“Having recently relocated from South Carolina (a.k.a. The Land of Eternal Swampass), the name Marsh Dweller immediately piqued my interest when I saw it on our promo list. I always seem to find myself applying band and album names in stupidly personal ways, and a moniker like that reminded me of the long nighttime walks I used to take through a nearby salt marsh while listening to Baroness and picking my underwear out of my asscrack.” This too, shall ass.
“Everyone and their second cousin (twice removed) knows by now that there’s a glut of one-man black metal bands. You have a guitar, a barely functional computer, a mic, and some time to kill? That’s a perfect recipe to stave off boredom for at least a few months (or days, if you’re Vardan). One-man doom metal, though? That requires some serious time, dedication, and at least a decent knowledge of every instrument possible.” Bring forth the sad loner!
“I’m a rare steak man. It doesn’t have to bleed to be palatable, but it probably wouldn’t hurt. After tossing a couple sirloins on the grill for dinner, my fiancée asked how I was liking X-Method. A blood-tinged fugue immediately compelled me to follow her back into the house so that someone, anyone, would listen to the ensuing oral diarrhea. Fifteen minutes later, my untended steaks were completely overcooked. X-Method ruined my dinner and my stomach demands recompense.” That steak is now like Thor’s hammer – runed!
“Believe it or not the life of a music reviewer is not as glamorous as one would think. Yes, from time to time you’re invited to the likes of Thor’s Rock Opera in some trendy part of New York City, you’re jet-setting off to Chicago with tickets to Alehorn of Power IX, or you’re the first to get your grubby mitts on Swallow the Sun’s new triple album. Outside of those jaw-dropping moments though, reviewing consists of picking some unknown band/album off the promo sheet with your fingers tightly crossed hoping that what’s going to burst out of your monitors isn’t going to suck monkey balls. Aussie ambient/black metallers, Spire, was one of those random, finger-crossing, hope-for-the-best-expect-the-worst moments.” Sometimes you win and sometimes….
“There once was a time when the little known Bloody Hammers were making like the even lesser known Vardan by releasing new albums with shocking rapidity. Perhaps this was their way of getting their name out there and keeping whatever low-level momentum they garnered moving in the right direction. Unfortunately despite some good ideas, the music often felt slapped together and rushed with inconsistent results. The talent and potential were definitely there, but the results weren’t quite up to snuff. In my review of their 2014 opus Under Satan’s Sun I prescribed a longer time between releases to allow their ideas to germinate, marinate and ruminate, and perhaps they took the advice to heart.” Free advice is worth exactly what it costs.
“By now, the more astute of you are aware of my promo selection process. If you’re just tuning in, I select bands based on the following criteria: my own listening history of the band (naturally), the band’s back story, and their naming conventions. That last one has unearthed some amazing gems. Other times, it bit me in the ass hard. Italy’s Svlfvr (pronounced “Sulfur” and not “SVILFIVOR,” sadly) caught me with not only their name, but also their beautiful purple-and-green album cover for their debut full-length.” Color my wvrld.
“Atmospheric black metal. Some run to the hills, disgusted by the label, while others embrace it with an incredible fervor, an addict in desperate need of his next fix. Part of the beauty, or tedium, of the ‘atmospheric’ label is its elusiveness. Ranging from one-man bedroom-studio synth-heavy releases to six-piece major-label indie-black-digeridoo extravaganzas and everything in between, I never really know what freakish concoction awaits.” Life is like a box of kvlt chocolates.
