“I was once pretty optimistic about the future, but in recent years my outlook has grown progressively more dismal. Humanity has continued to ravage the planet while conveniently ignoring the fact that perpetual growth is impossible, and the result will be a future more nightmarish than a thousand blackened sludge bands could ever conjure. Of course, that doesn’t stop them from trying, and few succeed at evoking these apocalyptic images as well as Abstracter.” Dismal cool.
“I’m sure you’re wondering, dear reader, what happened to my face, hair, and clothes. No? Thank the technology of writing that you have been saved from witnessing the apotheosis of dishevelment which clacks away at this keyboard. But now, thanks again to the technology of writing, you are wondering just that. Funny how that works, isn’t it?” Grist for the grind.
“When a band comes out of the woods calling themselves an occult rock band, I can’t help but think of Ghost. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t particularly think of Ghost when I think of occult rock (I more think of those odd, ritualistic LaVey recordings I’ve heard) but that seems to be the way many o’ metalhead think. The silly Satanic lyrics, the soaring vocals and the doomy, gloomy, rocking, old-school riffs of Opus Eponymous are what people associate “occult rock” with these days. On the immediate surface, Norway’s Acârash don’t disagree with this assessment of occult rock but, boy, do they have a darker, blacker outlook on the style.” Ghost reveries.
“The heartiest slabs of sludge evoke a menagerie of crooked emotions. The cranking monotony of a repetitive riff, drenched in reverb and ambient noise, appeals to me at a most basic level. There’s something primal in the galloping crusty thump of a Conan track, something breathtakingly heart-wrenching in the western-tones of an Inter Arma track, something honest, stark and beautiful in the unique patterns of The Melvins. Each band balances creative flair with straight-forward aggression, though. When a voluptuous and extravagant song becomes too self-indulgent a switch to crushing straight-as-an-arrow slabcraft can drag it back into the dirty pits we crave.” Into the pits!
“Not a lot of bands last twenty years, and even fewer do so with no real lineup changes. British stoner rock stalwarts Orange Goblin are a rare breed: aside from losing second guitarist Pete O’Malley long ago, the other four members have stood fast since 1995. Two things usually happen in these cases: first, the band gets incredibly tight, with fantastic chemistry. Twenty-three years together will do that. On the flip side, more often than not the songwriting suffers (see: Angry Metal Guy’s Law of Diminishing Recordings™). Bands turn into caricatures of what they are most famous for.” Orange you glad the Goblin’s back?
“Steel doesn’t cry. Nor does Steel run, hide or eat soy-based food stuffs. He does however partake liberally of 80 heavy metal, and that’s how Crying Steel came under his iron gaze ov chrome. Hailing from Italy, this retro rocking outfit has bounced around for quite some time, managing to release a series of albums from 2007 onward, of which Stay Steel is the fourth. They describe their style as NWoIHM (New Wave of Italian Heavy Metal), which in practice sounds suspiciously like the First Wave of American Metal Inspired by the New Wave of British Heavy Metal.” Waves and metal tears.
“Every successful album, of every genre of music you can imagine, relies on a few key characteristics to make it the monumental album people herald over time. Perhaps it’s the timeliness of the album’s subject matter and how it ties in to what’s going on in the world today. Maybe it’s the originality of the blend of influences a band’s been combining to make something fresh. Most often than not, though, most timeless albums share a single common thread. In other words, the album just flows like an everflowing stream of (insert flow-y liquid/substance here). Norway’s instrumentalists Spurv harness the ability to flow on their third album, Myra.” Faux Mantle, real post-rock.
“What a swell dude Rogga Johansson is. Even though he is getting ever closer to having a band for every letter of the alphabet, he still finds time to assist his buddies with their songwriting troubles. One such buddy is Michael “MHA” Andersen, managing director of Danish label Mighty Music and frontman for death metal band Thorium.” A Rogga for every season.
“When post-metal is done right it’s so mothersludgin’ right. It gets a bad rap from some for its lack of definable riffs, pretentiousness, and bloated structures, but it’s one of those styles that can grip and shake your core like no other. It’s a patient, reflective, solitary sub-genre that does require a certain state of mind for the juice of an album to be extracted. Sometimes you’ll be met with a thick wall of repetitiveness that cannot be penetrated, other times with a sloppy mush of watery crescendos and vocals. Sometimes, though, you’ll encounter a beast of an album that throbs with the force of a membranous world-eater, an oozing, atmosphere-drenched annihilator that secretes a vitriolic self-loathing power into your mind as you listen.” Celtic rage.
“Life can often be confusing, gross and unnecessarily sticky. Three words one might use to describe Canada’s Tomb Mold, who, after tearing classic death metal asunder with 2017’s debut, Primordial Malignity, have since returned with an expanded line-up and another installation of their corporal jigsore quandry. Manor of Infinite Forms arrives rancid, raucous and ready to rot.” Rotting in the free world.
