“Think of the most oppressive, putrid, and harrowing music you know. Now multiply the numerical representation of that oppressive and harrowing putridity by a thousand million. Your numerical representation is dwarfed by that of Hexis. In their world, Wormed sound like the Beach Boys, Ahab sound like wimpy clown fish, and Annal Nathrakh sound like a Tony Bennett tribute act.” That’s a mad world, right there.
“Perversiones De Muerte Putrefacta doesn’t stop to smell the roses. Whether this leaves us slavering for more or wiping our brow, thankful of the short affair, remains to be seen.” Grind, like Hobbs-core, is nasty, brutish and short.
“I love Lich King. If I had any musical talent, I’d beg them for an audition. I’ve dabbled with the idea of thrash-covering Sheer Heart Attack under the name Lich Queen. I would drive two hours to their Massachusetts headquarters to treat foot-out-the-door vocalist Tom Martin to a steak dinner and twenty minutes of hanky-panky if he agreed to stick around.” The Doctor is a whore.
“Say what you will about Adam Clemans, but Skeletonwitch really lost something when they kicked Chance out, leaving me hungry for bands that captured the rowdiness of their early days. Enter All Hell.” Skeletons, witches and Hell, oh my!
“The titillating album title Cosmic Doom Ritual jumped out at me for being both a bluntly simple title and one that I expected would lead me into the atmospheric realm of my dreams. Each word stood out and beckoned me. Cosmic: I love all things space — Darkspace, Mare Cognitum, and Midnight Odyssey; Doom: I love all things, well, doom; Ritual: I love anything reminiscent of the primal sound of early Neurosis and Isis. These three things combined made me froth at the mouth like a dog with rabies.” Into the void with rabid dogs.
“I love progressive metal fusions. To name just a few: Opeth, Cormorant, and Ne Obliviscaris are among my favorite bands. So the prospect of getting on board with a young and allegedly progressive black metal band early was certainly enticing. I say allegedly as our promo-meisters have been known to be deceptively liberal with genre labeling in the past, but I cut them some slack and acquired Chained to a Wolf by Katakomb with interest.” Wolves, chains and intrigue.
“70’s revival bands pop out of the ground like hallucinogenic mushrooms in this day and age, but despite making up half the population of the planet, there’s a somewhat depressing lack of female-fronted material. It’s an issue that has plagued rock and metal for decades, but when the annals contain such timeless talents as Heart and Janis Joplin, it doesn’t feel like a counterweight for all the testosterone should be too much to ask.” More Venus, less penis.
“Since Psycroptic helped put the Australian metal scene on the map, several acts like Ne Obliviscaris and Ulcerate have become darlings of the metal scene worldwide, experimenting with their own unique sound. But whatever happened to the rabid, thrashy tech-death that first emerged from Tasmania?” Aussie shock and awe.
“Two years ago, the Grymm Grab Bag unearthed Vegferð tímans, the third album by Icelandic duo Dynfari. While it started off slowly, the album opened itself up to some beautiful post-rock influenced black metal that was both inspiring and beautiful, like the musical equivalent of watching the moon shimmer off of a glacier in the middle of winter. Fast-forward to now, and Dynfari, now a fully fleshed-out quartet, return with a concept album.” Blackened beauty.
“I normally make a point of ignoring Facebook adverts. ‘I won’t be a victim to consumer culture!’ I say to myself; ‘you don’t know me!’ But the omniscient algorithms which now compose the base of all our interests and spending habits were once again validated. Promising progressive and post-metal, eye-catching artwork and a group local to me, Asira’s Efference beckoned with a sultry finger. And while I may have chided myself as I hit play on the single, I learned to re-love myself by its conclusion.” We frown on self re-loving.
