“Conjurer purports to simply be “riff music,” but they’ve perhaps unintentionally made some of the most atmospheric music right alongside. Riffs, just as in the case of Mire, feel somewhere between Bolt Thrower and Isis, while passages of doom heft and post-rock clarity grace the negative spaces.” Genre hoarders.
“I’m not sure how everyone got their start with metal, but there had to be a bit of a transition to the more extreme stuff, unless you eat nails for breakfast while listening to Cryptopsy’s None So Vile. Unlike you sausage or oatmeal or vegemite shippers who are descended from the yesteryears of heavy, thrash, or doom, I enjoy my eggs with my bacon: my origins of Christian metalcore a la Demon Hunter, Haste the Day, and Oh Sleeper stick with me. While metalcore has not been the kindest to me thus far in 2021, I’m always rooting for any that may wander across my lap like a feral kitten. Is Nothing Noble available for adoption?” Dismay Day.
Serena Cherry has a knack for melody. In her storied career with Svalbard, the charismatic vocalist and guitarist has co-written and performed a decade of melodic hardcore tinged with post-hardcore, post-metal, and black metal. Now, Cherry tries a little something different in her new solo project Noctule, hoping to “spread her dragon wings and take off in an intriguing musical direction on her own. A labor of love and isolation, Cherry composed and recorded the Noctule debut while in the UK Coronavirus lockdown. Opposed to the melodic hardcore leanings of Svalbard, she now bets it all on black in blackened release Wretched Abyss, an album themed after the popular RPG Skyrim.” Dragon, why do you cry?
“It’s hard to have hope sometimes. We live our lives constantly getting up and going, always moving onto the next thing—moths chasing flames that grow more elusive as the dawn approaches. We’re tortured by silence in a screaming year, laced with events of turmoil and perpetual change—a silver silence that holds a mirror up to our faces and our truths. And we don’t always like what we see. It’s hard to have hope when we’re distracted, romanced by the illusion of productivity, blinded by privilege, and shielding our weary eyes from discomfort. This is what makes Svalbard so important; they force us to look.” Dying to heal.
“During my short tenure at AMG, I’ve discovered the magical terror that is the Promo Bin. While it is a World War I-esque no man’s land of one-man black metal carpet bombs, awkwardly rumbling deathcore tanks, nu-metal mustard gas, and experimental drone-doom PTSD, you can find some gems in the trenches while the good Lord Himself picks us, contributors, off one by one. It’s a trve and rvthless battle of good vs. evil, light vs. dark, Jedi vs. Sith, Kramer vs. Kramer, power metal vs. actual metal. It’s all about balance, after all.”
“Knock knock, open up the door: it’s real metal! Non-stop and popping, it’s Steel and crew going hard and getting busy dropping trvth bombs on everybody’s asses. Here at AMG, a squad of rough writers rolls through the block, putting in work for all you kids who don’t know where the Hooded Menace is at, and it ain’t about the dough; it’s about being down for what you all stand for, fuck waiting for you to get it on your own. AMG is all about that chug life, his homies find the metal and share the wealth, and we all say thank ya.” Core runs through it.
