Saunders, Huck and Cherd deliver their weighty Top Ten(ish) lists and try to get along in the process.
Worm
WORM – Foreverglade Review
“Over a year and a half ago, Floridian band WORM released Gloomlord, a funeral/death doom album that marked a left turn for the former black metal outfit. I found it below average. Remarkably, my proclamation of its deficiencies wasn’t enough to keep others from enjoying it. The absolute fucking nerve. An inordinate number of other metal polymaths in the blogosphere sang its dolorous praises to the point that I wondered if maybe I had been mistaken, as rare an occurrence as that may be. When follow-up Foreverglade was announced, I decided to revisit Gloomlord, and I found it…about the same. Two good tracks and three duds. As I hit play on Foreverglade, I mentally prepared to be the bearer of bad reviews a second time.” The WORM has turned.
Wormlight – Nightmother Review
“Nightmother is a malevolent ode to the “unholy feminine.” The band promises an “opus bereft of the warmth of the womb” and a “sublime and bacchanal celebration of matriarchal sovereignty.” I’m not 100% sure what this all means, but it looks suitably fun and debauched. The sound Wormlight employs is a (relatively) accessible form of melodic black metal.” Happy Nightmother’s Day!
Worm – Gloomlord Review
“It never bodes well when a writer with squatter’s rights to a promo doesn’t raise a fuss when you snatch it from them. I selected Floridian death-doom band Worm’s second album Gloomlord from our putrid promo pit without doing my due diligence to see if they had been covered on the site before. Turns out they have, and the good Dr. Wvrm wasn’t even a little sorry to see this one go to a different writer.” Worm turns.
Worm – Evocation of the Black Marsh Review
“Iron Bonehead doesn’t do nice. With more goats in their stable than a petting zoo, their outfits strive for all things nasty, brutish, and Satanic. What’s a poser to do when confronted with such trveness? Worm couldn’t care less. In their mind, it’s still 1994: if your metal doesn’t sound like it was recorded on tape strung through Satan’s butt crack, no dinner and 666 lashes for you, buster brown.” Butt crack blackness rides again.
