Contrite Metal Guy: It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Wrongness, Volume the Second

By Cherd

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. Cascading promos, unreasonable deadlines, draconian editors, and the unwashed metal mobs – it makes for a swirling maelstrom of music and madness. In all that tumult, errors are bound to happen and sometimes our initial impression of an album may not be completely accurate. With time and distance comes wisdom, and so we’ve decided to pull back the confessional curtain and reveal our biggest blunders, missteps, oversights and ratings face-plants. Consider this our sincere AMGea culpa. Redemption is retroactive, forgiveness is mandatory.

As those of us who follow the Gregorian calendar and partake in Judeo/Christian cultural traditions prepare to face the final bosses of the holiday season, we experience a wide range of feelings. Anticipation, at the prospect of gorging on holiday treats as we shuffle from one party to another thrown by family and friends. Nostalgia, of course, as we uphold our traditions and reflect on the celebrations of yesteryear. And, for those who write music reviews for a non-living, contrition. Intense embarrassment and remorse as we prepare for Listurnalia, revisiting records we thought we had judicated accurately only to discover the depth of our wrongheadedness. Sometimes our self-reproach has nothing to do with impending lists. Sometimes, shortly after writing a review, an ember of doubt will ignite, smoldering just under our calm exteriors, growing until we want to shriek “Dissemble no more! I admit the deed! — tear up the planks! — here, here! — it is the beating of his hideous heart!” It’s been over three years since the last time we unloaded our disgrace onto you, the unsuspecting reader, so expect this to be a long self-flagellation session.

– Cherd

Carcharodon

Verses in contrition

Earlier this year, I described Hulder’s Verses in Oath as spellbinding, going on to ward it a lofty 4.5. I’ve taken a fair amount of stick for that in the months since, both in the comments and round the staffroom feeding trough. And while that’s fine—you’ve all been wrong before and I have absolutely no doubt you’ll all be wrong again—it’s only fair that such consistent criticism should cause me to reflect a little. And reflect I have. Now, it’s true that, as I said in my review, Verses in Oath is dark and vicious, but also haunting and ethereal. But it’s also true that, although well executed, it lacks true originality and I got carried away. It happens. I loved all the constituent elements of the record and I still think that they are woven together with skill and good songcraft. However, it’s not an album I’ve returned to as much as I thought I would and (spoilers!) it’s not going to make my year end list. Which makes it rather hard to defend the 4.5 any longer. So I won’t. It’s a very good album but no more than that.

Original score: 4.5
Adjusted score: 3.5

We came here to apologize

Minnesota’s Ashbringer has always been a band of shades, shifting between atmo-black, shoegaze, post-metal, and more. On last year’s We Came Here to Grieve, they added heavily fuzzed blues melodies and languid Incubus-esque post-rock, which I lapped up. Looking, and of course listening, back, there’s still a lot to like about the album but—and it’s a big but—I wince at those clean vocals. I suggested in my review that, while the cleans were not great, there was a sort of vulnerable authenticity to Nick Stanger’s voice that meant he just about got away with it. I can only think I was in a very vulnerable place at the time because he absolutely does not get away with it, nor should he be allowed to. Much as I enjoy Stanger’s harsh post-hardcore vox, his cleans are outright bad in places, which should have placed a very hard ceiling on the score that the album could achieve. Somehow, We Came Here to Grieve shattered that ceiling. It must now be repaired.

Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.0

Glare of the Noise

To more recent errors: in September, I did an injustice to Glare of the Sun’s TAL. I’m ashamed to say it but I went into that review looking for flaws—and I did find a couple—because I’d already done what you would all see next: Kanonenfieber. I didn’t lightly award that 5.0 and I stand by it but I was painfully conscious of it sitting there, on the assembly line and that affected my assessment of Glare of the Sun. While I think TAL could, and probably should, have been shorter and that there were a couple of less impactful songs (“Leaving Towards Spring,” for example), there are no real missteps here and it’s a great album. I stand by the words in my review but not the score, which should have been a 4.0.

Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: 4.0

Noisy remorse

I can keep this brief because I’ve already publicly admitted to underscoring Leiþa’s Reue. I gave it a 3.5 but knew at the time that it deserved a 4.0, something duly confirmed by AMG Himself, when he awarded it Record o’ the Month for January 2023, hinting that he might even have supported a 4.5. I think that might be going a touch far but, when I look back at my review, it reads like a 4.0 and it should’ve been a 4.0. The only reason it wasn’t, was that Noise (of Kanonenfieber, Leiþa and Non Est Deus) just makes too much damned good black metal, much of which I’d already gushed about. Ironically, given it was also a Noise project that led to me shortchanging Glare of the Sun, here his excellence also caused me to underrate his own album. Fool.

Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: 4.0

Dear Hollow

Iconic in a different universe

Rarely do I bestow 4.0s out of spite, but that’s exactly what happened with Fractal Generator. While I have liked their follow-up Convergence much more for its punishingly dense palette, I simply could not find any distinct fault with Macrocosmos. In hindsight, the album’s inhuman technicality and dissonance doesn’t play nice with the organicity and warmth the production offers, but more glaringly, I never returned to the album. Sure, some tracks really stand out and rip a hole in the space-time continuum (“Aeon,” “Chaosphere,” “Shadows of Infinity”), but for all its experimentalism and alien dissonance paired with deathgrind, Fractal Generator’s debut was simply unmemorable. Deathgrind bruisers like Knoll and Vermin Womb simply do it better, as the Italians never quite cut loose in the same way deathgrind ought to. What’s left is largely a pale imitation of Misery Index with an added shot of Portal’s IONian dissonance. It’s still good and improved with Convergence, but it is not the cosmos wrecker I thought it was.

Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 2.5

Cold ‘n’ what?

I have a bad habit of pretense, and Calligram’s The Eye is the First Circle was one hell of a pretense. Bestowing the same honor to Position | Momentum seemed like an open-and-shut case, but like Fractal Generator, I never returned to it and it never made any appearances on any year-end lists. It boasts more icy punk-infused black metal that would be sure to get the, like, four fans of Darkthrone’s Circle the Wagons or the underground cult of the gone-but-unforgotten Young and In the Way going, but it more exemplified the way-too-safe crash back to earth after The Eye. The experimental focus is still there with melancholic jazz (“Ostranenie”) and post-rock crescendos (“Seminari Dieci”), and the blackened punk is still a barnstormer (“Sul Dolore,” “Tebe”), but the absence of the two-ton sludge that weighted The Eye is felt – as if Calligram got blown away in a blizzard. In many ways, Position | Momentum is the Italian act’s more kvlt offering, but it alienates its widespread appeal with its now-limited audience. Great for some, less for others.

Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.0

TAKE ME TO FUCKIN’ CHURCH

Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter’s past in Lingua Ignota is certainly noteworthy, but when she dispels all the bells and whistles, we’re left with the horror of SAVED! It’s stripped to the bone, deceptively straightforward, with only some experimental tricks to make the subtle shift from Jesus lover to Jesus hater. Likely the most returned-to album I’ve ever reviewed,1 vicious and jaded sardonicism (“All My Friends Are Going to Hell”), hymns crashing into uncanny valley (“There is Power in the Blood,” “Nothing But the Blood”), and ominous dirges (“Idumea,” “The Poor Wayfaring Stranger”) all collide in a subtle yet earth-shaking affair that I have yet to shake. This is not even mentioning some of the most punishing sounds to shake Appalachia with Pentecostal and blasphemous fury: truly, the dissonant swell of “I Will Be With You Always” and Hayter’s tortured screaming and glossolalia in “How Can I Keep From Singing” have never left me. While the sentiment of a 3.5 is certainly merited in its divisive approach, the impact of SAVED! cannot be understated.

Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: 4.5

Thus Spoke

Meditations on contrition

In my first year as a newly promoted writer, I let the chill vibes of a summer holiday get to my head with Bong-Ra’s Meditations. It’s a good album, that much is still true. It is, as I pointed out at the time, immersive and engaging despite being totally instrumental. It’s also undeniably unique thanks to Bong-Ra’s choice to combine saxophone and oud with piano and guitar, and the striking way that volume is used to build tension. I do think I over-emphasized this novelty and strength, but it’s there regardless. Have I revisited it since 2022? The answer is no, and it is mainly for this reason that I concede I overrated it.

Original score: Excellent
Adjusted score: Very Good

Between the scores of right and wrong

I think I must have been in an exceptionally bad mood the week I wrote my review of Between the Worlds of Life and Death. Yes, Vale of Pnath disappointed a little with a turn in the direction of deathcore, but the result is hardly itself disappointing. My first inkling I’d done Between the Worlds of Life and Death a disservice was when I realized I’d been listening to it in the gym an awful lot, several months after giving my official score. I gestured towards anticlimactic song structures and distracting theatricality, and while I still think Vale of Pnath could have refined their templates, these compositions have stood the test of time, and of leg day. It may take them one more record to solidify their new sound, but this was a cracking record I was evidently in the wrong mindset to appreciate when it first landed in my hands.

Original score: Good
Adjusted score: Very Good

Cutting the throat of an incorrect score

When my review of Cutting the Throat of God went live, I noticed several questions in the comments to the effect of “where’d the ‘Iconic’ get lost?” Well, here I am, barely six months later, to set things right. After spending the best part of that time listening and relistening daily; after seeing the band live this October and falling in love all over again; after running through the band’s back catalogue and confirming that I do indeed like this one best, I can no longer deny what I knew from the start. Call me over-eager, fawning, blinded by infatuation. I don’t care. Ulcerate are the undisputed masters of their craft and this is an album I’ll be listening to for the next ten years at least. My only regret is not doing this the first time around.

Original score: Excellent
Adjusted score: Iconic

Sparagmos (of my original rating)

In line with my habit of taking the least linear route possible into a subgenre, I became enamored with what I now know to be basically ‘diSEMBOWELMENT-core’ before ever listening to diSEMBOWELMENT themself. Think Worm, Tomb Mold, and the current subject, Spectral Voice. Without the obvious reference point, the undeniably crushing, cavernous might of Sparagmos stunned me perhaps more than it had any right to. Make no mistake, Sparagmos remains a behemoth of intensely frightening doom death, one that’s fully capable of dragging me into its abyssal depths. And its ability to immerse in spite of its length and creeping pace still impresses me. But now that the ritual haze has lifted a little, I can recognize that it’s not quite the pinnacle of perfection I was fooled into believing it was.

Original score: Excellent
Adjusted score: Great

Score of unreason

I’m not sure exactly what held me back from awarding a higher score to Age of Unreason, especially considering that a quick look at my average would show I’m not usually one for restraint. Whatever the reason, I deemed ColdCell to have taken a slight step down from their previous effort, The Greater Evil, but with the benefit of hindsight, I see I had this entirely the wrong way around. Age of Unreason is emotionally poignant and refreshingly vulnerable, and it’s delivered in a unique, compelling black metal package. Dark and somewhat mysterious, like all of ColdCell’s output, it has the benefit of being much sharper, and more skilfully edited, which makes it endlessly relistenable. I recognize now that this is, in fact, ColdCell’s best album.

Original score: Very Good
Adjusted score: Great

Dolphin Revisioner

Premature coagulation

It’s not that Coagulated Bliss doesn’t contain any great music. Between the heavier bright and fiery noise rock cuts (“Half Life Changelings”), martial stomps (“Doors to Mental Agony”), and Discordance Axis powergrind (“Vomiting Glass”) it represents among the best stretches of Full of Hell offerings. Coagulated Bliss also boasts a fantastic soundstage. As a rhythmically interesting band with more to say than simple blast beats and hammer shows, Full of Hell brings it with the powerviolence escalations (“Transmuting Chemical Burns”) and sliding grooves (“Schizoid Rapture”) in a clear and punchy manner for which I’d always hoped. But as time marched on and I continued to revel in these many reasons to celebrate Full of Hell, I came too to find a distaste for the most pandering and unnecessary tracks—cameo performances that rob the luster of Full of Hell’s raw energy. Does it feel silly to say that a twenty-five-minute album runs almost five minutes too long? No, not at all when that five minutes of completely avoidable downtime kills a historic run. As such, I’m left to remember Coagulated Bliss more for its near greatness, its finish line stumble— yet, I long for where this puts Full of Hell next.

Original score
: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.5

Third eye open

Emergent is unbelievably dense for an album that lets shrill, alien leads dance about the spaciousness of a booming, metallic floor—a bass-rich, industrial pulse that has allowed Autarkh’s sophomore strike to rattle with an upward energy. An album doesn’t always lend itself well to the constraint of a review cycle, especially when its biggest boom rests in amplification, loudness, and feeling. While I try to cycle everything I review through a number of listening platforms, a extra abandon on extended commutes allows cranked tones to work their wonders. And in Emergent’s meticulous design I’ve continued to discover swirling and diving synth chirps, buzzing and scuzzing low-end traps, all of which frame their eerie and jazzy progressive howl with unshakable, unrelenting rhythms. Intention lives in every panning channel hum, emotion lives in every broken-voiced, discordant cry, and exploration lives both in the bulge of every swell and spread of every break. Though Emergent received two scores in its initial stand, it would seem that neither I nor Kenfren had the proper perspective to grant Autarkh the right score. But time settles all debts, and with nothing in the metalverse sounding quite like Autarkh, Emergent holds an esteemed and flourishing spot in my rotation.

Original score
: Very Good.
Adjusted score: Great!

Mystikus Hugebeard

Traverse the regret

I have made no secret of my contrition over Sgaile’s Traverse the Bealach (my regret was even deep enough to mention it on the 15 year anniversary piece). Both commenters and staff alike recognized my underrating, but the miserable truth is I knew it before even they did. In my review, I allowed every perceived flaw to become a glaring boil out of some misguided belief that I had to be hypercritical of something I loved lest I not be taken seriously as a Super Important Music Reviewer. I do think Traverse the Bealach’s second half isn’t quite as strong as the first half, but it’s nowhere near as damaging as I’d initially tried to convince myself. Sgaile’s Traverse the Bealach is never anything less than a delightful listen with some of the most cohesive, satisfying songwriting from any band I’ve heard, and is just as enjoyable a year later as it was on release. Tune in to next year’s Contrite Metal Guy when I adjust the score even higher, but for now just call me Mystikus Absolvedbeard.

Original Score: 3.5
Adjusted Score: 4.0

#2024 #AgeOfUnreason #Ashbringer #Autarkh #BetweenTheWorldsOfLifeAndDeath #BongRa #Calligram #CoagulatedBliss #ColdCell #ContriteMetalGuy #Convergence #CuttingTheThroatOfGod #Emergent #FractalGenerator #FullOfHell #GlareOfTheSun #Hulder #Leitha #Meditations #Reue #ReverendKristinMichaelHayter #Saved_ #Sgaile #TAL #TheEyeIsTheFirstCircle #TraverseTheBealach #Ulcerate #ValeOfPnath #VersesInOath #WeCameHereToGrieve

Contrite Metal Guy: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Wrongness, Volume the Second | Angry Metal Guy

Here be Volume II of our sweeping apologies for poor scoremanship. We suck, we sorry.

Angry Metal Guy

Contrite Metal Guy: It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Wrongness, Volume the First

By Cherd

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. Cascading promos, unreasonable deadlines, draconian editors, and the unwashed metal mobs – it makes for a swirling maelstrom of music and madness. In all that tumult, errors are bound to happen and sometimes our initial impression of an album may not be completely accurate. With time and distance comes wisdom, and so we’ve decided to pull back the confessional curtain and reveal our biggest blunders, missteps, oversights and ratings face-plants. Consider this our sincere AMGea culpa. Redemption is retroactive, forgiveness is mandatory.

As those of us who follow the Gregorian calendar and partake in Judeo/Christian cultural traditions prepare to face the final bosses of the holiday season, we experience a wide range of feelings. Anticipation, at the prospect of gorging on holiday treats as we shuffle from one party to another thrown by family and friends. Nostalgia, of course, as we uphold our traditions and reflect on the celebrations of yesteryear. And, for those who write music reviews for a non-living, contrition. Intense embarrassment and remorse as we prepare for Listurnalia, revisiting records we thought we had adjudicated accurately only to discover the depth of our wrongheadedness. Sometimes our self-reproach has nothing to do with impending lists. Sometimes, shortly after writing a review, an ember of doubt will ignite, smoldering just under our calm exteriors, growing until we want to shriek “Dissemble no more! I admit the deed! — tear up the planks! — here, here! — it is the beating of his hideous heart!” It’s been over three years since the last time we unloaded our disgrace onto you, the unsuspecting reader, so expect this to be a long self-flagellation session.

– Cherd

Sentynel

Powerhouse of contrition

Mitochondrial Sun is the big one for me. I had no idea what I was getting into when I picked up a weird side project from the Dark Tranquillity guitarist. Frankly, I underrated it at the time and it’s grown on me since. Yes, yes, the more ambient ten minutes between “Celestial Animal” and “The Great Filter” are not quite as interesting as the rest of the record. But this is a record to be experienced as a whole, and it’s rarely actually bothered me that the pacing could theoretically have been a little different. “Not quite as interesting” as something that’s absolutely stellar is still great. An incredible record, it draws on a lot of things I love while sounding little like any of them. Absolutely one of my favorites of this decade so far.

Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: Excellent

Transient error

I haven’t really listened to Transitus since 2020, which is not a great vote of confidence in the 3.5 I originally gave it. I was vaguely dreading exactly how contrite I was going to have to be here. In my head this had turned into me getting overly excited about reviewing Ayreon and awarding a high score to an album with no redeeming features, but listening to it again it’s not actually that bad. Pretty much everything I said in my original review was right, and I stand by what I said about the actual music being very good. It’s just that without the review forcing me to listen to it, the flaws have been more off-putting than I thought they would be. The narration is too heavy-handed. The tonal inconsistences are too jarring. And, as is inevitable for an Ayreon record, it’s too long. The result is that it’s a drag to get through, for all that it’s musically a lot of fun.

Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: Mixed

Inheritance taxed

Less egregious an error than the other two here, but an error nonetheless. I listen to Inheritance all the time. It is one of the prettiest and most quietly but insistently moving records I own. The other day their Bandcamp page linked a live recording of it (and a couple of other songs) and I just sat there transfixed for the whole thing. I knew when I reviewed it that it was something special, I just wasn’t quite brave enough to give what would have been my first 4.5 at this metal blog to a chamber folk record. Subsequently, Musk Ox have played shows the week after I left Canada on more than one occasion and I’m starting to suspect they’re deliberately avoiding me. I’m sorry! It was excellent all along!

Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: Excellent

GardensTale

Glutton for punishment

I’ve announced my first downgrade last year, but now I finally got my chance to make it official. Foetal Juice is a bunch of Brighton boys who pump out some really solid death metal in the vein of Cannibal Corpse and peers. On my first brush with the juicy ones, I got a little carried away by their enthusiasm and uncommonly good production. While Gluttony is definitely a cut above the average in an overcrowded field, I never find myself grasping for it anymore. It’s simply not quite memorable enough for that. On replay, it’s easy to see why it got me as excited as it did; it sounds thick, heavy and gnarly, and the riffs kick all sorts of ass. Its longevity just hasn’t been anywhere befitting a 4.0, and so I will take it down a notch. Now officially.

Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.5

In this moment we are sorry

Most of the time, the commenters are idiots who don’t know what they’re talking about, unless they’re agreeing with me. In the case of Vuur, though, they had a point. In a classic case of wanting to like it more than I did, my tongue-bath of Anneke van Giersbergen’s Devin-influenced prog project had an unusual number of ‘this bit is not that great, but…’ disclaimers for a 4.0. While a select few loved In This Moment We Are Free – Cities as well, a lot of comments complained of a sterile production and unengaging songwriting. I may not agree with the severity of these complaints even now, but in essence, they are definitely valid, and I dismissed them far too easily. Anneke alone cannot compensate for these flaws to the tune of the score received, and listening back to the album I find myself enjoying it mildly, not greatly.

Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.0

Kenstrosity

Underrated Again!

Just a little over a year after I originally reviewed Chicago progressive tech-death cryptid Warforged’s incredible I: Voice, I submitted a Contrite blurb exposing my mistake of severely underrating its genius. It seems that very few others in the AMG community agreed wholeheartedly with me, save for a few unlikely supporters. Nonetheless, over the course of that year and change, I: Voice continued to grow, continually offering me new details to discover and challenging my perspective of what immersive songwriting and compelling storytelling mean in this sphere.

It’s been over four long years since that original contrite piece was published, and in that time Warforged’s immense debut only penetrated deeper into my psyche, blooming into a venerable monstrosity that has no equal. In every corner of the tech-death, progressive death, and even dissonant death metal halls, there lurks no other creature of the same grotesque form or fearsome presence as I: Voice. Its unique and inimitable character straddles the fence between tension and catharsis with such acrobatic finesse that I find myself in awe of its terrifying shape, reveling in the deeply disturbing environs it conjures and dreading the inevitable horror of its conclusion. For once it’s over, I am compelled by an instinctual, morbid obsession to venture back into this densely forested lair where those monsters that Warforged dared summon unto this mortal coil dwell. No other album before it, and no other album since ever drove me to this special kind of madness. If that doesn’t make I: Voice worthy of Iconic stature, then I don’t care to know what else would.

Original Score: Good.
Initial Adjusted Score: Excellent!
Final Adjusted Score: Iconic!

Overrated!

As many of our readers are undoubtedly aware, I am an overpowered hype train incarnate. Unsurprisingly, I also have a tendency to become hyperfocused and more than just a little fixated on things when I love or hate them. Naturally, I was predisposed to a particularly rapt interest in this year’s greatest surprise, a new Sunburst album. Fully ready to accept that I would never hear from these Greek power prog powerhouses again, Manifesto made me extremely happy for the entire time I spent reviewing it.

In the months that followed, several major events in my life, at work, and elsewhere conspired to take me away from many of the records I loved. However, I made a concerted effort to revisit Manifesto as often as I could. Unfortunately, those efforts revealed a bit of a nagging feeling that I had been blind to some of this record’s flaws—namely, bloat. It’s not egregious, and it doesn’t ruin any song, but it does occasionally make fifty minutes of high-octane, high-IQ power metal feel closer to an hour. This is by no means a deal-breaker, and every song is still a banger. There’s no denying that Manifesto is a great album, and I still love it dearly. But, after removing my delicately rose-tinted glasses and looking at Sunburst with a more realistic eye, I recognize that by giving in to my infallible enthusiasm for a record I couldn’t have hoped for, I failed to fairly assess its quality in comparison to the many other fantastic records 2024 had to offer.

Original Score: Excellent!
Adjusted Score: Great!

Underrated!

Elvellon’s Ascending in Synergy underwent the inverse trajectory of Sunburst—while I cooled a touch on Sunburst, I heated up for Elvellon. In a bizarre twist of fate, the challenges I faced in life this year put much about who I am as a person and as a music enjoyer into perspective. With that came a desire to rediscover the qualities in metal that made me fall in love with it in the first place, and to honor the journey that joining this blog gifted me—explosively expanding my horizons in the greater metalverse in the process. This introspection and reflection allowed me to, rather unexpectedly, recognize how I unfairly underrated these German symphocheese standouts.

Everything that I mentioned in my coverage of Ascending in Synergy remains true, for the most part. The most significant change between then and now is how much its flaws actually bother me in relation to how absolutely enamored I am with its virtues. The first eight songs and the closer remained a staple of my listening rotation far beyond the month I spent reviewing this record, and I’ve entirely stopped feeling the urge to skip the monologue-heavy penultimate epic. While I still could do without that speech and consequential bloat, I just can’t escape the vice grip those massive hooks that litter the entirety of this hour of lushly ornamented symphonic power metal have on my heart. I truly and wholly love this album. While far from most unique or the most complex record released this year, it is undoubtedly one of my favorites. It should then be rated to reflect that. So it shall be!

Original Score: Very Good!
Adjusted Score: Great!

Cherd

Baby, I done you wrong

Back in September, I ran roughshod over the poor score counter, proclaiming the blackened, sludgened death metal of Glacial Tomb’s Lightless Expanse a towering achievement befitting the band’s geographical location high in the Colorado Rockies. I still believe that the combo of “Voidwomb/Enshrined in Concrete/Abyssal Host” is “…a world-beating three-song stretch of brutality and tasteful songwriting.” However, I’ve come to realize some of the other material on the album doesn’t live up to the kind that should break the score counter’s back heart. So score counter, if you’re reading this, baby I love you. I’ve been such an ass. Please take me back? I promise it won’t happen again for probably a couple months.

Original score: 4.0
Adjusted score: 3.5

Mistakes made in the dark

Sometimes when you spend a lot of time with an album, you experience a kind of Stockholm Syndrome. You enter the world conjured by the sound and atmosphere and you become more amenable to its charms than you did on first impression, even if that impression was right. This past June I went spelunking into the ridiculously grimy death metal depths of Black Wound’s Warping Structure. It could have been the acrid air or the lack of sunlight affecting my judgement, but something about it captured me in a way it doesn’t as I revisit the album. Don’t mistake me, despite the commentariat finding the raw production a bridge too far, I still think it’s a fun, filthy time. It’s just that as I swing my head lantern around, things that once looked menacing in the dark are in reality a bit less imposing.

Original score: 3.5
Adjusted score: 3.0

What’s in a score?

Six years ago, during my n00bdom, I was hazed most egregiously when Steel Druhm assigned me A Hero for the World’s Winter Is Here. Ostensibly the second part of a “rock opera” by one Jacob Kaasgaard, this album was in fact 90 minutes of Christmas classics and a single original song–in three versions–presented in the weeniest of weenie power metal styles. While Kaasgaard was clearly a competent instrumentalist, his singing veered into the unintentionally comical, and his ability to self-edit, and for that matter any self-awareness, was non-existent. I gave it a rare 1.0 and attempted to move on. Kaasgaard, however, wasn’t done with me. My wife and I decided that Christmas to put on Winter Is Here for shits and giggles as we decorated the tree. Then we did so the next year. The year after that, we decided to welcome the Yuletide by playing the album the day after Thanksgiving. We introduced it to friends of ours, who like us, laughed at the earnest disaster of it all, but, like us, they began using it to kick off their holiday festivities every year since. Something about the clear joy Kaasgaard exudes as he plays and sings these classic songs–and his earworm original–has lowered our critical defenses. Winter Is Here remains a bad album. But it’s a bad album we enjoy a little less ironically with every passing year.1

Original score: 1.0
Adjusted score: 1.0
Sentimental score: 4.0

#2024 #AHeroForTheWorld #AscendingInSynergy #Ayreon #BlackWound #ContriteMetalGuy #Elvellon #FoetalJuice #GlacialTomb #Gluttony #IVoice #InThisMomentWeAreFreeCities #Inheritance #LightlessExpanse #Manifesto #MitochondrialSun #MuskOx #Sunburst #Transitus #Vuur #Warforged #WarpingStructure #WinterIsHereAHolidayRockOperaPt2

Contrite Metal Guy: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Wrongness, Volume the First | Angry Metal Guy

Part I of a mammoth mea culpa for all the ways we've wronged you over time. Forgiveness!

Angry Metal Guy