Doom

Lucifer – Lucifer II Review

Lucifer – Lucifer II Review

“Now is the summer of my discontent. Not only because the sun incessantly threatens to ignite my beard, but having reviewed too much of one thing, the urge to consume an entirely different animal has reared its ugly head. Borne atop a moldering mound of lesser reviewers by those most metal of saints, I spied a beckoning light in the recesses of the perdition manifest we affectionately call the promo pit. Said bastion was none other than German-based doom/rock act, Lucifer, and their compactly titled second album, Lucifer II.” The Devil you should get to know.

Treedeon -Under the Manchineel Review

Treedeon -Under the Manchineel Review

“The Berlin trio practice a caustic form of sludge that draws from the filth of the NOLA scene and the crawling pace of doom, a music more intent on shredding vocal cords than guitar. Their choice of album title couldn’t be more appropriate – what could be a better metaphor for their environmentalist angst than the baneful swamp tree that killed Juan Ponce De Leon? In terms of North American plants, only the parsnip and chain cholla compare in viciousness, a characteristic with which Treedeon heavily identify.” Tree thuggers.

Insect Ark – Marrow Hymns Review

Insect Ark – Marrow Hymns Review

Insect Ark’s debut, Portal/Well saw a warm, if not enthusiastic, welcome at AMG by our staff’s very own card-carrying Illuminati member. Such is Roquentin‘s power that the one-woman, drone-doom project didn’t blow up despite its extreme catchiness and party-ready bangers. Never one to allow the powers that be (other than myself) to dictate a band’s future, it was with great curiosity that I reached into the murky waters of the promo pond to retrieve Marrow Hymns, a sophomore effort which sees founding bassist/multi-instrumentalist Dana Schechter joined by drummer and synth-wrangler Ashley Spungin. At forty-four minutes, it’s hardly a marathon, yet the staid oddness of the whole thing proves to lengthen the listening experience.” Swarm drone.

The Atlas Moth – Coma Noir Review

The Atlas Moth – Coma Noir Review

“Shape-shifting Chicago act The Atlas Moth exorcised some particularly nasty personal demons on 2014’s bleak, The Old Believer album. Although failing to hit the glorious highs of predecessor An Ache for the Distance, it proved a mature, emotionally raw and harrowing chapter in the band’s career. Not content to repeat themselves, The Atlas Moth return in a decidedly more chipper mood, by their despondent standards, serving up an energetic and refreshingly upbeat collection of tunes that widens the scope considerably beyond the psychedelic sludge tag they are frequently saddled with.” Like an Atlas Moth to the flame of judgment.

Yhdarl – Loss Review

Yhdarl – Loss Review

“Pulling off a long song — be it a ten-minute black metal piece or an hour-plus funeral doom opus — takes very deliberate pacing. Great drone and doom bands know this and know how to pull the listener rather than push them. If the song moves too fast, it can seem to lose structure, but if it moves too slowly, it can stagnate and sour the listener to its next idea. One has to have the pacing and space to keep themselves involved.” The long lurch into oblivion.

Parasit – A Proud Tradition of Stupidity Review

Parasit – A Proud Tradition of Stupidity Review

“Ah, April. The air is crisp, the baby animals are frolicking – and apparently, the Swedish Crust Machine has gone into overdrive. For those who didn’t get enough of a D-beating from Victims’ latest album, Parasit is here to belch a layer of grime and bathroom scum all over your precious springtime paradise with sophomore LP A Proud Tradition of Stupidity.” Where did all this shaving flotsam come from?!

Indian – From All Purity Review

Indian – From All Purity Review

“”Noise” is a term often used to describe metal by those who haven’t yet submersed themselves in the genre. When you’re not used to being assaulted by distortion and screams, the whole panoply of extreme genres undoubtedly poses a seemingly impenetrable thicket of bloodied thorns; it seems insane that people would choose to settle in such an environment, make their homes there, and grow the forest ever greater. Indian are the fetid leaf litter of the forest, the floor of grimy, wet, compacted remains where plantae gives way to fungi and fungi to bacteria.” Kronos weaves a strange tale of forests, mulch and mouse bones as he unveils an early candidate for Album of the Year.