“Remember the good old days when thrash spoke to every unhappy degenerate forced to take a piss as Big Brother stood by watching? It was a time when metalheads rose to the occasion, spoke to people better than even our greatest orators, and made a stand against crooked politicians. It was a time when being a rebel stood for something and tearing each other apart in circle pits and walls-of-death was the greatest form of therapy.” Some gave some, Doc gave more.
“There are a handful of obscure record labels that I’ve learned to pay attention to when their output finds its way into our promo bay; the aptly named Transcending Obscurity is one of them. In recent months they’ve distributed some seriously weird novelty projects that, though not always great, typically provide something fresh that stands out in the crowded sphere of extreme metal. Thus, when I saw they had delivered us a Swedish death metal album, I was immediately intrigued.” You deserve a Kaning.
“With the strength of 37 mighty African elephants, Hannibal marched 40,000 of his bravest men, 1,500 miles through the Alps, to challenge Rome’s supremacy on their own soil. Such is the premise of Ex Deo’s latest historical undertaking.” People show know when they’re conquered by historical metal.
“Their older stuff isn’t half bad with its Dissection-inspired melodeath and meloblack hybrid, and certainly offers a blacker, rougher outlook than those of the Gothenburg ilk at a similar time. Yet In Thousand Lakes hail instead from the significantly less kvlt Spain. It is at least one of the rainier parts. But all this research and I’d not even yet listened to the album! I pulled on my Somberlain boots and prepared to get stuck into the Light’s Bane…” Tales from the thousand fakes.
“As anyone whose late teenage years were lost in a fog of Jägermeister and regret will tell you, lessons learned the hard way often stay with you the longest; fuck things up badly enough and you won’t repeat the same mistake again anytime soon. There are, however, a few hardy souls upon whom this principle is destined to be forever lost—people to whom common sense and reason are just meaningless buzzwords dreamt up by the establishment. People like Chris Barnes.” Fight the power!
“To me, there’s no music genre entirely without merit. Hardcore? Give me some Counterparts, please. Hip hop? Aesop Rock is my jam. Emo? I’ll rock out to Taking Back Sunday like it’s 2005 and I need something playing in the background while I apply eyeliner for my Myspace profile pic. Djent? Now that’s a tricky one.” Go easy on the guyliner, Z.
“Like the Trials album which preceded it, however, In Monochrome is unapologetically modern, but it has two feet firmly planted in the feel(s) of yesteryear. And it is the feeling of being a traditional metal album—without being remotely derivative—which makes In Monochrome an excellent album.” I mean, what more do you want for an endorsement than that!?
“Aleister Crowley: occultist, ceremonial magician, poet, painter, and chess player. The shroud of the occult followed his blackened coat-tails like an obedient dog. Was he really a prophet sent to guide humanity? Was he really a spy working for the British government? Was he really one with the spiritual world or were the drugs he siphoned into himself just a tad too potent? Whatever your view, the stories and philosophies of Crowley and others of his ilk brighten up the dullness of our material lives; their obsessive attraction to the weird and wacky of this world has unearthed a plentiful abundance of material for musicians and writers to utilize.” Don’t play chess with the Devil.
“How do you keep a genre fresh without turning it into something it’s not? This is a question I’ve been pondering for a while now. See, I’ve been a near-obsessive devotee of the whole atmospheric-blackened-folk metal shebang ever since I caught Winterfylleth as a support band back in about 2009. Unfortunately, after many years, countless foliage-themed album covers and a surfeit of unintelligible shrieks about Odin and mountains, the sub-subgenre is starting to feel a little stale, and thus my corresponding enthusiasm for new releases is beginning to wane accordingly.” Kilts, hilts and glory.
“Five years ago Battle Beast flattened me with a 50-ton cheese smoother called Steel. In the years since that righteous lactose lullaby, it’s safe to say the band and I had our share of problem. I was less than enthused with their eponymous follow-up and even less keen on 2015s Unholy Savior. It felt like the band was searching for a new direction somewhere between the throwback 80s cheddar of the debut and radio-ready hair metal, and like Beth’s absentee ex-boyfriend, they just couldn’t find the sound.” 50 shades of Beast.
