can enter.
“Avatarium went from retro doom to 60s rock in the span of 3 albums, and over their own 3 album run, Jess and the Ancient Ones voyaged from occult 70s rock/metal to what they’ve become on The Horse and Other Weird Tales – tripped out 60s hippie rock with nary a metal influence to be found.” Find your inner hippie.
“I hadn’t paid much attention to France’s Aosoth until they dropped the captivating IV: An Arrow in Heart LP in 2013, a dark and crushing affair of malicious, dissonant black metal. Admittedly I have only flirted with the remainder of their back catalog since, with nothing much, to my ears, standing up to the colossal An Arrow in Heart. The album’s hefty production and outside elements almost made it sound like Aosoth were a black metal band, in a particularly evil and hulking death metal body, with the songwriting smarts to craft an equally punishing, challenging and addictive opus. Now, after four years, Aosoth return hellbent on continuing their twisted conceptual mission and hammering home the fact that no-one does black metal quite like the French.” Black arrows ov death.
“Full disclosure: I took this review on fully expecting to hate this album. Readers may remember I already felt lukewarm about Toothgrinder’s 2016 debut Nocturnal Masquerade, whose poppier and less technical take on The Dillinger Escape Plan was bogged down by repetitive ideas and too many generic radio rock choruses. As the New Jersey quintet’s sharp hardcore riffing seemed to be the best thing about Masquerade, I ultimately concluded the band needed to get heavier, slapped it with a 3.0, and went back to eating Chinese food and jerking off.” Too much disclosure.
