“Last year, I got to review Revelations in Alchemy, the debut album from Portland, Oregon’s Shroud of the Heretic. Even though it had a few hiccups (such as speeding up things unnecessarily), I was quite taken by how grotesque, viscous, and utterly grimy the album felt, as if the evil wasn’t delivered via possession or fear, but rather through slower, phlegmatic methods.” Phlegm is so metal.
“The last time I put meat in my fridge was three months ago when I had to store a turtle carcass until I could properly preserve it. At parties I stand by the recycling bin and cuss at people who try to put their beer cans in the trash. Whenever I see a disaster movie I not-so-secretly root against the humans. I’m just short of buying carbon offsets for my own respiration. I think Cattle Decapitation is the coolest band on the entire planet.” Kronos hugs trees and bees.
“Ah, Krisiun. Your militant drumming, battering riffs, and enraged vocals have earned you a place on quite a few of my “wake up the neighbors” playlists over the years. While calling you an institution may be a stretch, you’re certainly a band of workhorses, belching out no-bullshit death metal as a fraternal trio since 1990, and serving as a constant reminder that Brazil is more than just nice tushes, dense rainforests, and a Terry Gilliam film about a dystopian bureaucracy that would make FEMA shiver.” The angry wind came blowing in, from across the sea….
“Feed the silage of Napalm Death, Rotten Sound and Cephalic Carnage (the grindier bits) to the cow of creativity, and Cattle Decapitation will likely have something to say about your heinous animal cruelty. But survive their wrath, and one to three days later this noble beast will reward your sadism by passing quite the musical meadow muffin.” Poo goes there?
“For those who like scorching deserts, scantily-clad temptresses, and animals that will poison you and then rip your face right off, look no further than the land down under. Hell? Close – Australia. It’s no surprise such a rugged environment has given rise to filthy bands that blur the lines between thrash, black, and death: Nocturnal Graves, Denouncement Pyre, Innsmouth, and the almighty Deströyer 666. Of perhaps lesser profile – though no less quality – is Victoria’s Destruktor.” Former penal colonies make the best metal.
“The internet is all around us. People can hear an unfamiliar song, click a button on their phone, and be told what that track is in mere seconds. To the younger me, that would’ve been sorcery! I took advantage of precisely none of the limitless information constantly available to me when listening to Blasphemic Cruelty’s latest EP Crucible of the Infernum, and instead uttered verbatim what the venerable Al Kikuras said in his initial impression of the latest Perdition Temple record: Holy Shit, this sounds like Angelcorpse.” Another Angelcorpse hybrid falls to the ground, is it worth shedding a tear over?
“For the past two years, my “Album of the Year” honor has gone to albums that clawed at the seams of extreme metal; while imperfect, they represented a rare glimpse at the technicolor darkness trapped perpetually beyond the horizon of the genre. It’s too early to call 2015, which I must say has piddled forth only a dilute stream of quality metal; but I can say without doubt that this album is a contender.” Color Kronos impressed…and burnt sienna.
“Starting your promo blurb off with “Horror ‘n gore connoisseurs, Bone Gnawer….” will catch my eye. Going on to mention that the band is the brainchild of death metal legend Kam Lee (The Grotesquery, ex-Massacre, ex-Denial Fiend) that’s a great way to keep me reading.” Madam X likes cookouts…and cannibalism.
“Joke bands have never really been my thing. While I love groups like Cannabis Corpse and find their puns chuckle-worthy, it’s the riffs, not the mildly amusing weed references, that keep me coming back. That said, when an album called Goatgrind by Germany’s Milking the Goatmachine showed up in the AngryMetal promo list, I made a special exception.” Don’t ask him why.
“Anyone passingly familiar with the Chicago metal scene in the past few years will have at some point encountered Immortal Bird. In Dr. Fisting and my neck of the woods, they’re one of the better groups to grace the dingy ex-speakeasies and frostbitten holes-in-the-wall. Their tight live performances do their sludgy, blackened death metal great justice and a full-length release has been awaited for a while in la casa de Kronos.” La casa de Kronos has a big old birdbath.
