Prosthetic Records

Meth. – Mother of Red Light Review

Meth. – Mother of Red Light Review

“Do you enjoy life? Do you feel like we are living in a world that is beautiful and rich in spite of the flaws of us humans? Do you look forward to each new day, full of light and possibilities? Well, fuck you, you worthless pile of nothing. We’re all but stains of blood encrusting the crime scene that is society, the festering remnants of everything good a long forgotten memory that is buried deep beneath the tar pits of our dying planet. That is the sentiment Meth. express with Mother of Red Light.” Beaten back to zero.

Howling Sycamore – Seven Pathways to Annihilation Review

Howling Sycamore – Seven Pathways to Annihilation Review

“Last year’s self-titled debut from prog “supergroup” Howling Sycamore was one of my more positive surprises. On paper it shouldn’t have really worked: extreme drumming married to down-tuned guitars, then mashed in with over the top old-school vocals and the occasional crazed baritone sax. Yet the whole thing gelled in some weird, freakish way, and I was left hoping it wasn’t a one-off project. Well, here we are less than a year and a half later, with Seven Pathways to Annihilation, the band’s follow-up.” Screaming trees.

All Hell – The Witch’s Grail Review

All Hell – The Witch’s Grail Review

“Comfort food. Whether you’re a cuisine snob who frequents Michelin-star restaurants or an amateur cook trying new recipes for the family, odds are that there are times when you don’t want anything too fancy. Food you can fall back on that hits all the right spots without being too challenging or demanding. Mac and cheese, if you’re like me. The kind of blackened thrash that North Carolina’s All Hell produces is my musical equivalent of comfort food. It’s not mind-bending in its complexity (like, say, Dodecahedron) or emotionally demanding (lookin’ at you, Bell Witch and Ataraxie). But when you’ve had a bad day at the office, or life’s getting you down with its quotidian mundanity, All Hell and their ilk are there to get put a contented smile on your face while those neck muscles flex in appreciation.” Feel the Hell.

Paladin – Ascension Review

Paladin – Ascension Review

“In my early days of metal fandom, there was a period of roughly two years – spanning from the time I stumbled upon DragonForce,‘s Inhuman Rampage to when I began exploring Darkthrone‘s discography – where I listened to nothing except for power metal and thrash. During this period, as I worked on my sloppy renditions of “Eagle Fly Free” and “Battery” on a cheap Yamaha electric guitar my parents picked up at a department store, I had an epiphany: why the fuck hasn’t anyone mashed up the two best genres in the world?” One mash, coming up!

Varaha – A Passage for Lost Years Review

Varaha – A Passage for Lost Years Review

“Those of us at not familiar with Vektor shot some great shit around the AMG office bilge warmer when we first heard that Terminal Redux was going to be 73 minutes long. A thrash album coming in at over an hour long? Don’t these wankers know that I could listen to Reign in Blood two-and-a-half times instead of their shitty album? We all know how that went down. Suffice it to say that the Reign in Blood rule can at times be violated. Yet it still surprised me when Varaha took their 47-minute-long atmospheric-goth-doom-etc. album and, in stuffing another 21 minutes of orchestral interlude tracks in, somehow improved the record.” Binge without guilt.

The Machinist – Confidimus in Morte Review

The Machinist – Confidimus in Morte Review

“Those who liked deathcore in its mid-2000s heyday tend to go through three phases in the following order: 1) earnestly liking deathcore, 2) loudly decrying deathcore to demonstrate one’s extreme metal fides, and 3) earnestly liking deathcore again with the added fun of nostalgia. This nostalgia doesn’t make bad music good, but rather recalls times, places, experiences, and memories where deathcore served as the soundtrack. Those times made us happy, and the soundtrack is what it is because that’s the soundtrack we chose. It follows that deathcore made us happy at one point. The vicarious thrill of great memories scored by it bolsters the appeal of the sounds which drew us in to begin with. You may not be able to go home again, but sometimes spinning the old records left in the dusty crates is wonderful.” The first step is admitting you have a problem.

Wormwitch – Heaven That Dwells Within Review

Wormwitch – Heaven That Dwells Within Review

“I’m trying to be stricter with my scores so far this year, and in the process I’ve done a lot of thinking about what makes a great record… well, great. I could boil it down to some nebulous combination of songwriting, riffs, and melodic personality, but solid fundamentals aren’t enough. Those qualities alone would only result in an AMG 3.5 without that all important je ne sais quoi; the kind of elusive talent which enables moments that explode with vibrancy, reminding us why we are alive. And Wormwitch? Man alive, they’ve got it.” The early Wormwitch gets the Elitist.

Sermon – Birth of the Marvellous Review

Sermon – Birth of the Marvellous Review

“I’ve said it before: we love finding gems amongst the post-apocalyptic ruins of the promo bin. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does it is glorious. Perhaps the name Lör rings a bell? How about The Reticent? Heck, we can throw King Goat in there as well. All examples of unknown acts whose music blew us away. It’s a big part of why we review albums, to be honest. Sure the 0.5 and 1.0 reviews can be entertaining, but we would much rather have people talking about (and buying) the music rather than the review. Which makes me pretty happy to say I’ve found my latest gem in Birth of the Marvellous.” You look…Marvellous!

Venom Prison – Samsara Review

Venom Prison – Samsara Review

“The band’s grindy, slammy death metal draws many parallels to Cattle Decaptitation, whether it’s their everything-but-the-kitchen sink approach to riffing, their sudden outbursts of groove, or their vicious takes on social injustice. Samsara has no dull edges, no safe entrances, and a complete lack of regard for your safety.” Limited safe spaces.