“From Judas’ selling out the Son of God for a mere 30 pieces of silver, to Julius Caesar meeting his sticky end at the hands of several disgruntled Roman senators, and his own nephew, Brutus. History is rife with tales of betrayal. The Finns are back in town and Poetry of the Ill-minded is set for release just next week. What connection can the esteemed Shade Empire possibly have with these horrific accounts of betrayal?” Music gets very personal.
“Tchornobog is Soroka’s attempt at infiltrating the extreme metal sect occupied by the likes of Portal and Abyssal; a brew of cavernous, cacophonous death metal, dripping with fringe-style elements that blur genre lines.” Gesundheit!
“There is something surprisingly comforting, dare I say nostalgic, in Nexul’s punishing full-length début Paradigm of Chaos. Perhaps it’s the wistfulness attached to the band’s raw, hissy black/death metal approach and over-the-top Luciferian imagery. Their music today appears as an echo of a homicidal time and place which the genre occupied during its infancy. As if a splinter of the heartfelt occult hatefulness of the early Norwegian black metal scene somehow made its way to El Paso, Texas.” Morbid tourist.
“Ever since zombies killed his dog in 2007, Will Smith has been dealing with his grief in the healthy way: by gurgling, screaming, and howling his way across New York’s underground metal scene. Many will be familiar with his work in Buckshot Facelift and Artificial Brain, and his talents are just as well displayed in Afterbirth.” Rage therapy.
“For me, Pathology was the gateway to slam. I still recall the first time I ever experienced their music: Boxing Day, years ago, I went to the now-defunct record store Zeus in search of some new metal to feast my ears upon. I saw Legacy of the Ancients with its striking cover, adorned with a sticker saying that Pathology “represents more death than a mass grave in Columbia.” My thoughts in a word: sold.” What do we have to do to put you in this mass grave today?
“At this point in 2017, a year already subject to a burgeoning tornado of death metal souls, the genre is hardly in need of a qualitative shot in the arm. Regardless, after seven years in the ether, none other than Decrepit Birth have descended to lend their technical muscle to the array of perennial brutalities, with fourth album Axis Mundi and a semi-reconstructed line up.” Brutal rebirthing.
“Despite their obvious affection for the meat and potatoes roots of old school American death, Soul Remnants craft a distinctive sound that weaves elements of thrash, melodic death and the occasional blackened and proggy moment into their tough, groove-laden death assault.” Meat, potatoes, death, fun.
“It’s easy to wonder if death metal is currently in the midst of an existential crisis. In one sense, it perpetually is; its obsession with mortality is such that everyone from Martin Heidegger to Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine would tell the genre to chill out a bit. On the other hand, the acts that find themselves popular with critics wear a different sort of existential crisis on their sleeves, one of existential malaise. As one should always be wary of virtually everything that critics (along with intellectuals and “experts”) tell them, everyone ought to be extremely cautious about the “future” of death metal and the current state of the classic sound. Norway’s Execration is one of the bands in the thick of this existential crisis.” Musical Pokemon.
“Cytotoxin, back five years after 2012’s Radiophobia and thankfully not much altered. The same slammy riffing, the same unsparing vocals, the same troubling nuclear disaster fetishism, and the same hyper-fast sweep picked leads – but this time there’s more of them.” Kronos is back, and so is Cytotoxin. What a day!
“War. Whether for profit, liberation, or for sheer annihilation of your enemies, many bands have scoured the various battles and wars throughout the ages for musical and lyrical inspiration. World War I in particular remains a fertile ground for a variety of metal bands, with depictions of trenches and chemical warfare highlighted in gruesome, vivid detail. New Zealand’s Vesicant, their name derived from the blistering after-effects of mustard gas, attempt to weave their own horrific tales of one of the ugliest wars in history with their debut album, Shadows of Cleansing Blood.” War inside your head.
