Happy #GlobalCloseYourRingsDay and thanks for the free pin, Apple 🏅

#CloseYourRings #Apple #PinBadge #Apr24

Verikalpa – Tuomio Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Tuomio is the fourth full-length LP from Finnish extreme folk metallers, Verikalpa. Back in ’20,1 I reviewed—and thoroughly enjoyed—Verikalpa’s sophomore platter Tuoppitannsi. The thing that stood out to me about the record, and its follow-up Tunturihauta, was how much it felt like the band was carrying forward the impeccable vibes from Finntroll’s earliest contributions, but without setting their stamp on it. Still, the writing popped and the sound satisfyingly scratched an extremely specific itch. As I wrote at the time, they bore “the accordion of tradition to the sauna of the metal gods, so that we might have something new to listen to while we drink.” But, let’s be honest, “competent but derivative” is not the praise anyone is looking for when they create music. And so one wonders, four years after my initial exposure, is that the only contribution Verikalpa had to make?

Like its predecessors, Tuomio has a familiar sound that’s easy to love. Verikalpa plays speedy, sometimes galloping or even blasty, melodeath with as much harmonic minor as the songwriters can pump into the riffs. The band, made up of two Jussis (guitars and keyboards), two Samis (guitars and bass), a Jari (drums), and a Jani (vocals) play tight, energetic metal that calls upon their Finnish brethren, but without the pretensions of a Wintersun or Turisas. Their compositions aren’t complex, they’re not borrowing sounds from Japanese instrumentation, and don’t require quantum computing to play on a computer. And their scope is not one with epic aspirations. Instead, Tuomio works almost exclusively in simple time but does so with loads of pathos, driven on by majestic and sticky melodies carried on guitar or keys reminiscent of Turisas’ debut album. This makes it easy to drop into comfortable grooves, with the snare on two and four and machine gun kicks whipping at the Jussis’ and Samis’ backs.

And firmly planted in that familiar Finnish sound, Tuomio delivers the bangers in spades. Verikalpa vacillates primarily between speedier, driven passages that will annihilate unsuspecting crowds live (“Arvon tuomari,” “Noijan sauna”), and the kind of mid-paced tracks (“Laulava vainaja,” “Hakkaa hakkaa,” or the bridge on “Sammalsynti”) that can so often get sleepy if not perfectly executed. But Tuomio finds Verikalpa increasingly mastering their craft, balancing these different speeds, with every riff hitting home—and a seemingly innate understanding of when to slow it down or speed it up to keep a listener interested. Every song on Tuomio features sharp hooks, interesting variations upon themes, and tight execution. One major difference from the previous albums is that Tuomio is mixed and mastered by Pasi Kauppinen, of Sonata Arctica. Pasi’s approach gives them exactly the kind of crisp, and balanced mix that the band needs. And while it could be criticized as dated, it clocks in at a surprising DR of 8 and it fits the music perfectly. Pasi’s touch does the job of getting out of the way of the songs to allow the composition to speak for itself.

And it’s the composition throughout Tuomio that makes it clear how Verikalpa has begun to differentiate itself. One of the band’s most defining tendencies is playing key melodies in unison. That is, the bass, keys, and guitars are all playing the same thing, which sometimes gives it a punky energy. While this could be boring, it has the counterintuitive effect of creating a melodic blunt-force trauma. As a lover of big, epic sounds, I tend to lean away from bands that work with punky energy or ‘simplistic’ writing. But Verikalpa understands that songwriting is a balancing act, making the band’s very specific and well-considered use of harmony extremely effective. After several listens, I began realizing that I was perking up at these perfect moments, like in “Tulimerten taa,” where the harmonies come in (YouTube link, plays 15ish second clip), or the pre-chorus in “Laulava vainaja” (1:13) where the guitars suddenly deviate out of unison into an abbreviated lead, which adds a tight flare. What feels unsubtle becomes the band’s best compositional trick. Less turns out to be more.2 This also gives the impression that Verikalpa has begun opening things up a bit more compositionally, experimenting with better orchestration and slightly carnivalesque sounds (“Maat hauraan hautaa,” the bridge in “Veritonttu”). It’s playful, but it’s worth taking 100% seriously.

Ultimately, Tuomio’s combination of a maturing band that’s developing its sound and a production that lets their excellent ideas and melodies shine creates what is easily one of the most enjoyable listening experiences I’ve had this year. Tuomio is an album without a bad song and that finds Verikalpa making major strides to come into its own. Even at 55 minutes long, I never think about the album’s length when I’m listening to it. It’s just fun hearing Verikalpa develop, and while their sound is still undeniably indebted to the Finnish scene from 20 years ago, Tuomio is helping them plant their flag. So, sure, Verikalpa continues to bear the accordion of tradition to the sauna of the metal gods. But in 2024, they no longer only do so as supplicants.

Rating: Very good (and getting better!)
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: V0 mp3
Label: Scarlet Records
Websites: verikalpaofficial.com | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 19th, 2024

#2024 #35 #Apr24 #Blog #FinnishMetal #FolkMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #ScarletRecords #SonataArctica #Tunturihauta #Tuomio #Tuoppitannsi #Turisas #Verikalpa #Wintersun

Black Tusk – The Way Forward Review

By Dear Hollow

Black Tusk is one of those bands that are eternally 3.0, and I’ve always been completely content with that. My first experience with the Savannah, Georgia veterans was 2011’s Set the Dial, a veritable riff-fest of sludge to counter the swampy slogs I had only been acquainted with (namely Thou and Eyehategod). In ways, the trio stood shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Mastodon and Baroness without the lofty ambition: you come for the sludge, you stay for the riffs. Or something. But that’s it, you bang your head to that filthy, slightly southern fried riffage, and you like it or you don’t. The trio is now a quartet and represents a new chapter of Black Tusk.

That doesn’t mean that Black Tusk is settling down. With new member Derek Lynch on bass and vocals, the trio simply adds more firepower to their arsenal. The Way Forward embodies a theme of change lyrically, and hints of melodic and rhythmic complexity are added. Black Tusk makes no argument for elevating itself past “Mastodon but less ambition and more riffs” but if you’re looking for thick-ass riffs flying around your head with punky simplicity and sludgy meatheadedness, look no further. The Way Forward is Black Tusk through and through, even if its main weapon of the riff can sputter periodically.

As you may have guessed, The Way Forward is Black Tusk’s version of “THA RIFF” but sludge style, and that has not changed since the act’s foundation. Tracks like “Out of Grasp,” “Lessons Through Deception,” and “Flee from Dawn” conjure the sludgy riffs of Mastodon’s Blood Mountain, punky speed colliding with feedback squeals and tough-guy vocals, which are given more variety with Lynch’s contributions: a totality of barks, shrieks, and growls far more forward than in previous incarnations. The three main highlights are “Harness (The Alchemist),” “Breath of Life,” and closer “The Way Forward,” which embrace chunky riffage to the umpteenth degree, while also enveloping it in a suffocating haze and melodic touches that add to colossal quality, enhanced by instrumental interlude “Ocean of Obsidian.” “Breath of Life” in particular flows extremely organically, its centerpiece status justified as a climactic spoke, while the emotive progressions of the title track end the album on a very sweet note.

While the riffs dominate the entirety of The Way Forward, a run in the back half falls tragically short because of its lack of variation. “Dance on Your Grave,” “Against the Undertow,” and “Lift Yourself” start deceptively well enough, sludge’s main attraction of thick riffs and feedback dominating in the ways you expect, but then nothing changes over the course of each respective three minutes, the same riff repeating ad nauseam until a bitterly frail conclusion. “Lift Yourself” in particular feels like the weakest whimper in Black Tusk’s catalog. Not that riff-centric shenanigans are meant to sear into the brain, but even good tracks like “Brushfire,” “Lessons Through Deception,” and “Out of Grasp” are hardly memorable, offering beatdowns but little else. Unfortunately, while Black Tusk does a good job ascending from the monotony of T.C.B.T., it does not justify its plight beyond its own discography like Set the Dial or Taste the Sin.

The Way Forward embraces more vocal variety, but little else feels like a progression – if anything, the highs feel higher and the lows feel lower. Black Tusk is still punky sludge with kickass riffs to boot, but with a three-song streak of gnarly mediocrity coursing through the back half, it’s hard to embrace The Way Forward in its entirety. If “Against the Undertow” and “Lift Yourself” are any indication, then we should be worried; however, if “Breath of Life” and “The Way Forward” are the trajectory, then we should celebrate. However, with more tracks falling into kickass territory like “Harness (The Alchemist)” and “Flee from Dawn,” we shouldn’t even think about Black Tusk’s future and focus on getting lost in the sauce and bashing our brains around with punky, riffy sludge.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: n/a | Format Reviewed: STREAM
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: blacktusk.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/blacktusk
Releases Worldwide: August 17th, 2018

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #Baroness #BlackTusk #Eyehategod #HardcorePunk #Mastodon #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMistRecords #SludgeMetal #TheWayForward #Thou

Glassing – From the Other Side of the Mirror Review

By Dear Hollow

No one does music quite like Austin’s Glassing. Nearly impossible to pigeonhole in its blend of jagged riffs and crystalline melodies, critics have conjured the likes of post-metal, post-black, post-rock, mathcore, shoegaze, sludge, noise rock, screamo, and post-hardcore to describe it – none ever quite sticking the landing. Comparisons to Amenra, Deafheaven, Holy Fawn, and Infant Island are rife – fair but incomplete. Ascending to the ether with a style formed on 2017’s Light and Death, honed in 2019’s Spotted Horse, and perfected with 2021’s Twin Dream, Glassing seems to level up with each release, its tonal calculations more fluid and organic while its gritted-teeth punishment never foregone. From the Other Side of the Mirror is another chapter and success for an act renowned for excellence.

The style that Glassing proffers is best exemplified in the dichotomy of two tracks separated by brief interlude, “Defacer” and “Nominal Will.” The former is absolutely vicious with thick, chunky blackened sludge riffs raining down with volcanic ferocity; the latter deals in a consistently sanguine and heart-wrenching melodic lead guitar approach that floats above the bass-heavy chugs, giving purpose to the pain. This dichotomy, perhaps embodying two sides of the mirror, courses through the album’s forty-two minutes with a tantalizing simplicity of devastating riffs and heart-wrenching melody. It may not top Twin Dream in its ambition but its more contemplative tones and devastatingly thick riffs collide for an absolute tour-de-force nonetheless.

Glassing’s sound nonetheless feels more streamlined despite this dichotomy. Compared to Twin Dream, where multiple styles, vocals, and movements collided, From the Other Side of the Mirror feels refreshingly straightforward. Tracks like “Anything You Want,” “Nominal Will,” and “Ritualist” fuse undercurrents of pulsing blackened sludge with soaring guitar leads and choral cleans, moving between segments with seamless ease. Elsewhere, the two ends of the spectrum are showcased neatly, as the gentle melodies of “Nothing Touches You” and interlude “The Kestrel Goes” are starkly vulnerable compared to the heaviness. On the other end, tracks “As My Heart Rots” and “Circle Down” take notes from “Defacer” in blistering heaviness, relying on blackened tremolo, sludge weight, and a dissonant mathcore quality laid atop a post-metal blueprint, absolutely leveling with the hugeness of their riffs. Dustin Coffman’s vocals return to the simplicity of the blackened snarl, adding a needed edge. You can’t accuse Glassing of going soft.

While ambition is in the eye of the beholder, there are some simple setbacks to From the Other Side of the Mirror. Glassing’s strongest asset is its ability to build tension between jaggedness and melody, and while “Ritualist” and “Defacer” bend hard into this tension, other tracks simply fall into one or another. “Nothing Touches You” pales in comparison to “Anything You Want,” and the stark palettes between “Defacer” and “Nominal Will” can be jarring. Likewise between “Circle Down” and “Wake” – in spite of an interlude between them. While interludes “Sallow” and “The Kestrel Goes” attempt to smoothen transitions between these soundscapes, they largely come across as unnecessary. Worse, closer “Wake” does not feel as climactic as it ought to be, feeling more like a weaker “Anything You Want” with no distinct resolution.

In reality, Glassing’s biggest issue is its sequencing, in that each track is accomplished with gusto and bulletproof performances across the board, but placement within the album feels a bit off. Twin Dream relegated these soundscapes to the first half or the second through a hardcore filter, but From the Other Side of the Mirror attempts the herculean feat of streamlining them with more contemplative grace, adding greater weight to the no-holds-barred punishment of “Defacer,” “As My Heart Rots,” and “Circle Down.” I wouldn’t consider From the Other Side of the Mirror a step-down, but a different beast entirely – from one of the most exciting metal bands today.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: glassing.bandcamp.com | glassingband.com | facebook.com/glassingband
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #35 #Amenra #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #BlackMetal #BlackenedSludgeMetal #Deafheaven #FromTheOtherSideOfTheMirror #Glassing #HolyFawn #InfantIsland #Mathcore #NoiseRock #PelagicRecords #PostRock #PostBlackMetal #PostHardcore #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #Screamo #Shoegaze #SludgeMetal

Big|Brave- A Chaos of Flowers Review

By Dear Hollow

In respect to last year’s excellent Nature Morte, A Chaos of Flowers feels like fallout. While tracks like “Carvers, Ferriers, and Knaves” and “The Fable of Trusting” offered tension and devastation in ways that set brute force at just another place at the crooked wooden table, Big|Brave offer an even more subdued album – a direct response to its predecessor, and an even more spiritual successor to their collaboration with The Body, Leaving None But Small Birds. Americana is a specter that haunts every movement of A Chaos of Flowers, leaving a trail of footprints through crunchy leaves as metamorphic rain falls upon tired Appalachia. In short, Big|Brave offers a place, humid and cold, rooted in founding members Robin Wattie and Matthieu Ball’s acoustic folk-oriented beginnings.

The Montreal trio has always offered what they coin “massive minimalism,” and A Chaos of Flowers represents its most minimalist offering. Big|Brave does away with earthshaking, mountainous compositions of drone riffs in favor of an evocative, simmering, and otherworldly experience. In ways that recall Portal’s dichotomy of Avow and Hagbulbia, A Chaos of Flower’s vibe is more about feeling than punishment, channeling the poetry of renowned thinkers and writers as well as original lyrics, portraying the struggle of life in Robin Wattie’s tormented wails and whispery croons. A retraction of its predecessor’s punishment, A Chaos of Flowers finds Big|Brave acknowledging its folk roots in a subdued noisy palette that is nonetheless meditative and populated by voices of whispering pines.

Big|Brave does not intend punishment. Each track features minimal percussion, driven by swaths of noise and gentle guitar. Original lyrics find themselves in only “Canon: In Canon” and “Quotidian: Solemnity,” the other tracks featuring poetry from Emily Dickinson, E. Pauline Johnson, Renee Vivien, and other female writers from traditionally marginalized communities. In the past, although Wattie’s vocals have always featured their own spotlight, listeners could simply focus on the mountainous riffs – A Chaos of Flowers is rawer, more subdued, and focused on storytelling through the lens of the marginalized. The emphasis on poetry and prose contrasts the trio’s more upfront lyrics that have dominated past albums, in that it confronts uncomfortable experiences and existential contemplation rather than explicit calls for change. Big|Brave attacks listeners with its words, not its riffs.

Bluesy folk and Americana dominate the chord progressions, while gentle guitar in “Moonset” and “Canon: In Canon” guide the proceedings. Beneath the crushing noise of “Not Speaking of the Ways” and “I Felt a Funeral” lies the remains of a southern rock song, lamented in the shades of the pines, while the spidery leads of “Chanson Pour Mon Ombre” and “Theft” lend themselves to the fingers of atmosphere atop drone’s calloused hands. Big|Brave excels in creating a place, piece by piece, with Wattie’s vocals the guide to surviving the Appalachian winter. A Chaos of Flowers feels like the light on the icy grass blades after the first hard frost of spring that was Nature Morte, chilling and more disconcerting than the knowledge of the cold. Distortion taints the light throughout, as “I Felt a Funeral” and “Theft” offer plaintive vulnerability twisted under hopeless lyrics.

Big|Brave submit an odd release with A Chaos of Flowers, as its existence relies on its predecessor – nuclear winter after the war of many casualties. As such, it does not do well to stand alone, and interlude “A Song for Marie, Part III” feels unnecessary while some tracks don’t feel cohesive with the whole. However, it’s composed intelligently, as the two original pieces are the closest to the trio’s avant-drone sound as we get, serving as respective climaxes to the meditation of the surrounding poetry. Somehow, like Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter’s stripped-down debut last year, Big|Brave’s vulnerability feels even more stark than its riff-dominated past. Its existence relies on another recording, so it likely won’t make many lists this year, but it serves as an intriguing companion piece to one of last year’s best offerings. A challenging book of poetry to proudly display on your shelves.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: n/a | Format Reviewed: STREAM
Label: Thrill Jockey Records
Websites: bigbrave.ca | facebook.com/bigbravemusic
Releases Worldwide: April 19th, 2024

#2024 #35 #AChaosOfFlowers #Americana #Apr24 #BigBrave #CanadianMetal #DroneMetal #Folk #GothicAmericana #Noise #Portal #ReverendKristinMichaelHayter #Review #Reviews #TheBody

Darkthrone – It Beckons Us All……. Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

As per usual with Darkthrone these days, a new record arrived without any notice and NO ONE got the promo until after its release. So, here I am trying to toss together a review at the last second for a band whose process is so annoying that I don’t even want to review them. But, I love Darkthrone. So I will ignore my annoyance and pen this fucking thing. Even after twenty full-length albums and nearly four decades in existence, Darkthrone can still surprise their fanbase with each new record—to the point that you don’t know what to expect. But, the last time I enjoyed a complete Darkthrone album was 2013’s The Underground Resistance and 2021’s Eternal Halls……. Keeping with the theme of the latter album, we have another record that uses unnecessary dots in its title. But, does It Beckons Us All……. have what it takes to keep these crusty old fuckers relevant after all these years?

Since the days when Fenriz started lending his voice to Darkthrone albums, things have undoubtedly become weird. But, the band’s commitment to an old-school sound that no longer relies on the yesteryears of Norwegian black metal glory has been enlightening. Chipping away at classic ’80s riffs from the likes of Hellhammer, Celtic Frost, and Sarcófago, Culto and Fenriz have been keeping old-man metal alive after pulling away from the first and second-wave scenes with Hate Them. Since then, they’ve been forging a path that has seen fans come and go, depending on which version of Darkthrone they prefer. But these two gents couldn’t care less. They could care so little that, as I type these words, I feel like I’m wasting my time. But, after listening to It Beckons Us All……., I wish they did care. Because this has to be one of the most disappointing things I’ve heard since Metallica’s 72 Seasons.

“Howling Primitive Colonies” kicks things off with some weird, psychedelic effects that remind me of that mapping bot from Prometheus. Then, it slides into a classic, mid-paced Darkthrone groove that transitions to some boring, slow sustains and perhaps one of Culto’s worst vocal performances. Hell, I wouldn’t even call them vocals. It’s more like raspy rambling than anything else. It picks up the pace at the midpoint, but the one-dimensional “vocals” remain. Thankfully, “Black Dawn Affiliation” arrives a couple of songs later to kick some major ass. This song might be one of the most badass songs to come from Culto’s fingers. For over six minutes, he takes a basic riff and continues to add layers upon layers, evolving it to a massive headbanging climax as distant clean vocals swirl around it.

The ten-minute closer, “The Lone Pines of the Lost Planet,” provides other interesting guitar moments. Specifically, the mid-section harmonizing work which also continues to evolve as it goes. It’s one of the more surprising pieces because it opens with reverberating clean guitars that feel like it’s about to morph into a Metallica ballad. It fails because it has so many worthless sections that drag it out unnecessarily. Plus, I swear to God, Culto says, “Sucking on hydrothermic chimneys.”1 But, at least it contributes something to the album. Unlike the absolutely worthless instrumental, “And in That Moment I Knew the Answer.” I could have spent those three minutes taking a shit instead of listening to this thing. “Eon 3” and “The Heavy Hand” also suffer in their own unique ways. While Culto refuses to sing on this album, Fenriz’s cleans on “Eon 3” are buried in the back and completely encapsulated in effects. And though “The Heavy Hand” has an engaging, haunting attitude, it spends four minutes going nowhere.

After reviewing Darkthrone albums for years, this is the first time I’ve been this disappointed. It Beckons Us All……. is the most uninspiring collection of work the band has released in some time. Outside of the top songs, the others feel thrown together and completely lifeless. And the vocals are either borderline talking or so distant that they’re barely backing vocals. There is some surprising guitar work in songs like “Black Dawn Affiliation” and “The Lone Pines of the Lost Planet,” but it’s not enough to carry the rest of the songs. It’s a shame because the album is so dynamic that if rats were running around the studio, you’d hear them. Though I’m one of the biggest fans of this band, I won’t be returning to this one.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Peaceville Records | Bandcamp
Websites: facebook.com/darkthroneofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#20 #2024 #Apr24 #BlackMetal #CelticFrost #Darkthrone #Hellhammer #ItBeckonsUsAll_ #Metallica #NorwegianMetal #PeacevilleRecords #Review #Reviews #Sarcófago

Full of Hell – Coagulated Bliss Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

If you’ve been following the modern grindcore scene in any fashion over the past fifteen years, then you’ve at least heard of Maryland’s high-output, low-trend grindmongers Full of Hell. Collaborating or splitting space with everyone from tough punks Code Orange1 to Japanese static spinner Merzbow to pneumatic pulse demons The Body, Full of Hell scrapes ideas from every corner in the extreme music space to fuel the iterative process of the twenty to thirty-minute burners that are their “full-length” releases. In the truest sense, this eclectic and thirsty act follows the crack of their own whip, but when it comes to the stage that bears only Full of Hell in title, the path steers a touch more straightforward, though not quite predictable. Nevertheless, with the dial cranked to grind and a color palette that screams anti-monochromatic, does Coagulated Bliss amass all the right parts?

In many ways Coagulated Bliss is the Full of Hell we’ve come to expect, its bleeding extremities of punch-and-cackle powerviolence (“Doors to Mental Agony”), playful industrial deathgrind (“Fractured Bonds to Mecca”), drag ’em bleeding sludge (“Bleeding Horizon”), and unshackled grindcore (“Vomiting Glass”) congealing into a boisterous sonic injection. However, much like higher-treble back half of 2021’s Garden of Burning Apparitions and the whole of 2022’s Aurora Leaking from an Open Wound continued, Full of Hell has adopted a stronger penchant for groove and noise rock-infused, treble-loaded licks. No, Full of Hell does not suddenly sound like Melvins or The Jesus Lizard, but this incorporation of twangy, tasty tunes does help them come across more like the barking, manic side of Today Is the Day on a mystery bag of pills with one labeled ‘grindcore’ (“Coagulated Bliss,” “Gelding of Man”).2 And though the average BPM may render a bit lower than the most aggressive Full of Hell releases, but that doesn’t stop them from sneaking in a Discordance Axis riff or six.

A shift like this requires smart songwriting and a production job highlighting the force of new convictions. Freed from the chains of Kurt Ballou’s (Converge) hammering soundboard touch, both the growling lows and warm, twisting highs find new space to hook with vicious intent (“Half Life of Changelings,” “Coagulated Bliss”), ironically in the manner similar to 00s Converge classics like Jane Doe or Axe to Fall. And though Dave Bland’s (Jarhead Fertilizer) kit has remained reliably savage throughout Full of Hell’s catalog, booming industrial reverb cranks the assault of the most martial tracks (“Doors to Mental Agony,” “Fractured Bonds to Mecca,” “Gelding of Men”), and the traditionally speedy numbers, murderous cymbal crashes lay littered with interjecting tom scatters and cymbal drives that drill the ears with loving precision. Whether Full of Hell is channeling Thou (“Bleeding Horizon”) or Terrorizer (“Gasping Dust”), the space and pace of each moment feels natural in its intensity, a stark contrast to the oppressive landscape in which this band has previously existed.

However more approachable it may seem, Coagulated Bliss isn’t a turn toward the accessible. If anything, this breezier distillation of Dylan Walker’s paint-stripping shrieks and gutter punk tongue-lashing puts his inimitable incantations3 at the forefront in a frighteningly catchy way. With rhythms to which you could reasonably twerk, 4 it’s easier than ever to pick up a lyrics sheet and at least try to croak (inadvisably) along to the hypnotic swing of “Doors to Mental Agony” or provide the demonic guttural accompaniment to “Schizoid Rupture.” At first, this did make Ross Dolan’s (Immolation) punchy verse contribution on “Gasping Dust” and Jacob Bannon’s (Converge) goblin garble on “Malformed Ligature” feel like slightly lesser cuts. But with time and repeat exposure, the resplendence that Full of Hell can find in this soured worldview pours through these late-album swings all the same.

As a long-time enjoyer of Full of Hell, I’ve always hoped to come across one of their records that could feel like an ‘any day’ kind of jam. These contemporary torchbearers have always seemed to scoff at the notion though, with each of their efforts brimming and bursting with a talent so raw and crushing that the zig-zag experience would come across as impressive rather than attachable. Expansive in soundscape, focused in its weird expression, and reliable in foothold to the grind, Coagulated Bliss feeds a shredded, rocking, great time effortlessly.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Closed Casket Activities | Bandcamp
Website: fullofhell.com | fullofhell.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fullofhell
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #40 #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #ClosedCasketActivities #CoagulatedBliss #Converge #Deathgrind #DiscordanceAxis #FullOfHell #Grind #Grindcore #IndustrialDeathgrind #JarheadFertilizer #Melvins #NoiseRock #Review #Reviews #Sludge #Terrorizer #TheBody #TheJesusLizard #TheMelvins #Thou #TodayIsTheDay #Turian

ACOD – Versets noirs Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

How I’ve never known about France’s ACOD is beyond me, and I heartily apologize to them because I’ve been having a hella good time with many of their releases. Beginning their career as a black/thrash outfit with metalcore tendencies, they began to explore Mephorash-meets-Septicflesh territories around the time of their 2018 release, The Divine Triumph. While there are thrashy moments, the songwriting is now predominantly massive string atmospheres, marching drumbeats, cranked-up bass work, and riff after motherfucking riff. Each song is a rollercoaster ride, continuously rising and falling throughout, leaving you wondering which pain level you’ll hit next. As of 2002’s mighty Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond, the band has been led by two founding members Fred and Jérome—the first lending his voice to these opuses and the second doing… well, everything else. But does Versets noirs have what it takes to widen the expanse left behind by its predecessor?

Versets noirs continues where Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond left off. But, its structure and delivery are very different from anything they’ve done before. Typical releases are in the forty to fifty-minute range with nine to thirteen songs each. Instead, Versets noirs consists of five (I repeat, five songs) in forty-two minutes, with a heavy cover of Samael’s classic “Black Trip” closing it out. But, it’s not like a typical bonus cover inclusion as it fits the album well, and closes it out perfectly. Aside from that, they also made a bold move by beginning the record with a twenty-plus-minute opening track. Freddy Boy also digs deeper into his vocal repertoire to add more diversity than the previous album, without going into the weirdness of their older material. All this combined makes Versets noirs probably the most unique release in ACOD’s fifteen-year career.

“Habentis Maleficia” begins with some slow, growing dissonance that settles into a smooth groove when the vocals surface. It’s a gigantic piece that includes rasps, French spoken-word segments, and booming cleans on the back end. Its foundation revolves around constant builds, falls, and rebuilds—morphing from one emotion to another. At one point, we are charging through Gorgorothian melodies and concrete-splitting black metal assaults. And, the next, we are soothed with calming piano work and string atmospheres. There are moments of impressive dual guitar work where, when played on headphones, each ear is combated by a different lead. And, sometimes, the bass rises above the foam to take charge in popping, rumbling beauty. On the back half, you’ll even find death assaults with vocals pulled deep from the diaphragm, and even a short passage where the band ventures into Southern, Pantera-esque territories. It’s a fucking wild ride but when its melodic climb to the final summit comes, it’s well worth the wait.

“The Son of a God (The Heir of Divine Blood)” is probably my favorite, kicking hard with a killer riff and guitar tone that reminds me of earlier Old Man’s Child. When it settles into its groove, the vocals match its step nicely to deliver a headbangable experience. But for all its aggressiveness, the song ventures into melodic atmospheres, alternating moods from wanting to rip one’s face off to wanting to cry. When the bass takes the reigns, we soar to new heights. During these moments, the atmosphere reaches the clouds, intermingling rasps with big, booming cleans as the piano surfaces and engulfs the entire thing in hopeless melodies. But, “May This World Burn” has to be the most unique piece on the album. It takes all the elements of the previous tracks and adds even more. Misleading you with some soft strings in the intro, it transitions to the most badass riff on the record. Between the flailing guitars and hard-hitting drums, this thing is ferocious. Then, it gets really interesting as the dual guitar work passes from Mors Principium Est influences to old-school Arsis death/thrash territories. But, after pulverizing you for seven-plus minutes, it concludes in the same beautiful fashion as it began.

As a whole, I prefer Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond to Versets noirs. But that doesn’t mean this new record is any less engaging than its predecessor. The fact that it continues where the previous one left off is exactly what I wanted from ACOD. It’s a forward movement on a sound and songwriting style that fits the band far more than the black/thrash days of Point Zero and First Earth Poison. With a rich master, every instrument finds its place in every moment of every song. The massive amount of riffs is shocking, the performances are tight as Hell, and the aforementioned vocal diversity lends well to the album’s overall theme. Perhaps they could have concluded the record with an original track, but the Samael cover does add texture to the record. If you like big, black metal atmospheres and wild, cross-genre influences, this album is for you.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Hammerheart Records
Websites: acod.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/acodband
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #35 #ACOD #Apr24 #Arsis #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #FrenchMetal #Gorgoroth #HammerheartRecords #Mephorash #MorsPrincipiumEst #OldManSChild #Pantera #Review #Reviews #Samael #SepticFlesh #VersetsNoirs

Couch Slut – You Could Do It Tonight Review

By Dear Hollow

Couch Slut does not concern itself with the prettier things in life. While the noise rock tag may be a dead giveaway, the unconvinced need only to look at the cover of the Brooklyn five-piece’s 2014 debut My Life as a Woman (not at work) to understand. The monotone theme is a spirit likewise captured in fourth full-length You Could Do It Tonight, displaying a humanity succumbing to vice, filth, and weed – as the style’s stalwarts in Cherubs, Oxbow and Brainbombs have long done. But there’s something distinctly unhinged about Couch Slut, whether it be the jerky hardcore rhythms, dissonant squeals, and deceptively placid passages of simmering menace, the blasts of straight-up noise that feels as furious as its content, or frontwoman Megan Osztrosits’ manic shrieks, banshee howls, and ominous mutterings. Like its predecessors, You Could Do It Tonight dives headlong into darker things through the lens of urban alienation.

Unlike its predecessors, however, You Could Do It Tonight flies off the rails at nearly every turn. Compromising solidarity through its thirty-eight-minute runtime through a variety of vicious tricks, no two tracks retaining the same technique, Couch Slut dives into surreal storytelling dedicated to self-harm and suicide. Using a thick haze of noise, combined with skronky guitar work and dark bass and helmed by the manically captivating spoken stories and Osztrosits’ manic shrieks, You Could Do It Tonight is an otherworldly and absolutely menacing trip to drug-fueled insanity.

The two faces of You Could Do It Tonight, in spite of different stylistic decisions throughout, can be pictured as simmering and unhinged. “Couch Slut Lewis,” “Laughing and Crying,” and “Wilkinson’s Sword” plod carefully and deliberately with an Oxbow-esque lounging pace through a noisy backdrop with memorable guitar licks throughout erupting into dissonant squawks, while Osztrosits’ shrieks describe rape and self-harm with raw and unflinching detail. The heart on their sleeves were traded for weed on 4/20, so any compassion is left in a haze of shock and smoke. Explosions of noise envelope tracks like “Ode to Jimbo” and “Energy Crystals for Healing” in a wave somehow larger than the already mammoth riffs dominating, while devastating roars of guests Zach Ezrin of Imperial Triumphant and Doug Moore of Pyrrhon add a distinct edge to “Couch Slut Lewis” and “Downhill Racer.” Like any good noise rock, there is a constant curtain of sound draped across Couch Slut’s sound, weaponized to a vicious and unhinged degree.

While the album at large maintains that trademark insanity, there are three instances in particular that challenge the listener. “Presidential Welcome” is a grimy jazz interlude straight outta Vile Luxury, starkly decadent after the climactic and filthy predecessor. This predecessor, “The Donkey,” features Osztrosits’ spoken word with dissonant squawks and a tapestry of feedback, lyrics describing a particular nightmare in which a couple make a stop-motion horror film, and the guy nearly saws off his arm to get enough blood for their film – the antics are described with unnerving conversational casualness. Meanwhile, closer “The Weaversville School for Boys” utilizes spoken word atop pulsing beats and warbling squeals, describing an urban legend of three boys massacring the entire population of their school and vanishing, as our drugged narrator stumbles upon them laughing at the sky. It’s all unnerving.

In its themes and mood, You Could Do it Tonight can summed up by the lyrics in “Downhill Racer:” “My walls build moisture, enough to drown. I watch the water where he went down. My leg’s infected from all these scratches.” Couch Slut has no clear motive aside from absolute grime and maximum discomfort. While horror and mutilation are common themes throughout metal- and noise rock-adjacent lyrics, there’s an obscene absurdity that collides with jarring normality through these stories: as if rape, self-harm, and murder were all just everyday facets of urban life. You can trust no one. Interpreting Couch Slut and You Could Do It Tonight is a complex feat – it’s not an easy album, hardly an enjoyable one. But it is an impressively uncomfortable drug-induced listen full of captivating storytelling through effective spoken word and a vocal performance from hell, stinging instrumentals, and oily grime – like all good noise rock steeped in misery and sarcasm.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 41 Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Brutal Panda Records
Websites: couchslut.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/couchslut | instagram.com/couch.slut
Releases Worldwide: April 19th, 2024

#2024 #35 #AmericanMetal #Apr24 #Brainbombs #BrutalPandaRecords #Cherubs #CouchSlut #ImperialTriumphant #NoiseMetal #NoiseRock #Oxbow #Pyrrhon #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #YouCouldDoItTonight

Baron – Beneath the Blazing Abyss Review

By El Cuervo

Little explanation is required for why I chose Beneath the Blazing Abyss for review. From artwork and title alone I was promised a fiery, hellish heavy metal experience, while Baron’s one sheet informed me this would be of the doom/death variety. I even initially thought that the art depicted an interpretation of the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. However, closer inspection reveals a decapitated head offered to demonic spirits; altogether too X-rated for the famously conservative Christian Tolkien. While these Finns have released a smattering of EPs and demos previously, this album offers their debut full-length. What type of evil resides within?

Burly riffs. A stomping, mean attitude. Brutish, block-headed heaviness. These are the core qualities you’ll experience on Blazing Abyss. Your mileage with it will largely depend on your tolerance for them. Baron fall at the death metal end of the doom/death spectrum, splitting their time between a mid-pace that prioritizes fat, groovy leads, and sharper, faster passages. The former gives you something to mosh to, and the latter progresses the songs by acting as transitions between moshing parts. The vocals likewise flit between guttural roars and higher shrieks to fit the underlying guitars. But most exciting is the commanding presence of the drums. I know it’s their purpose to dictate the music’s mood and tempo but I’m more tied to these than anything else across Blazing Abyss. The quick blasts, the pummelling stomps and the entertaining rolls; each underpin some of my favorite moments on the record.

Following these descriptions, it won’t come as a surprise that a lot of the material here almost necessitates that you switch off your brain. The music is better that way. I’m bruised and battered by, but not necessarily invested in, the likes of “Infernal Atonement,” “Incinerated Evil” and “Hands of Sin…” They’re heavy as fuck, and feature one or two dominant leads, but only have a superficial impact. When Baron stretch themselves with more demanding songwriting they become far more involving. “Bound to the Funeral Pyres” is the lengthy highlight, methodically building with a slower, grander, choral-backed arrangement. It begins less heavily but consequently feels even bigger when the blackened maelstrom finally arrives. It offers an interesting juxtaposition of something more controlled against something less, from elaborate to maniacal. By the time the track has returned to its quiet introduction at its conclusion, I’m left far more satisfied than by any other. It features proper development, progressing through mini-movements, into something that feels more deliberate and coherent.

Blazing Abyss is heavy as fuck. It uses fat tones and tons of distortion to construct its impressive wall of noise. But this is a brick wall of noise. Each instrument is prominent and thick and so the album overall loses the dynamism I typically enjoy, both in the music and mastering. Baron are surprisingly articulate and atmospheric during their acoustic and/or synthy softer passages on “At the Dawn of Damnation,” “Bound to the Funeral Pyres” and “… Swallowed by Fires Beneath.” But the loudness is shockingly noticeable in these quieter moments. This lack of dynamism is a big part of why much of the music here blurs. While these three tracks benefit from tonal changes (namely heavy to light) alongside the pace changes (namely death metal to doom metal), the other tracks can’t proclaim such variety and progression. So while the songs are generally fun enough, they aren’t always distinguishable.

Blazing Abyss is thicker than tar and heavier than iron. What Baron aims for initially seems straightforward. But I’m ultimately left with paradoxes. How can some of the material here be so immediate and exigent, yet some so indistinct and forgettable? How can some be so super-charged, yet some so flat? How can some leave me nonplussed at my desk, yet some energize me to mosh in a live setting? Blazing Abyss has its qualities but is ultimately the archetypal mixed album.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity
Website: bandcamp.baron.com
Releases worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#25 #2024 #Apr24 #Baron #BeneathTheBlazingAbyss #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #FinnishMetal #Review #Reviews #TranscendingObscurityRecords