“Sometimes I only remember the days when I was young, yet nowadays no one else remembers when they were young and stupid. Sure, it’s kvlt and trendy to affect disdain or downright contempt for the genre, but Muppet sees your elitist bullshit and raises you one velvety middle finger: no one’s saying nü-metal was something to be proud of, but there’s a reason you all know how much it matters when one tries so hard and gets so far.” Nancy hates us.
“Cathedral left such a gaping hole in the doom metal scene when they dissolved back in 2013. Sure, they dabbled in some rather goofy disco moments, and 2010’s The Guessing Game was an exercise in headfuckery, but when they brought the heavy, it was delivered by a fleet of Mack trucks. Calling them a massive influence would be understating the obvious in extremes. So when younger bands such as Hampshire’s Witchsorrow come along with a sound eerily like their forefathers, I tend to get a bit weary. Now on their fourth album, Hexenhammer, the British trio hope to impress the grumpy old man-cat from Blashyrkh, Florida…” Lord Of Hexhammers.
“World’s Blood operates at a similar intersection of folk, atmospheric black metal, and progressive tendencies as Agalloch. I would make some terrible puns about if it can take up that mantle or if it would merely be a pale imitation of those folkloric influences but I won’t do so as a man of class.” Class is cancelled.
“The Angry Metal Promo Bin is a fickle mistress. She can conceal highly sought after treasures by surrounding them with infinite no-names, and she can trick you into believing that Rapture is Rapture. Worse yet, she mistags like a motherfucker, calling this genre that and slapping the black metal label on albums with wild abandon. It’s frustrating enough when selecting an unknown band only to find that she’s lied again, but there’s something even more personally offensive in seeing a band that you actually do know and love flagged under the wrong genre. Enter: Wilt’s Ruin, billed (like everything else) as black metal.” Black is the new bin.
“That is the power of Spock’s Beard, a band known for musical prowess, superb vocal harmonies, counterpoints, and friendliness. It’s been fifteen years since founder Neal Morse left the band (on the friendliest of terms of course), and although the band hasn’t reached the heights of yore, they’ve soldiered on with the best of intentions. Will Noise Floor, their thirteenth album, return them to past glories? Beards and noddles special.
“Let me cut to the chase: Zwischenwelt is a boring record. A really boring record. There’s no use to burying the lead or trying to lampshade the Snorlax in the room, you’ll probably figure it out after the sample track anyway. Pentarium’s 2016 debut Schwarzmaler – a decade’s worth of work distilled into fifty minutes of weapons-grade Ambien – should have been warning enough.” Zzzzzwischenwelt.
“Upon seeing that the new album by Grayceon was available, a band made up from former members of Giant Squid, Amber Asylum and Squalus, I decided to dip my toes back into neglected waters. Time to discover if good things come to those who wait.” Several more shades of Gray.
“It is hardly controversial to describe the Italian metal scene as ‘bombastic,’ or even ‘cheesy.’ Hell, it’s the go-to for basically everyone in the Anglosphere, even when talking about brutally heavy acts like Hour of Penance. So imagine my surprise when I turn over a rock and find an Italian act that defies those expectations!” Cheese famine.
“Lizard Secrets! LIZARD SECRETS! When sifting through the endless pile of gore-drenched and occult-themed album titles in the AMG promo bin, something as adorable as Lizard Secrets immediately stands out. As for Airborn themselves, well, they’ve had a tough time doing the same in the power metal scene over the past twenty two years of their existence, plugging along on a semi-regular release schedule that I had been completely unaware of until I plucked this album from the a(mg)ether.” I toad you that was a secret!
“The first time I heard Lordi was when everyone else did. It was 2006, they had just won Eurovision (never seen it; don’t care) and their third full-length, The Arockalypse, had hit the streets. I was driving down the 101 in Phoenix, having just purchased it on CD. It was early April, already hot as hell, and I didn’t have AC in my forest-green Geo Tracker. For my horrible mood, my sweat-soaked Yanks cap, and the t-shirt glued to the seat, I was, surprisingly, having a good time.” Lordi, Lordi.
