“Dälek is a duo from Newark, New Jersey, having quietly added to the late-90s burgeoning industrial rap scene with debut Negro Necro Nekros. Hip-hop courses through this crew’s veins, their compatriots the likes of Death Grips,clipping., and JPEGMAFIA, but metal’s battle jacket graces members MC Dälek and Mike Manteca’s shoulders.” Lethal futures in flimsy wrapping.
“Cover art can be misleading, but here it’s a clue. Reflecting that twisted marine merging of human and coral, Pyrithe‘s sound is chaos, artfully displayed. To their sludgy post-metal concoction, they add the use of coconuts, egg-shakers, kantele, and literal trash as musical elements. They also favor a disjointed, dissonant approach to songwriting, taking a leaf out of the more experimental edges of death metal, and beyond. In fact, they’ve even roped in Doug Moore of Pyrrhon and Seputus, the influence of which acts is quite evident. It’s heavy, it’s multifaceted, it’s a tiny bit mad, but is it any good?” Permanence and impetuousness.
“I have struggled mightily with Abraham. At its core, is it still Neurosis-core? Sure. Any post-metal release is bound to be. But there’s something especially tortured about its swaths of monolithic riffs and vivacious in its vocal variety, but above all, patient. It feels like an otherworldly ritual, as the drums pulse and the guitars plod with hypnotic rhythms to the beat of otherworldly suffering. While its former releases felt shining and hopeful, clean and precise, fourth full-length Débris de mondes perdus feels gritty, soiled, and unforgiving – but above all, hopeless.” Death of the sun/son?
“It would be easy to pigeonhole Norna as a mindless sludge beatdown, as concussions are bound to happen in Star is Way Way is Eye. However, contrary to its concrete-thick riffs, Liljedahl’s vocals and a melodic guitar performance keep it from descending into monotony – barely. Because first and foremost, Norna is heavy as fuck. Doom-infused riffs hit like a ton of bricks with an unforgiving density that recalls acts likeSunn O))) or BIG|BRAVE, edged by Macquat’s warbling synth presence.” Is this the Way?
“If you’ve never heard of Celeste, the name and the aesthetic can be misleading. Gorgeous and contemplative black and white photographs of artistic poses and strange characters greet the eyes with a moniker that points to the heavens. If you were to guess the style, you might say post-black or prog, maybe an indie acoustic troubadour, or a bedroom jazz project. However, you’d be hard-pressed to find another act as suffocating and pissed off as Celeste. A visceral fusion of black metal, hardcore, and the filthiest outskirts of extreme subgenres, these Frenchmen are the epitome of scathing consistency, releasing album after album of hypnotic tunes.” Assassin’s breed.
“In the multiform sea of interpretations permitted by the tag ‘post-black metal,’ Oar direct their course towards singularly grimy, doom-laden waters. The band borrows from the likes of Amenra and Vous Autres in sinister and savage feeling, though eschewing smooth, reverb-laden tones in favor of a more suffocating vibe.” The real question is whether we can make it through a post-black metal review without a reference to Deafheaven.
Dr. A.N. Grier delivers the goods with a Top Ten(ish) of 2021 to shock and awe the unwashed masses. Experience it.
“I’d be willing to put down money that The Temple is or contains a piece of Ulcerate. This New Zealand duo consists of P.K. on guitar, bass, and vocals (Paul Kelland? Sure sounds like him) and J.W. on drums (former Ulcerate vocalist James Wallace?), and to make matters worse, the self-titled debut was mixed and produced by J. Saint Merat. But this feeling of limbo, that maybe it is or maybe it isn’t, is what The Temple dwells in.” Crouching temples, hidden tech-death.
“Misanthur was listed as “trance ambient noise” in the cold boundaries of the promo dump and just plain black metal on other sites. Truthfully, both are true. What this Polish duo offers is a hyper-atmospheric breed of black metal with heavy electronic and industrial flourishes, not unlike a blackened version of C R O W N‘s latest, The End of All Things.” Kitchen sink-core.
“Belgium is a weird place. Maybe it’s the chocolate or waffles, but any country that offers groups like Neptunian Maximalism, Emptiness, or Amenra & Co. needs to have its cholesterol checked. Spewing out bizarre organic atmosphere with haunting repetition, artists like these have strangely minimalist tendencies that end up feeling bigger than the individual parts suggest. While spanning a broad range of metallic subgenres, it comes across as otherworldly, surreal, and fiercely dark. To add their two cents to these Belgian shenanigans is Wolvennest.” Temple of Weird.
