“Don’t look at me. I feel nothing but shame for the treason I am about to unveil, for though my words are true, they are most certainly not trve. I’ve been banging my head to power metal all week… and I liked it. It started with this band, Gods of Silence, and their debut assault Neverland.” From muppet to lost boy.
“If I were looking for a way to market Helpless, I would describe them as a combination of the brutal rage of Nails with the wild noise of Anaal Nathrakh – yet perhaps a more accurate description is simply “a grindier Gaza.” Like them, Helpless’s lifeblood is dissonance.” Noise as art.
“Addition, subtraction, so much of metal involves the bolting-on and prying-off of countless sub-genres. Musicians and critics often fall into the trap of viewing music less as an expression of fertile creativity and more like a chest of drawers awaiting assembly. Start with a death metal base, insert black metal vocals into socket B, affix progressive chords perpendicular to the shelves… wait, we’re missing two slats and I’ve stripped a screw. Billed as a melding of tech death, black, and thrash, Omnipotence – The Infinite Darkness by Toronto natives Astaroth Incarnate had the cynic in me guessing the end-result without listening to a single note.” Maths are hard.
“It’s the music that sends me careening through a canyon as dark as a Nick Cave soundtrack and as unique as a Sólstafir record. It has a suffocating mixture of Shining-like desperate, voice-throwing screams and cleans moodier than your grandma’s sanitarium. Coming off 2013’s Burzum-esque EP, I hoped Gärdefors would push on. I hoped for his refusal to revert back to the generic sounds of Fyra elegier. I hoped for more Syner. Well, my hopes became reality. And that reality is Arvet.” (TGIDF) Thank God It’s Depressive Friday.
“2017 has been a challenging year for Steel’s favorite prog-minded bands. Pyramaze tried to craft a movie soundtrack of a metal album and crashed on a reef in the treacherous Michael Bay, and Anubis Gate opted for a heavier, darker sound that felt awkward and unrefined. Knowing Threshold had a massive double album inbound filled me with trepidation and worry this downward trend would never get reversed. And Legends of the Shires is nothing if not long, clocking in at over 1 hour and 22 minutes (2 discs, 3 LPs).” Legends last forever, as do some albums.
“Their sound is an excellent encapsulation of the dynamic nature of modern black metal, splicing post-black sensibilities with melodic bombastic and explosive drum performances. Due to the misguided hype, their fourth LP, Finisterre, was inescapably disappointing for my first few spins; much of what I love about Der Weg einer Freiheit’s prior album’s just isn’t here. With time, though, Finisterre blossomed into what I now regard as a complicated work of heartbreaking beauty, becoming the most impressive ‘grower’ of the year in the process.” Finisterre. Oh, Finisterre baby….
“Something evil stirs beneath the Akropolis. Runes begin glowing red in the deep tunnels beneath the temple. Animals scatter in panic as drums rise from the depths. Vendors in Anafiotika pray to their respective gods, but find no respite in faith, as the ground begins to shake and crack. The reason for this unholy display? Septicflesh are back with another fat slab of orchestral death!” Night on Septic Mountain.
“It’s strangely liberating to write about a high profile record after its official release when, presumably, all those interested in hearing it have done so and made their decisions on its merits or lack thereof. Such is the case with The Haunted’s new record, Strength in Numbers. Those who are longtime fans will already be enjoying their disc or LP, and those on the fence will likely not be swayed in their opinion by the prose of a halfway decent writer on the internet, but instead by another run-through on Spotify.” Revisiting old haunts.
“Welcome, AMG Readership, to our sanguinary sect of worship. Feel at home in our black conventicle as we anathematize all of those who oppose us. Don’t summon the Devil, don’t call the priest. If you need the strength, then conjure Germany’s Schafott, whose debut album, The Black Flame, is set to smolder the soul with classic blackened thrash.” Devotees will carve Slayer in their arm before returning to the cvlt.
“The solo works of Steven Wilson were in ascendancy by 2012’s accomplished The Raven that Refused to Sing, a musically morose but sonically warm homage to 70s prog rock which drew me in with its Fripp-isms and ensnared me in its powerfully emotive web. 2015 saw the decidedly harsher tone of Hand. Cannot. Erase., which similarly impressed me with its engrossing tale of obliteration with more modern tools. The prospect of a sequel named To the Bone surely had a number of AMG writers all hot and bothered. His production has always been top-notch while his music is constantly developing, promising at least that it would stand apart from prior albums to offer something fresh.” Reinvent, refresh.
