“Quebecois trio Shezmu, formed in 2016, already sports a startup of two EPs and a demo compilation, ultimately culminating in their first full-length, À Travers Les Lambeaux. I hesitate to label the project, because if there existed a Venn diagram of black, death, and doom, it would be smack dab in the middle.” Extremity buffet.
“In spite of listening to this stuff for the better part of my life now, I still realize how much I don’t know about so many sub-sub-subgenres, such as doom’s vast array. While I delved into the melodic death flavors of Saturnus, Swallow the Sun, and Novembers Doom, I let the cavernous stuff pass me by. It all comes full circle, when Swedish duo Saltas punishes me with a lethal dose of suffocatingly dense doom to whom comparisons are sparse.” Saltas the earth.
“Modern life is safe. Extreme danger and fear are rare, which makes experiences that mimic them memorable. The genre of depressive/suicidal black metal (DSBM) appears to support this, because not much is more extreme than profound depression and suicide. Yet those of us who listen, do so because it makes us feel better; that dabbling in the pain through music lessens its impact in the real world.” Depression lite.
“I wish I was born with the ability to remain blissfully ignorant, especially when it comes to the music you and I enjoy. For starters, my output would increase exponentially from not saying “fuck this bullshit” due to bands promoting questionable beliefs this calendar year alone, and I would most likely review an album at face value. Oh, and I would relish in the sheer joy of ignoring the fact sheet that comes packed with about 75% of the music we review. What am I getting at, you may ask? Tetanus Mystique, the second album by French “blackened” death metal merchants Mithridatic, is based on writer Roger Gilbert-LeComte, and his getting high by injecting tetanus into himself. Lovely. Oh, and the album prides itself on being an unflinching look into mental illness and stability.” Bad science.
“Kameron Bogges isn’t exactly a household name. In fact, prior to today’s review, the only thing I had to go by is that he’s the sole proprietor of one-man experimental act Four Hoove Death Pig, who has an album dedicated to baking banana bread under its belt. Sadly, about a year or so, Bogges suffered the all-too-real hospitalization brought on by what I can imagine would be a manic episode and was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. The ongoing struggle, as well as coping with such a maligned mental health condition, inspired I’m Losing Myself, released under the guise of An Isolated Mind.” Reflections on a struggle.
“So, yeah: Woe Betide You is a pretty sweet album. It’s not necessarily fighting for a spot on my current list of AotY candidates, yet Woe Betide You is one of the most dynamic albums I’ve reviewed to date, right up there with Great Leap Skyward‘s Map of Broken Dreams.” Infestivus.
“Dødsferd is one strange duck. If there was a band you could sue for false advertising, it would be this one. I still remember the shock of hearing the band’s debut, Desecrating the Spirit of Life. I mean, how did this one get by me? I thought I’d heard every ’90s Norwegian black metal gem out there. After my friend realized I wasn’t joking, he gently corrected me. ‘Dude, these guys are from Greece and this is brand new.'” Contract the disease.
“Today’s Horna-meets-Gorgoroth-meets-The Deathtrip second-wave sound is courtesy of Finland’s Rodent Epoch. Admittedly, when I first read the band name and saw the album title, I couldn’t help but think of that villain from the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoons. Which made me question Rodent Epoch‘s debut full-length, Rodentlord: is it a cartoon or is it for real? Let’s see what this Rat King thing is all about.” Vermin, vermout.
“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.
“With the recent reunion of At the Drive-In, hopes have never been higher for a rekindling of the fire under the asses of Omar Rodríguez-López and Cedric Bixler-Zavala – a fire which produced the best prog rock albums of the 2000s. And given the rate at which Rodríguez-López currently produces LPs (about one a month for the past two years), it might not be long before there’s a new The Mars Volta album collecting saliva on turntables everywhere. But that doesn’t mean substitutes aren’t welcome.” We take whats we can gets.
