“An amalgamation of sludgy riffs, frantic drumming, and some caustic vocals by Graham Christian that recalls a beloved British band with the word “iron” in their name, Cruickshank’s debut throws an awful lot of thematically disparate sounds together, but they mostly mesh decently.” Grind n’ shank.
“I fucking hate the promo sump. It lies, cheats and steals more than the whoriest ov my exes, and successfully cons me into infinite second chances just as often. This time, she – the bin, not the bad news boo – really outdid herself, preying on my spite and my lust for redemption following my second 4.5 in this year ov our Jørn 2019; she promised me metalcore, guys, she said she’d give me something trite and untrve, but instead she gave me Cable. Not only are they exactly 0% metalcore, but these Connecticut creeps can actually kick a competent amount of kiester, woe Discordia.” Sumpin’ sumpin’.
“Metal, especially doom metal, is uniquely equipped to convey the existential threat of environmental disaster at the largest scale, the human systems that are causing it, and the inadequacy of those same systems to mitigate it. Enter eco-doom band Sūrya. Greg, one of the guitarists, had this to say in a recent Cvlt Nation interview: ‘Some metal bands like to write songs about fucking wizards and Satan and I’m fully into that as theater and entertainment. But the sheer rapacity of capitalism and the epoch we find ourselves in, the Anthropocene, is the scariest thing imaginable. It’s just so fucking bleak.'” The future bleak.
“High Fighter’s debut album Scars & Crosses was a largely laidback affair, according to a cursory listen from yours truly, featuring groovy stoner metal, played at a mid tempo, with its most distinguishing feature being vocalist Mona Miluski and her sardonic vocal style. Well, clearly High Fighter are coming down from their high and focusing on the fighter, because Champain is anything but laid back. The Germans are ready to get angry.” And that always goes so well for everyone.
“There is, at least to my ears, a point at which doom, stoner rock, and sludge all intersect, at which point it’s hard to definitively class a band one thing or the other. This is perhaps unsurprising, given the common roots these sub-genres all share in Black Sabbath, Pentagram, Trouble, et al. And it is this murky, fuzzy point of overlap that Portland, Oregon four-piece Tar Pit inhabit and do so quite knowingly and unashamedly.” Stuck in the pit.
“Trumpeting Ecstasy’s untempered viciousness and surprising experimentation was a breath of putrid air amongst the usual Cherd-bait of 2017. Had I been employed by this hallowed site at the time, I would have seriously considered slapping a 4.5 on it and endured the cries of ‘Overrating bastard!’ hurled at me from my superiors. So when I saw follow-up Weeping Choir pop into our promo bin, I jumped on it faster than Game of Thrones’ quality tanked once it outstripped the books.” Hallowed grind.
“During the Great N00b Off, I told myself that, should I one day be given unchaperoned access to the promo bin, I absolutely would not choose a band purely on the basis of its name. I would do my research and make an informed decision. So, following my first foray into the promo bin sans Steel Druhm, take a bow John, the Void, a band I chose purely for its name.” What’s in a name?
“The songs on Love & Decay are post-metal in structure with moments of sludge/doom heft, but damn it if Spotlights don’t frequently sound like My Bloody Valentine started down tuning their guitars and forgot to stop. Or like a much heavier Starflyer 59 back when they were accused of being a My Bloody Valentine knock-off. If you’re not following, take a break and go listen to Loveless. We’ll still be here when you get back.” Up in lights.
“Inter Arma will not be pigeonholed. They’ve repeated this statement with each subsequent release, evolving subtly across a range of styles, but always sounding unmistakably like themselves. When a new album was announced for 2019, I quickly contacted resident man cat Grymm, who glowingly reviewed 2016’s Paradise Gallows, and pathetically begged confidently informed him that I would be handling this one. He pitied me respected my assertiveness and relinquished review duties.” Burning expectations.
“I’ll be the first to admit that I know precious little about the technical process of recording an album. The musician side of things is easy enough to grasp, but the technicians who collect, mix, and master the sounds thrown out into the ether may as well be a sect of wizards engaged in super secret wiz biz. Although I don’t understand how they do their jobs—I imagine it involves summoning Akathla, demon of the Low End—I do know that the decisions they make are ultimately aesthetic ones. This means when it comes to production, it’s not so much about if it’s good or bad, but whether or not it works with the music to create an aesthetic you enjoy.” Noise to the grindstone.
