“Headed up by pianist, keyboardist, and classically-trained composer Pierre Le Pape, Melted Space represents an ambitious attempt to unify heavy metal with an opera, featuring a full orchestra and a cohort of guest vocalists and musicians which would make Arjen Lucassen (of Ayreon) and Tobias Sammet (of Avantasia) think twice.”Go big or go back to the conservatory.
“”The meaning of life is that it stops.” – Franz Kafka, doom metal luminary. If there’s one genre of our beloved tumult that, above all others, wants nothing more than to ponder death in all of its final implication, it’s, ironically, not death metal. Doom be thy name and death be Dautha’s, a Swedish band plying the same Candlemasstery that incites many a metalhead to rage against the Dying of the Bride.” Doomed to death.
“No joke: the day I found out Death Alley’s new record was coming out, I was jamming hard to Captain Beyond and Blue Öyster Cult. It was as if my craving for some old-school rock reached across the ocean to the Netherlands. Not only did Death Alley hear my call, they answered it—with Superbia. Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t much for religious interventions or anything but, my god, I almost picked up the Bible after that.” It’s bible good!
“Finding myself with a little free time on my hands this past week, I decided to snag an extra promo from the sump and try my luck with some unknown acts. I got lucky enough with Last Days of Eden, so I doubled down and went back for more, grabbing a promo from Virginia’s Freedom Hawk, and wouldn’t you know it, I’m on a bit of a roll here..” Freedom rock.
“Your parents, guidance counselor, and teachers were right: you don’t get a second chance at a first impression. This is why The Crown will always be a wonderfully over-the-top and high energy death-tinged thrash band to my ears. Deathrace King introduced me to their work, opening with the perfectly titled “Deathexplosion.” Johan Lindstrand’s shout of “FIRE!” over a fast, aggressive, and simple riff sold me on the band and their brand of metal immediately.” Snakes on speed.
“On my desk as I claw at this review with a case of writer’s block so bad it’s like I chewed and swallowed an entire roll of Bubble Tape, is a copy of Necrophobic’s 1991 Unholy Prophecies demo. A benchmark in Satanic death metal that I am hoping will be the Metalmucil for my literary constipation.” Get regular for Satan.
“Distances’ Diableries has a pretty cover, but one I’ll always remember for a subtle flaw. The Albuquerque-based post-metal unit’s new full length comes beautifully dressed in auburn hues, cloaked in North American fauna. Monarch butterflies cloak the figure, and wrapped around the neck — sorry, what kind of snake is that? Some unholy graft of king snake and rattler, it seems. Perhaps it’s a symbol — the harmless given fangs — though it seems hardly worth it to have a dangerous snake mimic a harmless snake that mimics a dangerous snake. Yet the album embodies these conflicting layers, shuttling its death metal riffing past a mournful violin resting on aphotic sludge muck. Is Diableries dangerous? Or is it a lonely soul, wearing another’s colors to ward us away?” Serpent surprise.
“Remember Dodecahedron, oooh and how a certain timeless scribe-god lauded their last effort as being worthy of emulation? Yeah, I ‘member, and I also ‘member thinking the lad a tad light in the heart box when he confessed to its ability to bring him to actual physical discomfort. ‘That’s not a thing!’ says I, omitting a slanderous phrase or six from this recollection for the sake of the children. Dialing up the reverb and deliberately hitting ‘wrong’ notes can establish a malevolent aesthetic effectively enough, yet I have never encountered music genuinely able to instill honest-to-God fear in me through sound alone. Well, ‘had’ never.” Fear and the Muppet.
“We here at Angry Metal Guy have a fraught relationship with Between the Buried and Me. Some of us — we’ll call these apes Team Kronos —despise their lack of cohesion, and their penchant for piling myriad ideas into each ‘song,’ while others — we’ll call these clowns Team Fisting — love the insane technicality and complex ‘arrangements.’ I consider myself mostly on the fence but leaning somewhat towards Team Kronos. At times BTBAM blow my mind, but at many other times, I just sit there with a blank look of confusion on my face, wondering why all five guys insist on playing different songs at the same time.” Choose sides, bury stuff.
“Cave Bastard are this week’s victor of the trusted ‘choosing a band to review on the basis of cool name’ game which characterizes so much of my work here. Such name amused me.” Amuse then abuse – that is the way of Cave Bastards.
