“An anachoret—anchorite in English—is someone who has committed to live an ascetic life in solitary confinement in order to devote themselves to prayer. In this way, they reflect the notorious stereotype of the solo black metal musician. Anachoret is no exception, being the solo black metal project of the mysterious K.C. This debut LP has apparently been three years in the making, following a demo, two splits, and an EP over a span of ten years.” Life in a lonely grave.
“Esoteric concepts need some sort of well-endowed platform to rise above obscurity. Temple of Evil believes in the summoning power of their latest sermon Apolytrosis—an ancient Greek term for the concept of redemption through sacrifice. Hailing from the kvlt island nation of Cyprus, in the brutal waters of the Mediterranean Sea, Temple of Evil presents us with the familiar offerings of pummeling blast beats, furious tremolo riffs, and embattled barks—all with the melodic flair of other Hellenistic acts like Rotting Christ or Nightfall.” Small nation, big evil.
“Panychida began as a fairly meat-and-‘taters black metal project in 2004, but has gradually been expanding its sound to include a greater emphasis on the classic heavy and thrash bands of yore. Gabreta Aeterna is the band’s most expansive and diverse effort yet, going all-in on the thrash, complete with righteous solos and rock-with-your-cock out passages.” Blackness in a hard place.
“Now that mega-corporations have paved the internet highways with the asphalt of targeted ads and misinformation, the digital utopia has become a divisive dystopia where that same creativity grows mainly in the cracks between the concrete. But its connective power still remains unabated, and The Committee is testament to that. It was certainly possible for a band whose members live scattered across Europe to exist, but it would surely be more difficult, possibly insurmountably so.” Join the meeting.
“A good blackened thrash album is like coming home to your favorite armchair. You’ve had it for years, the material is soft and has long ago conformed to the exact contours of your buttocks, ensuring maximum comfort when you sit your ass down after a hard day’s work to watch whatever bullshit you can find on Netflix. Yet occasionally, an album will feel more like a chair you’ve owned too long. There’s potato chip crumbles stuck in the crevices. Stuffing is coming out of the edges. The recliner no longer works. It’s still a good reliable chair, but it doesn’t quite warm the heart as much as it once did.” Sofa worship.
“The Germans dropped their debut in the heart of List Season ’17, a rowdy black metal romp that thrived in the darkness of a 4 pm sunset. Two years on and Halphas won’t flinch before the listicle onslaught. Good on them too, because The Infernal Path into Oblivion is a step-up from an already strong debut. Who needs validation when you’ve got riffs?” Riff money.
“Nocturnal Breed are everything I’ve ever wanted to be in this life. They’re old-school, they don’t give a shit about anybody or anything, and they’re Norwegian. Making their start with ‘97’s Aggressor, these hateful sonsabitches haven’t changed a goddamn thing in over twenty years. Their albums are way too long, there’s no fluidity from one track to the next, and they’re still kicking the combination of Bathory, Venom, and Motörhead mixed with first-wave black metal and thrash.” Breed in the night.
“I rarely write my introductions first. This paragraph, the one right here that you’re reading right now usually appears later on, as if by magic, after I already have an idea of where exactly the review is going. I tell you this so that you’ll understand when I say that I’ve already squandered most of my allotted word count gushing over Deus Sive Natura down there, so I don’t have much time to be all flowery and introductiony. So here’s what you need to know: Evohé hail from France, play pagan black metal, and Deus Sive Natura is their third full-length.” No introductions necessary.
“Duality is a part of life. Man and God. Heaven and Hell. Filet mignon and Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. There’s a time and a place for putting on your best suit and giving a polished presentation to your boss, and there’s a time and a place for slamming Michelob Ultras in your underwear while listening to Impaled Nazarene’s discography in reverse order. Since this is a band called Whiskey Ritual, I’m sure you’ve already figured out which side of the spectrum they fall on. Here’s a hint: my pants are already off.” Pants off, dance is also off.
“What’s in a name, anyway? As a n00b of considerable amateurism, babyfaced me ventured forth into the minefield of the promo bin for the first time. I was immediately overwhelmed with the potential amount of sweet tunes that awaited my greedy fingers. Knowing no better, I picked the thing that sounded the coolest: Charnel Heart.” Beginner’s pluck.
