A decade in to his AMG tenure, Grymm is here to tell you what the best albums of 2023 were! The Listurnalian bounty abounds!
Morrow
Harmagedon – Dystopian Dreams Review
“I’ve got to come clean with you folks; there are times when I review bands that have nothing to do with the pedigree of the involved players, or the fervent word-of-mouth presented by the metal music sites at large. No, I tend to grab bands based on their names, or how bizarre the genre combinations appear on screen. Hence, today’s subject, Swedish trio Harmagedon, was described in our promo bin as “melodeath/crust,” and with a mental imagery of In Flames-by-way-of-Morrow soundscape, I was curious as to what that apparent trainwreck could sound like. I mean, who wouldn’t want a lil’ moonshield in their post-apocalyptic emokrusty adventure, right?” Eat your crust!
Grymm’s Top Ten(ish) of 2022
Grymm has tidings of musical wisdom in his Top Ten(ish) of 2022. Partake of it.
Morrow – The Quiet Earth Review
“When you mention epic storytelling, your brain will zero in on the usual suspects: novels (The Lord of the Rings), movies (Star Wars), and video games (Mass Effect). Music normally doesn’t spring to mind unless you’re aware of the work of Alex CF. The former Fall of Efrafa vocalist crafted an epic tale of post-apocalyptic tribalism that has spanned not only eight releases so far, but across three separate bands: the sludgy futuristic Archivist, the overdriven doom of Anopheli, and today’s band, the downtrodden-yet-defiantly hopeful Morrow.” Unquiet epics.
Den – Iron Desert Review
“Think about running a marathon. Through the desert. On one leg. With gastroenteritis. And no map. This is how difficult it is to forge a unique and compelling sound in the saturated world of metal. Bands generally either go super heavy, or adopt a hybrid sound of some kind. But when you have bands like An Autumn for Crippled Children combining dream-pop with black metal, and Devourment making music so dense it almost absorbs light, what is a band to do? Well, if they have the balls, they could try to do both. Enter Den, a band that wants to offer you a joint, then smash it unceremoniously through your skull after two tokes.” Heavy sand.
Agenda – Apocalyptic Wasteland Blues Review
“Crust is the only category of punk that’s ever successfully lured me into its slime-stained grip, and that isn’t just because it’s a close cousin of metal. I find comfort in its narrow scope; the reliance on d-beat, drunken harsh vocals, and melodic chord progressions played in ceaseless triplets make for beautifully simple and reliably satisfying tropes. Listening to any new crust album is like a visit from an old friend, except that friend is every crust act to ever exist, and they all smell equally.” Stench agendas.
Grymm’s and Kronos’ Top Ten of 2018
Grymm and Kronos have been a this metal review thing a long, long time. Therefore, their Top Ten lists should be considered essential reading. Read and learn.
Huck N’ Roll’s and Eldritch Elitist’s Top Ten of 2018
The top tens are marching, and Huck N’ Roll and Eldritch are ready to spread the gospel of good metal across the land. You wanted lists, you got lists!
Morrow – Fallow Review
“UK emokrust collective Morrow dropped a massive debut on my lap in 2016 in the form of Covenant of Teeth, an engrossing 4-song album that told a tale of a futuristic society where Earth was so ravaged by humankind’s assault of its natural resources that they became tribal again. The marriage of poetic lyrics, visceral vocals, and a sad-yet-ragingly-defiant musical backdrop lingered in my psyche long after my review was published. In fact, truth be told, it’s all I listened to this past Christmas season, not only to keep my mind occupied and my energy maintained, but also because the follow-up, Fallow, was due to drop in the spring of this year. So imagine my surprise when Fallow was released as a “name your price” release on the band’s Bandcamp over Christmas Eve last year, with a physical release soon.” Grymm surprises.
Distances – Diableries Review
“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.
