“Fórn: an Icelandic word which translates to “sacrifice.” This seems an appropriate name for a heavy metal band, with its reference to one of the most brutal metal nations, connotations of loss and quasi-religious overtones. Despite their name, Fórn are an American five-piece act operating primarily out of Boston.” Fórn addiction.
“Rare is the band that truly sounds like no one else. Either standing on the shoulders of giants, or innovating their way to hundreds of copycats, few have no comparable peers, followers, or ancestors. Madder Mortem, also known as Norway’s best-kept secret, are one of those bands.” Post-Madder Mortem.
“California’s Anisoptera have a lot going for them. Or, rather, as of the likely publish date of this review, they had one thing: an opening slot for Exist, Inferi, Beyond Creation, Archspire, and Obscura when the tech-death mega tour blasted its way through Oakland. Jørn knows that’s a lot of pressure, and to make matters worse, the band released their debut, Spawn of Odonata at that very show.” Spawn begone.
“Picture this, if you will. It’s Friday night, for at least a little while longer anyway. The air is thick with smoke and raised voices, illuminated only vaguely by various neon signs and their reflections off countless bottles and glasses. Here at the Angry Metal Bikerer Bar®, the music matches the mood: from a cramped corner masquerading as a stage, four angry metal guys unleash gravely growls and swagtastic riffage unto the leather and denim-clad patrons with a gritty little ditty titled ‘Ain’t No Party ‘Til You Hurt Somebody.'” Far beyond dreidel.
“As a longtime fan of Testament, that I’d somehow missed Dragonlord until now came as a bit of a surprise. Testament guitarist Eric Peterson founded the project as a way to showcase his kvlt kred, and released two albums in the 00’s that can loosely be described as Dimmu Borgir-adjacent. Since then, they’ve slogged through a quagmire of line-up changes, label problems, and scheduling conflicts. That Dominion is here at all is impressive.” New Testament.
“Way back in 2015, the great Al Kikuras gave a review of The Third Eye Gate, the debut album from Floridian black metal act Gnosis. In that review, he eloquently explained the tightrope balance of empathizing as a musician, how difficult it must be to watch someone rip an album you worked on diligently to shreds, as well as the hard work of being a reviewer doing said shredding. It’s a complete and utter duality that, as a fellow part-time musician, I can completely relate to. After all, it’s never fun to put your heart and soul into something, just to watch someone tear it to pieces. And with that, three years later, they return with The Offering of Seven and I am the man-cat to review it.” Art and punishment.
“Wow, it’s been three years since I reviewed Dalkhu’s Descend… into Nothingness? Where in the hell has the time gone? When I reviewed it, a new life had just begun for me, right when this fantastic black/death record dropped in my lap. Ever since then, I’ve come back to Descend… with regularity. Not only is it an exceptional piece of deathy Dissection but it marked a huge progression for Dalkhu. Within one release, the band morphed from the sharp—and, sometimes, unpleasant—attacks of the blackened Imperator to the polished, passioned, and death-centered Descend… As one would expect, I had high hopes for more of the same treatment from this year’s Lamentation and Ardent Fire. But, it seems, the band is incapable of sitting still.” Mud, fire, death.
“Remember when you “cleaned out” your basement and swept a pile of concrete, paint chips, and earwig corpses into the corner? Malthusian broke into your house, snorted it, and recorded Across Deaths there while you were at work. This album will give you an asthma attack and reduce your children’s IQ by ten points.” Population control metal.
“I have a love-hate relationship with progressive metal, particularly power prog. Several of my all-time favorite acts are prog as fuck, or at least dip their toe in those waters. However, not many musicians know how to actually write progressively, bloating the scene with bland mediocrity. This is true of most music of course, but it’s particularly heartbreaking to see in genres with so much potential. So where do Ethernity, our new Belgian acquaintances, fit into this?” Prog extinction.
I remember when the term “blackened death metal” meant your standard meat-and-potatoes death metal seasoned with just the right selection of herbs, spices, and daemonic ash rubbed in to give it that extra zing. “The term meant brutality in spades, blasts upon blasts bombarding you like an overzealous kid during dodgeball at a standard Phys. Ed. class, and growls that dragged you into the bowels of Hell, sucking your soul as you sit there and smile as life ebbs from your very pores. Nowadays, though? “Blackened death metal,” more often than not, encapsulates anything from the above scenario to bells, whistles, choirs, sweep-picked arpeggios, and a kitchen sink or two. Thankfully, Rhode Island’s Witch King brought it back to basics with their debut full-length, Voice of the Ossuary.” Blackened witchery.
