The Black Dahlia Murder is a band I’ve had the honor of watching develop throughout its entire career. With its debut in 2003, an album that I think stands up much better than the chuckleheads below, the Michigan melodic death metal act has been with me for twenty years. I saw them opening for bands before anyone knew who they were, and I was buying each new release on release day. In 2024, The Black Dahlia Murder faces new challenges, moving on from the tragic loss of vocalist and scene giant Trevor Strnad and they will release Servitude on the 27th of September (that’s tomorrow, yes). So, before I unleash my Very Important Opinions™ on the world about the new full-length LP, we thought that a romp through the band’s discography seemed in order. Note that anyone who tells you that Ritual isn’t their best album is lying to you. – Angry Metal Guy

The Ranking(s)

Dr. Wvrm

#9. Unhallowed (2002). At first glance, you would be forgiven for thinking Unhallowed is by a completely different band. This album is three kids standing on each other’s shoulders and wearing a trench coat next to the other records in this catalog. But despite how far TBDM still has to go from this point, Unhallowed has its positives. Its take on 90s Gothenburg is interesting, if not always good, and it certainly doesn’t lack energy. “Elder Misanthropy” is the first entry into the pantheon of all-time TBDM jams, even if it’s a messy one. It’s a long way up from here for the boys from Michigan, but you can clearly see the seeds of what’s to come in this debut.

#8. Verminous (2020). That Verminous is the low point of modern TBDM despite being pretty good says quite a lot about the level of output this band has maintained for the last 20 years. The album maintains the reflexive phase started by Abysmal (more on that in a bit), feeling more like a down-and-dirty expansion of their ideas on Everblack at times. The execution, however, falls further down than I’d like. For a band with bangers aplenty, Verminous never finds its bonafide hit and feels stuck in first gear.

#7. Abysmal (2015). Don’t get me wrong—Abysmal features some of the strongest fretwork in TBDM’s catalog (with Ryan Knight still on board at this point, who is surprised by this?). But coming at the tail of an incredible four-album run, Abysmal’s return to hyperkinetic hooks and solos begins a third phase in the band’s catalog. Instead of pushing onward and outward from the progressive attitude of Everblack, TBDM refocuses and uses the lessons learned throughout their years of experimentation to revitalize their core sound. As a result, Abysmal feels more like a transition record between eras than anything else. In theory, it’s not doing too much differently from Deflorate, and unfortunately feels a bit stale by comparison. TBDM would find a way around the all-been-done-before feel by their next album, but with Abysmal, the retread weighs a bit heavier than you’d like.

#6. Miasma (2005). Miasma demonstrates instant growth over TBDM’s debut. If Unhallowed was a rough attempt at mid-90s melodeath, Miasma surges forward to the turn-of-the-century fusion of melodic death metal and mainstream metalcore production.¹ Though they wouldn’t stick with this sound for long, there’s so much across Miasma to like, from the cleaner production and maturing songwriting to the charisma that is now starting to bleed through every facet of the music. Strnad’s famous dual vocals really come into their own here, and the rest of the performances aren’t far behind. Though there’s still one piece of the puzzle remaining, you can see the full picture starting to resolve.

#5. Deflorate (2009). This album proved not only that TBDM wasn’t a one-album wonder, but that they also weren’t a one-trick pony. Ryan Knight joined the band from Arsis and overnight launched TBDM’s lead guitar capabilities into the stratosphere. But what looked like Nocturnal on nitro on its face sees, under the hood, Brian Eschbach’s songwriting quietly started to push the boundaries of the band’s imagination and capacity. Closer “I Will Return” veers hard left from everything to that point, touching on patient development and melodic progressions in a way that we could have only guessed TBDM was capable of (“Warborn”). It may lack the highs of some other records, but Deflorate is where TBDM started to show the depths of their abilities.

#4. Everblack (2013). Those of you who know I love TBDM know why I love TBDM,² and what I want isn’t in steady supply on Everblack. What is, however, is perhaps the pinnacle of TBDM’s exploratory songwriting and certainly the heights of Knight’s solo abilities (“Into the Everblack”). Everblack is a grower in a catalog of showers, operating in many ways like a prog death album in its attention to detail and willingness to fiddle with genre conventions. It’s also Strnad at his most diverse, leading an excellent full-ensemble performance from melodeath to straight death to black metal and back again. My personal predilection for beeg boi melojams is the only reason this isn’t placing higher on this list; on an objective quality scale, Everblack is aces.

#3. Ritual (2011). Now we’re talking. Everything up to this point had something holding it back for me, be it concept, style, or execution. Ritual is the first record on this list where any quibbles I have are so minor as to be unmentionable. Delivering on the promise of “I Will Return,” Ritual ain’t afraid to get a little weird. Off-kilter takes like “Den of the Picquerist” are exotic curios from a faraway land next to two prior records that spent 95% of their runtime turning your ass into tenderized steak. Here, a more interesting weapon of choice filters into the core proceedings of the record, with offerings like “On Stirring Seas of Salted Blood” providing the perfect chaser to the moonshine shot of “Moonlight Equilibrium.” This is the band’s most complete offering, giving you a taste of everything TBDM has dreamt up over their career, and I venture that Ritual would be one (or two!) spot(s) on this list higher… if I weren’t such a weenie.³

#2. Nightbringers (2017). But I am such a weenie.⁴ Is Nightbringers effectively Nocturnal with the world’s greatest spit shine? Sure is, and cui gives a shit? It’s got the most polished bow on it you’ll ever see. If you like riffs, and if you like hooks, and if you like them at the same time and in copious quantities, Nightbringers is all you’ll ever need. TBDM poured fifteen years of hard-won lessons and honed songcraft into revitalizing one of the most well-loved and well-regarded (by people with taste) albums in the genre. As such, it feels fresh and new and worth every second of your time, rather than like a lazy nostalgia mine. Most bands would be so lucky as to ape a classic album half as well as this, let alone have it be their own classic album. Speaking of…

#1. Nocturnal (2007). Simply put, Nocturnal is TBDM. This record is the culmination of every moment before it, to where every moment traces back. It was an instant star-maker at the time and a bonafide classic in hindsight. At the core of the band, when you strip off the years of experience and experimentation, the one constant is this sound. Like no other band, TBDM reclaimed the ’90s Swedeath buzzsaw riff and forged it anew in a bloodbath of nitro, horror-movie worship, and unfailing self-seriousness. As Nocturnal unfurls, each track seems certain to be impossible to top, only for the very next entry to do just that. Trying to pick just one Nocturnal song for a playlist (like the one below) invites an hour of “Well wait, what about…” That might not be the best reason to put an album (or two!) ahead of what is an unquestionably more well-rounded entry in Ritual, but it’s certainly the best reason to consider it among your favorite albums more than fifteen years later.

Dolphin Murderer

I don’t typically consider myself a fan of melodeath at large. But select acts that rest on what I would consider the more intense and/or techy side, Intestine Baalism, Arsis, Quo Vadis, Neuraxis, Anata, really grease my grumpy gears. And, among those, naturally, rests the oft-imitated, not quite-matched American giant The Black Dahlia Murder. I didn’t explore their catalog as they were first coming to light as I wasn’t allowed to. You see, I fancied myself a metalhead and all the -core kiddies liked bad music like Darkest Hour, All That Remains, Trivium, and The Black Dahlia Murder. So it took until sometime in my early 20s, sometime around Ritual, to even consider hitting this hallowed act. All because a cute girl with a forked tongue happened to be in my college public speaking class and wearing a sick The Black Dahlia Murder tee. Turns out she wasn’t into dudes. But I lucked into a different partner out of it all, one with sick riffs and vocal prowess that causes newcomers to think that these Michigan boys have two vocalists.

Riff in peace, Trevor.

#9. Unhallowed (2002). Armed equally with the weight of Carcass low-end harmonies and At the Gates Björriffs, TBDM hit the ground running with a gluttonous, thrash-loaded, melodeath pittin’ spree. This debut Unhallowed couldn’t have been more emblematic of the consistency that TBDM would embody throughout their career. As the start of a sound that would become part of the heavy metal dialogue, it’s really almost there in terms of quality. Strnad may not sound as comfortable in his shriek ‘em high and rattle ‘em low vocal attack, but with riffs as nasty as the latchkey turndown of “Closed Casket Reqiuem” and “Hymn for the Wretched,” he doesn’t always need to be the focus.

#8. Verminous (2020). Despite this release being the most recent of the bunch, it is also the one I recalled the least going into this ranking. When Verminous came to be it landed on my ears as a disappointment, though not necessarily a bad record. Frankly, I don’t think TBDM is capable of that. However, Verminous takes risks that other albums haven’t taken, like turning the classical lower-tuned harmonic riffs and scooping them closer to true thrash tones. Simultaneously, this allows stringslinger Brandon Ellis’ treble-focused leads to play about in a fashion that tiptoes the line between power metal cheese and melodeath flamboyance (“Godlessly,” “Removal of the Oaken Stake”). Couple that with Strnad essentially rapping at a couple of points (primarily in the percussive bounce of “How Very Dead”), and you’ve got a solid album after all with a few new wrinkles.

#7. Abysmal (2015). Similarly to Verminous, Abysmal crawls about specific production choices that highlight lead guitarist Ryan Knight’s neoclassical, virtuosic warbling. Namely, it’s louder and thrashier. While the album that came before it, Everblack, never wanted for more shred, its rhythm-focused drive—a more death metal-focused TBDM stance—did not allow sonic space for Abysmal’s inclusion of additional instruments like cellos and violins to have a place amongst the assault. Furthermore, with the increased focus on Knight’s playful prowess, each song includes easy-to-recognize marks of differentiation, whether it be a snappy intro (“Receipt,” “Abysmal”), a wicked solo (every song), or a Strnad-led crusher (“Re-Faced,” “The Advent”). It’s hard to get too much of Knight, Strnad, or TBDM when they’re this fun and tight.

#6. Everblack (2013). If you’re approximately my age, then certainly you’ve heard cries of TBDM ”not being metal” or “being metalcore.” Did you know that Metal Archives doesn’t even list metalcore as a past iteration of their sound?⁵ Well, if nothing to this point had convinced you, then Everblack would be the one to listen to. Listen, I’m not going to sit here and say you should like TBDM, but with Morbid Angel riffs crushing through slower-than-blast pace numbers (“Into the Everblack,” “Phantom Limb Masturbation”), bass rattle that won’t quick, and Ryan Knight still doing that “is he Yngwie or Greg Howe” shred to fusion-y blues thing, Everblack gives plenty of reasons why you TBDM is a death metal act first. Though the album starts a touch slow and runs long for an experience that subsists almost solely on riffs, it’s very hard to say that anything should go away. Just carve a little more time if you’re gonna jam this one.

#5. Deflorate (2009). Representing the ultimate crystallization of the TBDM sound to this point in their history, Deflorate is an absolutely consistent experience. In different hands, hands that have trouble crafting good songs, that might be an issue. But sticking true to the TBDM formula of harmonic overload, At the Gates / early-Carcass riffs, and Strnad giving a performance that no vocalist could match in this lane, Deflorate is also an easy-to-enjoy success. Notably, this is Ryan Knight’s first appearance (fresh from a stint with melotech legends in their own right, Arsis) at the helm of lead shred duties, which allows Deflorate to have a quality of guitar heroism that no album prior quite had. That’s not to say that past leadwork was subpar by any stretch, but when you hear the elegance of play on tracks like “Necropolis” or “Christ Deformed” against any of the solo breaks that came before them, it’s a whole different ball game. Ryan Knight kills it and keeps Deflorate from being just another riff-rippin’ TBDM album.

#4. Miasma (2005). From a very base stance, Miasma isn’t all too different in attack from the debut. But having already done it once at full-length, and even more on the road, TBDM took huge steps in the polish and tightening of their identity. In particular, the man, the myth, the legend Trevor Strnad steps into his role as the intensifier of already heavy-handed riffs with rolled snarls, bestial lows, and off-the-rails shriek sermons. From the lift-off of “Flies” to the narrative froth of “Dave Goes to Hollywood” to the artistic crackling of “Spite Suicide,” not a moment rings through where Strnad isn’t threatening the mic with a barely held-together glottal assault. I’ve noted on later-era albums that the acquired talents provided an extra panache to an already solid formula. Miasma, in its rawer and younger character, succeeds not through being smart and tidy but by executing TBDM’s vision of melodic death metal to the scraped limits of their abilities at the time.

#3. Nightbringers (2017). If Miasma sold the young and tattered vision that TBDM had of At the Gates riffs with campy and horror-tinged vignettes, Nightbringers sells the wiser version of it kissed by the fresh virtuosity of then-fledgling shredmeister Brandon Ellis. No riff wastes any time launching songs into chunked harmony, barked fury, and blistering solo-land. And despite the number of Björriff-forward tunes that TBDM has cranked over the years, each song here lands with its own weighty identity. Part of that is through Ellis’ neoclassically-cranked excursions that carry as much energy as any melodeath groove (“Kings of the Nightworld,” “As Good as Dead”). And, as with any TBDM outing, Strnad rips maniacally through macabre narratives with a brutal ease that possesses a memorability all its own (“Of God and Serpent, of Spectre and Snake,” “Catacomb Hecatomb” in particular). Truth be told, I’ve also spent more time with this album than any other in the TBDM catalog. When I acquired it, I was on the road more than any other time in my life, and this collection of melodeath bangers was my go-to on a sunless morning commute,⁶ where my weary eyes needed adrenaline to persevere. Nightbringers gives a dose that doesn’t quit until the last note.

#2. Nocturnal (2007). As much as I (and all the others here) have said the name At the Gates or Björriff⁷—a fate inescapable from simply the opening classic chord crush of “Everything Went Black”—it’s really the sneaking, tremolo groove Morbid Angel influence that rolls my eyes back on these hardest-hitting early TBDM numbers. This hefty American influence on the hooky and nimble Swedish sound allows monsters like “What a Horrible Night to Have a Curse” and “Of Darkness Spawned” to land with equal parts thrashy tumble and melodic sting. The addition of budding kit talent Shannon Lucas (ex-All That Remains) provides all the machine gun and tom-chattering rhythmic foundation for TBDM to excel in this realization of their early potential. Melodeath doesn’t get much more addictive than this…

#1. Ritual (2011). Well, at least melodeath doesn’t get more addictive than this until Ritual. But the craving that results from this crowning moment isn’t one of riff-indulgence, of fretboard mystery (okay, it is all of those things). Ritual has an atmosphere. The simple placement of dramatic cello lines at the onset signals a moodiness that continues through tones more bass-loaded and balanced than other efforts. I hate to praise engineer Jason Suecof for his work here as he ruined plenty of albums around this time.⁸ But everything here just works—the cut-ins to Knight’s wobbling and unpredictable axe action, the many layers of Strnad crisscrossing and connecting at group chants and shouts, the low-end weight which even propels the elevated basics d-beat ripping of “Den of the Picquerist.” Continuing to alternate between the Björriff, a churning groove, and a growing hyper-melodic attitude (“The Window”), TBDM finds more ways to hook with the same tools they’ve always had while adding subtle new elements. It’s eerie to listen to “Blood in the Ink” these days, though. Between the added tension of discordant violin lines, further swirling string accompaniment, and its all too real theme of ritual suicide, the foreboding closer is easily one of the best songs The Black Dahlia Murder ever penned. Ritual fades away in the closing echo of “Suicide is the only way out.” And it hurts. It hurt then because that kind of mental trap exists, and it hurts now because art and reality often reflect each other in the scariest and worst of ways. That intersection can breed great art though, and Ritual will live that truth so long as metalheads have ears.

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

We’ve once again used our tallying magic to use a complex point system based on submitted rankings. Thank you to the staff who could offer opinions without words. You are treasured and valuable.⁹

1. Verminous (2020)
2. Unhallowed (2003)
3. Abysmal (2015)
4. Everblack (2013)
5. Deflorate (2009)
6. Miasma (2005)
7. Nightbringers (2017)
8. Ritual (2011)
9. Nocturnal (2007)

Angry Metal Discord Pile o’ Entitled Opinions

We did the same thing for our Discord users. They smell funny, but wouldn’t you know it, they like The Black Dahlia Murder too! Hopefully, you don’t agree more with this bunch though…

1. Verminous (2020)
2. Unhallowed (2003)
3. Miasma (2005)
4. Deflorate (2009)
5. Abysmal (2015)
6. Nightbringers (2017)
7. Ritual (2011)
8. Nocturnal (2007)
9. Everblack (2013)

And what would this all be without a staff-curated playlist to accompany the celebra¬tion? Get to know The Black Dahlia Murder before their upcoming release Servitude, out September 27th, 2024 on Metal Blade Records.

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If you need a more descriptive description than that, picture this. Take Carcass melodic deathgrind and top-tier The Black Dahlia Murder onslaughts, coupled with Galneryus levels of extreme power metal leads and solos, then double the speed. There is enough energy in this mixture to slingshot a bus through the sun without even giving the driver a tan. It’s a head spinning ride, and the band knows this, because the longest tracks barely pass the 3 minute mark and the entire record lasts less than half an hour. In that time the band crams more hooks and riffs than many of their peers manage in double the time.

Need more convincing? There’s not a bad track on here, but there are highlights. The opener and the title track make for a delicious one-two punch to the groin. The latter is especially exhilarating, using the dragged-on-pavement brutality of Anaal Nathrakh with a chorus Children of Bodom wished it could’ve written. Latecomer “Vagina Dentata” draws from Dissection for a delicious blackened riff that winds and coils and spools through 3 minutes of guitar wizardry. Some tracks spice things up with smatterings of keys, such as the ethereal twinkling on “Slave Humiliation.” It doesn’t take away from the energy; when Bloody Cumshot stops to smell the flowers, they inhale the entire bush and sprint away again the next second.

On a longer record this attitude might’ve become exhausting, but as the embodiment of compact songwriting, Nymphomania is a rollercoaster ride through and through. It ends as sudden as it begins, and when it does, it leaves you so giddy with adrenaline you’ll want to go again right away. It may not be the deepest record of the year, nor the one that evokes the most emotion, but that is never the point. The point is to kick ass at ridiculous speeds with more hooks than a coat rack factory. Mission fucking accomplished.

Tracks to Check Out: “Shoot Your Ugliness,” “Nymphomania” and “Vagina Dentata.”

The post Bloody Cumshot – Nymphomania [Things You Might Have Missed 2021] appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Best known as the vocalist of Entombed, L.G. helped catapult the Swedish death metal sound into popularity with the landmark Left Hand Path album in 1990. He appeared on eight studio albums with Entombed, also helping them establish the death n’ roll genre which they first experimented with on 1993s Wolverine Blues. In 2013 he formed Entombed A.D. and released three albums under that banner.

We at AMG want to extend our condolences to his family and friends. L.G. gave us a lot of great music to remember him by and he will be missed. Hails.

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Forhist is Vindsval playing the most straightforward black metal of his career since 1995’s Ultima Thulée. The album combines swirling, other-worldly guitar-work, judicious use of synthesizers, and an atmoblack aesthetic (replete with sound effects pulled straight from nature). Initially, this works a charm. “I” opens with birdsong that rapidly launches into black metal that is both beautiful and atmospheric, guided by deft tremolo work that highlights what a master the leading man is. The early parts of the album are scattered with organic, melodic highs, bringing to mind the best bits of Dialogue with the Stars. Forhist, at its best, captures what makes Blut Aus Nord such a compelling band: the ability to make music that is both gorgeous and deeply atmospheric.

Unfortunately, the rest of Forhist struggles to match the early highs, and is a disappointingly tepid affair. This stems predominantly from a lack of originality; the album hews too closely to much of Blut Aus Nord’s output. Vindsval is not obliged to reinvent the wheel with his band, but there needs to be something to separate it from his other project. Forhist, sadly, fails in this regard. The dynamics, the aesthetic, the atmosphere… these have all been done before on the Memoria Vetusta albums, and done better. Perhaps it was the chemistry of the band, perhaps it was a burst of creativity, perhaps things felt fresher back then. But while Blut Aus Nord felt (and feels) unique, Forhist is worn and occasionally stale, treading tropes with little attempt at providing an unusual or original perspective.

The songwriting and a strange mix also let the album down. Vindsval’s guitar swirls and swoops and generally impresses, but the songs lack the riffs to keep you coming back. Whether passages that repeat themselves until, like an over-chewed stick of gum, they become flavorless (“II”), or chords that dance around but ultimately do not progress (“IV”), the material on Forhist doesn’t support the dazzling guitar work. The mix compounds matters by relegating the vocals so far back that I had to check my headphones were still working. Atmoblack often has vocals that sound like they were recorded in another room. Forhist’s sounds like they were recorded in another zip-code. This is clearly an artistic choice, but it makes you wonder why Vindsval didn’t simply make an instrumental album instead. Regardless, the mix is distracting rather than organic, pulling the listener out of the experience rather than immersing them in it.

Ultimately, Forhist sounds like a B-side of a cool Blut Aus Nord album. Vindsval’s tornado guitar work never feels old, but the lack of originality, the patchy songwriting, and the distracting mix render this collection disappointing. Die-hard fans will certainly find something to enjoy here, but the rest of us would be advised to simply pop on one the Memoria Vetusta albums instead. Sometimes, going back to basics is a step in the wrong direction.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Website: blutausnord.bandcamp.com/album/forhist
Releases Worldwide: February 26th, 2021

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The answer, sadly, is no. Among Ashes and Monoliths sticks to the tried and tested formula, which sounded fresh in 1993, but is getting stale now. The first major problem with Among Ashes and Monoliths is that too many of the songs are compositionally dull. The band comes up with a riff, which is usually fairly basic and involves rudimentary chord changes, and then proceeds to hammer this idea into oblivion without any real development. There’s the usual verse/chorus/verse, but too many tracks just don’t go anywhere interesting. “Among Ashes and Monoliths” has a crunchy riff that isn’t expanded upon or altered in any meaningful way over 4 minutes. “Grit” simply recycles its tremolo verse and thudding chorus to the point that any interest is hammered out. The lack of evolution on many of the tracks is evident the more you listen. This is compounded by songs that are also too light, lacking the crunch of good death metal, while also not having enough melody to compensate. The result is that Among Ashes and Monoliths is just not very interesting.

The album as a whole also seems bereft of ideas. Too many of the songs sound similar to each other, and to their 90s influences, and languidly hum along at the same mid-to-fast tempo of countless predecessors. There are riffs that have been clearly recycled between tracks (“At the Graves of Giants” and “Frihet Famför Feghet” feel like they have a common progenitor), and even the strained clean vocals are consistent (“The Cavernous Deep” and “The Day I Die”). This sense of deja vu is particularly noticeable in the album’s middle section, which drags badly as a result. Among Ashes and Monoliths feels much longer than its 50 minute run time, but is also surprisingly unmemorable.

This is frustrating, because there are moments, and movements, of Among Ashes and Monoliths that work well. “My Sorrow” has an urgent, compelling melody driving it forward. “The Cavernous Deep” has a catchy, melodic chorus that will get those neck muscles flexing in all the best ways. Fragments of interest appear, but are then snatched away by a familiar-sounding riff or chorus. This is an album of cool moments, performed by competent and experienced musicians, but there is simply not enough variety and dynamism linking those moments for them to make a lasting impression.

Among Ashes and Monoliths feels like a very early version of a potentially cool album; the first draft of a manuscript. There are ideas here, but they’re either underdeveloped or bashed into oblivion. There are cool riffs, but there also are too many versions of the same cool riff, rendering them impotent. Too many songs sound like knockoffs of each other and it’s neither crunchy nor melodic enough to stick out in the genre it helped define. The result is an unoriginal hodgepodge that will likely leave fans of melodeath, and the Swedish scene, dissatisfied.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Lion Records
Websites: ablazemysorrowblacklion.bandcamp.com/ | facebook.com/ablazemysorrowswe
Releases Worldwide: February 12th, 2021

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There’s something special about the Irish metal. Mythological elements intertwine with its primordial melodies in a unique blend of sounds that conjure rage, desperation, melancholy, and heritage, often simultaneously. One-man project from Rush, Scáth Na Déithe is a shining example of this balancing act of death and black metal. From the potential hinted in debut EP The Horrors of Old to stunningly dark debut full-length Pledge Nothing But Flesh, it fuses the density of esoteric death metal a la Teitanblood and Grave Miasma with the slow burn and melancholia of The Blaze of Perdition and The Ruins of Beverast with hints of doom. Sophomore effort The Dirge of Endless Mourning continues this trend in one of the more actualized and balanced blackened affairs of 2020.

Similar to Prometheus’ Resonant Echoes from Cosmos of Old from this year, Scáth Na Déithe strikes a balance of death and black with stunning professionalism, balancing out scathing tremolo and distant roars and shrieks with bottom-end heft and a healthy dose of murk. What shows a marked improvement over Pledge Nothing But Flesh is its track lengths: four tracks, each ten minutes or longer. The result is a superbly well-written affair, as transitions are smooth and seamless between passages of pummeling density and others of ominous ambiance or acoustic plucking. Variety takes center stage in the form of its balanced tempos and flourishes, but never deviate from the central sound.

Each track takes on a life of its own. Opener “The Maligner’s Tongue” and “Remnant Understanding” are bleakly dark affairs full of punishing riffs and doom tempos, a lovechild of Teitanblood and The Ruins of Beverast. “Misery Beyond Time” and “Ochón” schowcase exercises in melancholia, bordering on Agalloch with folk dreariness and blackened doom heft (although the dueling riff in “Misery Beyond Time” is tiiight). As aforesaid, these two distinct moods are streamlined by their adherence to the murky black/death palette, morphing from stinging shreds to punishing riffs seamlessly, thanks to the album’s ultimate dependence on its brooding atmosphere. The Dirge of Endless Mourning accomplishes a complex mood that feels distinctly dark overall while allowing its individual pieces to communicate more through its potent chord transitions and melodic flourishes.

At the end of the day, The Dirge of Endless Mourning does little to challenge black/death, and instead offers a fantastic example of it. The Irish heritage is undeniable in Scáth Na Déithe’s style, but it avoids tacky clichés in favor of a listen that is blistering, punishing, beautiful, and haunting. Perhaps one of the most noticeable improvements of the year, this Irish project does its subject justice while gracefully dodging easy pigeonholing for a stunningly atmospheric listen that settles nicely between death and black, using its folk and doom assets effectively.

Tracks to Hunt Leprechauns To: “The Maligner’s Tongue,” “Misery Beyond Time,” and “Ochón”

The post Scáth Na Déithe – The Dirge of Endless Mourning [Things You Might Have Missed 2020] appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

The reason why Kannustaa is such a joy to listen to is that it takes the traditional tropes of fairly raw black metal, and twists them to create an absolutely heart-wrenching journey that is nevertheless profoundly rewarding. At first blush, this sounds like mid-paced, fairly sparse, second-wave goodness, seasoned with some post-metal garnishings, particularly on its second half. But when you peak beneath the skin, there’s a beating heart full of raw power and emotion, and this is brought to life by wonderful guitar-work from A. Đ. on lead and Jamie Bibbs on bass. The instruments soar and swoop and take all sorts of interesting detours, never losing sight of the exposed, raw soul that anchors Kannustaa. They bring the album to life without sacrificing the raw, ugly side of traditional black metal.

Emotion is all fine and well, but it requires strong songwriting to bring it to life. Kannustaa succeeds the way it does because the melodies and progressions are so compelling. Whether pushing forward remorselessly on “To Give and Forget,” and “Don’t Leave Me,” or taking time to rest and explore on “A Plea for Solitude,” the chords and passages perfectly mirror the somber tone of the album as a whole. The production wisely pushes the guitars to the forefront (occasionally burying the drums, sadly), but is never so clean as to distract from the messy emotions the band is conveying. Its harshness and murkiness combine, paradoxically, to create a picture that is crystal clear. I don’t know a single word of what is being sung, and yet, thanks to the music, I understand every line.

When 2020 draws to a close, it is unlikely the vulnerable Kannustaa will feature on many lists. There are flashier albums. There are more technically proficient. There are faster and heavier. Besides, vulnerability has never been particularly cool. But to miss this one would be a mistake. In a world driven to deep despair, in which the all-too-common response is coolly detached irony, the sincerity of Kannustaa is something to be admired. That they managed to translate this to a set of excellent and moving songs is nothing short of miraculous.

Tracks to Check Out: “A Plea For Solitude,” “Shadows in the Sky”

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Völur is a thing that I too nearly missed this year. The Canadian folk/doom trio received a strong recommendation from Akerblogger some years ago, and returned this year to unleash their third full-length, Death Cult, upon the Angry Metal Masses this past November. Unfortunately, life got in the way, and the album was never picked up for review. Now I’m here to rectify the issue, because as far as doom metal goes, Death Cult is one of the best albums I’ve heard in some time, and the single month its been on my radar has been one of the most doom-heavy months of my year. What does that tell you, dear reader? That you should lean back in your chair, hit the play button below, and let me spend the next three hundred or so words explaining why you want this album in your life.

Essentially, it’s because Völur play an avant-garde style of doom metal, with undertones of jazz, melodeath, and folk metal. On Death Cult, Völur sounds like what I imagine would happen if King Goat and Apocalypse Orchestra merged together and decided their music could stand to be gloomier than it is. The guitars do not dominate, nor do they crush the listener; instead, they unsettle, distort, and act as anchor for the vocals and electric violins that make up the true meat of the music. Lucas Gadke and Laura C. Bates share vocal duties, singing, screaming, and drowning the listener in pain. I would be remiss if I didn’t compare the former’s harsh growls to Jón Aldará’s (Hamferð, Barren Earth), and the latter’s violin work is key for the band’s melodic style. Behind the drumkit, Justin Ruppel offers a hypnotizing performance in an album where the pace is slow, methodical, and enrapturing. As individuals, the performances are strong — together, they feel unstoppable in their quest to rage and dismay.

One of the best things about Death Cult is that it’s about as avant-garde as doom metal gets. Here, Völur embrace their free jazz impulses, and the result is stunning, unnerving, beautiful, mystical, and different all at once. With only four tracks spanning fewer than forty minutes, Death Cult still offers more ideas, bigger catharses, and takes greater risks than most doom metal I’ve heard this year. Whether in the haunting choruses of “Reverend Queen,” the unnerving distorted groove of “Inviolate Grove,” or the soaring melodies in “Dead Moon,” Völur offer a new take on a genre that doesn’t often see innovation while maintaining its dark nature.

Avant-garde doom metal from Canada. Do I really need to say more to pique your interest?¹ Völur and Death Cult are things I’m grateful I didn’t miss this year, and so, in lieu of the proper review I wish I’d written for them, let me just say that I highly recommend that you check out the twisted, barren landscape that is Death Cult. This album is a stunning journey, and Völur makes for an exceptional guide through the desolation.

Tracks to Check Out: Come on, it’s a four-track album. Fine. “Inviolate Grove,” “Reverend Queen.”

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What you get is raw, gritty, pretension-free death, an album that claws for the jugular, with an inspired mix of hook-laden butchery and slick technicality. Clocking in at a lean and mean shade under half an hour, Demons of the Skull is the perfect length for such a dense, stabbing display of old school brutality, flashy technical chops, and a truckload of killer riffs. There is an immediacy to the album that speaks of Intellect Devourer’s song crafting skills. Shreddy guitar work, nimble, attention grabbing basslines, and ever shifting rhythmic complexities are grounded by thick, headbangable grooves and genuinely catchy riffs. The songs are dynamic, compelling components of a unified whole, resulting in a collection that feels fresh and never monotonous, with tempo shifts aplenty within fluid structures. Vocally, the rancid, occasionally decipherable growls are downright vicious and perfectly suited to the material. The bludgeoning blasts and ferocity of opener “Damien Rose from the Tomb of Jesus” wields unhinged aggression with murderous abandon, featuring meaty grooves, melodic soloing, and colossal mid-section. It’s a short, power packed blast that sets the tone for what is to follow.

This shit hammers with bruising, tight and relentless riffage. Intellect Devourer’s satisfyingly rugged, underground exterior, comes steeped in dank, evil atmosphere that early Morbid Angel would be proud of. The darker strains of the classic Floridian scene from yesteryear embellish songs that mix technical expertise with tasty melodic strains, courtesy of the dashing solos, and punchy melodic counterpoint of the ever present bass. Intellect Devourer pull no punches, and while the music is labelled as tech-death, this is a different beast to your average modern tech-death album. From a technical perspective Intellect Devourer impress with their collective prowess and masterful use of dynamics. However, it is the genuinely memorable songcraft that bumps the album up a level. Written back in the early ’90s, “Prayer to Thessaly” is a demented throwback, a blackened assault of blasphemous death that grips the throat and does not let up. Chest caving blasts, thrashy bursts and fast fingered fretwork keep the speed jacked, but Intellect Devourer prove just as adept at slower paces, such as the sick grooves and doomy lurches on “Sorrow Incarnate” and mighty closer, “Waves of Blood.”

Demons of the Skull plays like a refurbished relic from another time, and I mean that in the best possible way. Although Intellect Devourer’s dated marketing schemes leave a bit to be desired, this mysterious outfit delivered an accomplished and intelligent meshing of death metal’s past and present, delivered with finesse and no-nonsense attitude. Death metal has reigned supreme in 2020, but amidst the bevy of excellent releases, be sure to check out this sleeper gem.

Tracks to Check Out: ”Demons of the Skull,” “Sorrow Incarnate,” “Prayer to Thessaly,” “Waves of Blood.”

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Luna’s Call haven’t been around very long, but they certainly sound as well-traveled as anyone. Mature, complex songwriting abounds on Void, but not at the expense of fun or excitement. Unlike their debut, which felt like Opeth channeling tech death and Danny Elfman, their sophomore effort blossoms in theatrical Native Constructs with the same flair for the dramatic that Queen often evokes. Individual elements mutate according to the needs of the song, which is exactly how any progressive metal band should incorporate them. Correspondingly, songs mutate according to the needs of the album, again exactly as any progressive metal band should compose them. As a result, Void feels like an expansive concept record and is, therefore, best experienced as a whole.

If there was any one song to convince you further, dear readers, that this record demands your time, attention, and money, it’s “Solar Immolation.” A scathing, scalding opus totaling over 13 minutes in length, this blazing number traverses the gamut of Luna’s Call’s arsenal of tools. Lush strings and space-age synths collaborate with a beautiful piano melody, carried to your ears on the back of a super slick prog-death introduction. From that point, the song juggles different sounds and landscapes without so much as a hiccup. By the time “Solar Immolation” ends, it takes some willpower not to pause and just let the silence punctuate the moment for a minute…

No! We must continue, for there is much left to explore, like “Enceladus and the Life Inside.” Breathtaking vocal melodies melt amidst noodly bass lines and sweet piano arpeggios. It might not be a heavy track, but the burden of its emotional weight too easily ensconces my senses, causing shivers to race up my spine. “Locus” plays with false starts and silence, which troubled me at first, but I quickly came to regard it as one of the standouts of the album because it keeps me on my toes. Immediately following “Locus,” “In Bile They Bathe” executes a swift kick to the balls before booking it—a fine, upstanding power move which proves that the band knows how to self-edit, only putting material where it belongs in measures that make sense.

It makes sense, then, that Luna’s Call close out the record with another long-form banger, “Fly Further Cosmonaut.” Prog-death, delivered with barebones instrumentation, suddenly explodes in a lush crescendo before immediately retreating to pensive plucking and excellent clean singing only to then bring forth a veritable smorgasbord of dynamic twists and satisfying textures. And just like that, Void is over. No frivolous outros or pretentious monologues. It just ends. Magnificent.

Tracks to Check Out: “Solar Immolation,” “Enceladus and the Life Inside,” “Locus,” and “Fly Further Cosmonaut”

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