“Know your limit, play within it. This is the advice Ontario’s gambling regulators give to people interested in blackjack, scratch tickets, and everything in between. More folks than the average ramblin’ gamblin’ man should heed the Ontario Lottery and Gaming Corporation’s advice, and one group of folks is folks in metal bands.” Know when to fold em.
“Ov all the cruel ironies in this angry metal world, black metal’s oversaturated state, at this point presumably mere days from breaching mainstream radio status, is likely the one that yanks my unicorn the most. That the brave new musical world discovered by such wanderers as Burzum, Mayhem, and Bathory would be further explored and defiled in time was never a question, yet the rampant proliferation of new obsidian acts we find ourselves plagued with is less akin to expansion than to… well, frankly, a fucking plague.” Semi-cold.
“Following the spate of fantastic death metal records released in the twilight months of 2018, my new year’s resolution was thusly engraved: listen to more death metal. Admittedly, last year was absolutely bananas when it came down to average release quality across all varieties of death metal, rendering wishes for the streak to continue borderline pointless. I can at least continue to expand my horizons in a genre that I have always somewhat neglected, and what better way to start than with—Jesus fuck, what is that?” Ugly to be bone.
“In my mental compendium of underappreciated metal treasures, Hungary’s Sear Bliss holds a somewhat unique position. Though they’ve only released one truly great album in my eyes (2007’s The Arcane Odyssey), they have a relatively extensive back catalog of solid records, making them an easy selection whenever I want to throw on an uncomplicated black metal album that offers a few unique instrumental twists. The band’s incorporation of trombone had always delivered a distinct sense of heavy, brassy atmosphere that effectively combined second wave tropes with Summoning-esque majesty. With Letters from the Edge, the latter has stayed intact, but the former has fallen to the wayside in favor of something a bit more absorbing and melancholic.” Blackened trombone.
“Kill to survive; metal in 2018 is facing a similar conundrum, and has been for years. As the scene gets busier, it bleeds and struggles, much like extreme metal did in the mid-late nineties. Albert Mudrian’s Choosing Death showcases the problem ably: extreme bands simply had nowhere left to go. The glut of boring material is exhausting, and it gives the impression of an enervated scene. Pestilence, releasing their eighth studio record Hadeon this year, seems to feel this climate and have wisely decided to sound like a death metal band who loves making death metal.” A plague of death.
“With debut Collected Bones, Exoskelett produced a record that sounds like what would happen if some kids heard Morbid Tales coming from their older brother’s bedroom and then spent the next three weeks trying to recreate that feeling by jamming on busted pawn shop instruments and guzzling Mountain Dew in their parent’s basement.” Bones, Dew and disharmony.
Ereb Altor is a band I’ve reviewed more than almost any other since joining the AMG metal collective in 2010. They’re a prolific bunch and stick to a regular release schedule despite also releasing albums under the moniker Isole, and their material is consistently good if not great. Ulfven is their newest release, following 2016s Blot Ilt Taut which was a series of Bathory covers. This was appropriate as Quorthon has always been the wellspring from which the band draws their inspiration.” Reforge the sword.
“I’ve liked Dead Head for nearly a decade, though I haven’t thought of them in nearly that long. During one youthful torrent rampage, I collected an album for every letter of the alphabet; 2009’s Depression Tank served as the D. Titillated by the delightful mix of Panzer riffs and bullet belts, I patiently anticipated a follow-up, my naive exuberance skating right over Dead Head’s spotty release pattern.” Plagues before Swine.
“Two years ago, I had the pleasure of reviewing The Monolith Deathcult’s 2015 EP Bloodcvlts. And by ‘pleasure,’ I mean something else entirely. The band is everything Leave It to Beaver’s Eddie Haskell would be in reality. At first, the band seems like a serious, straight-laced Dutch death metal group. They seem polite and always outgoing, straight-to-the-point and never misleading. Then you discover the truth: that’s all bullshit.” Bloodcvlts, BS, Beaver.
“Being at the bridge between traditional and more extreme forms of metal, death-thrash isn’t a style with a lot of clout. There’s nothing inherently wrong with the sub-genre, but its middle ground status means that most peoples’ preferences fall to one side of the genre or the other. While there’s no denying the beauty of heavy metal, readers will recognize that I fall on the brutal side of the scale.” Brutality is a deathstyle choice.
