Dr. Wvrm takes time away from his busy n00b kicking schedule to drop his Top Ten(ish) of 2019 because he cares.
The Great Old Ones
Grymm’s and Kronos’ Top Ten(ish) of 2019
Grymm and Kronos serve up a rich helping of metal opinions with their Top Ten(ish) of 2019.
The Great Old Ones – Cosmicism Review
“It’s tough to sell a band like The Great Old Ones, who from a passing glance could be accused of ad libbing modern metal tropes. Lovecraftian concepts? Obviously. An indulgence in black metal’s modern, atmospheric trappings? You bet. Adorable matching outfits and manscaped beards? Like you even have to ask. Yet the band speaks for themselves. Unlike so many of their contemporaries in the current black metal scene, they morph the stale post-black aesthetic into something monumental and individualistic, a sound that reimagines post-black metal through an uncommonly aggressive lens.” Olde shadows grow greater.
K.F.R. – Démonologue Review
“As I stare into the night sky, casting wishes and cigarette smoke to a lonely moon, a faint tapping sound breaks the silence and the grip of my reverie. I peer into the surrounding dark, curious as to who or what might be sharing this moment with me, but the hushed scenery offers no evidence of an intrusion. I shrug off this immaterial disruption and redirect my gaze towards my lunar companion, when something catches my eye; there, at the skirt of the moonlit lake that I’ve come to sit and think beside, stands a ghost. Before the icy grip of panic can steer my body into a flight of terror, I realize that this spectre is but a reflection in the water—and I am no less relieved.” Keep your sock puppets inside the ride at all times.
The Projectionist – Visits from the Nighthag Part 1 Review
“In the dying throes of September, as the foliage descends with the temperature and the year draws closer to its inevitable demise, the cool breezes of the approaching winter whisper like ghosts warning of death to come; ’tis the season for socially acceptable revelry in the spooky side ov things, and haunts ‘n horrors are in the air in Canada — at least, they were when The Projectionist carved out their seriously sinister sophomore LP, Visits From the Nighthag Part 1.” Hag reflex.
Rise of Avernus – Eigengrau Review
“Labeled as “Orchestral Doom Death” in AMG’s top-secret promo vault, I figured this Australian act would at the very least make for an interesting listening experience regardless of quality, and with Eigengrau being their second LP, it’s more likely that they’d have their ambitious sound already dialed in. Indeed, Eigengrau is far from boring, and even quite good at times, but Rise of Avernus’ identity crisis makes it a regularly frustrating listen.” Symphony of frustration.
Grymm’s and Kronos’ Top Ten(ish) of 2017
The Lord of Brvtality and the Immortal Mancat have deigned to deliver Top Ten(ish) lists for the masses. Let them eat metal cake.
Dr Wvrm and Eldritch Elitist’s Top Ten(ish) of 2017
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages: Jørn proudly brings to you the hall door swingin’, poser metal slingin’, the not brvtal enough, not even once, the Great Old Weenie, Eldritch Elitist, the Basic Bitch, Dr. Wvrm, the Shame of Angry Metal Guy.” Yeah, that’s about right.
Der Weg einer Freiheit – Finisterre Review
“Their sound is an excellent encapsulation of the dynamic nature of modern black metal, splicing post-black sensibilities with melodic bombastic and explosive drum performances. Due to the misguided hype, their fourth LP, Finisterre, was inescapably disappointing for my first few spins; much of what I love about Der Weg einer Freiheit’s prior album’s just isn’t here. With time, though, Finisterre blossomed into what I now regard as a complicated work of heartbreaking beauty, becoming the most impressive ‘grower’ of the year in the process.” Finisterre. Oh, Finisterre baby….
Crafteon – Cosmic Reawakening Review
“Cthulhu rises from the depths. Seawater cascades in waterfalls down its body; its colossal form dwarfs a nearby castle, a monument to mankind’s delusions of superiority as if it were some child’s plaything. The logo in the top left reads “Crafteon,” a nod to Lovecraftian[1. Get it? Huh? Do ya?] fiction, complete with dangling tentacles. Sure, this album’s exterior presentation pretty much screams “Eldritch bait,” but you know what? This is my 50th review for AMG, and I feel like indulging my base impulses in celebration.” Celebrate with Cthulhu!
