Blindfolded and Led to the Woods is a band from New Zealand with a bit of a storied past. Originally starting off as a humor-centric deathcore group with bizarrely titled offerings like Armed to the Teeth with Jellybeans or My Vaseline Diaries, the song “Atop the Wings of a Magpie” changed everything. Dissonant interplay, ominous tempos, speedy riffs, and even a guest spot from Nile’s Karl Sanders replace mindless breakdowns and Psyopus-inspired wankery. Nightmare Withdrawals may not be their debut, but it’s their breakout album, and for good fucking reason.

The most appealing part of Nightmare Withdrawals is its balance. Clearly channeling acts like Replicant in a riffier interpretation of Ulcerate-inspired dissonant death metal, it kicks serious ass without sacrificing its psychedelic atmosphere. While tracks like “Black Air,” “The White of the Eyes,” and “Rorschach and Delirium” feature kickass riffs that can border on -core breakdown territory, they inject a palpable energy, keep the album grounded, and open the stage for the true headliners. The madness-inducing epics like “…And You Will Try to Speak,” “Atop the Wings of a Magpie,” and “Sic Mundus Creatus Est” offer constantly shifting rhythms and nearly post-rock-influenced plucking passages make them feel like journeys through fever dream landscapes of terror and beauty. The one-two punch of “Lucid Visitations” and the title track are particularly of note, as they make the best use of their uniquely disturbed guitar tone for the most memorable riffs of the album, while always utilizing shifty rhythms and calm passages and alternating tastefully between dissonance and melody.

The claustrophobic mixing reveals the self-released nature of Nightmare Withdrawals, but it works for the avant-garde nature of Blindfolded and Led to the Woods. While grounded nicely in riff-centricity, it nevertheless soars thanks to its stellar songwriting. Music of this nature, with the collision of several approaches, has a potential to sound mismatched and chaotic, but these New Zealanders balance it with grace and competence. Its more outlandish or inconsistent passages, such as the suddenly melodic plucking in “…And You Will Try to Speak” or the arrhythmic shifting in “Rorschach and Delirium” would be obvious detractors, but the aptly nightmarish fluidity in Nightmare Withdrawals allows this freedom.

At the end of the day, Blindfolded and Led to the Woods’ foray in Nightmare Withdrawals amid and between its various death metal-centric styles is tantalizing: while it feels firmly rooted in Ulcerate-esque dissonant tech, it incorporates enough -core and groove flourishes to keep it fresh and fun, while its atmospheric tendencies adhere to the pitch-black soundscape that remains as isolating and mysterious as the dark woods at midnight. In spite of it being their third full-length, it feels like a reset, a debut from a brand new act. Offering a tasty slather of songs balancing accessible and outlandish with professionalism and deft, the elephant in the room also posits the potential as to what these guys will be capable of next time around. While far from a debut, it feels like a reset from a band with the world as their dissonant oyster.

Tracks to Check Out: “Atop the Wings of a Magpie,” “Nightmare Withdrawals,” “Rorschach and Delirium”

The post Blindfolded and Led to the Woods – Nightmare Withdrawals [Things You Might Have Missed 2021] appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

If raw black metal, like Old Nick or Black Cilice, is 99% chocolate dissolved in disquietingly malodorous milk, then Monumental – The Temple of Twilight is 45% milk chocolate in milky milk, with neither too much, nor too little, sugar. And nothing else. This is the basic recipe, almost unaltered and unadorned. You’ve had this a hundred times before and the mileage you get from this collection will entirely depend on how fond you are of this stuff. Sticking so closely to pre-existing templates is risky: it means that the music had better be stellar, and in this case, The Mist From the Mountains is only partially successful.

The first thought that came to mind on listening to Monumental – The Temple of Twilight was “slick.” This is an efficient, relatively bloat-free album that hits all the beats of very enjoyable black metal. The riffs are catchy, the songs progress in a logical way, and at 37 minutes, it never threatens to overstay its welcome. When proceedings slow down, or synths are introduced, or clean vocals enter the fray, it all sounds logical and appropriate. There is a sense of clear momentum in songs like “A Paean to Fire” and “Master of Wilderness” which should get even the most of arthritic of necks bobbing. The Mist From the Mountains know how to make entertaining black metal, and the album is never dull.

The downside is that it’s all so sleek and efficient and grime-free that there is very little personality. Much like adding (gasp!) mint, or (perish the thought!) caramel, to a warm drink, The Mist From the Mountains take very few risks, and stick to tried-and-tested formulas that they know are crowd-pleasers. But, if you listen to a lot of black metal, you’ll find yourself yearning for them to do something to really stamp their personality on their music. Even when the band stops the fury, it’s to do things you’ve heard before, in a manner you’re familiar with. Like the introduction of female vocals in “Thus Spake the Tongueless Serpent” (a la Diadem of 12 Stars) or the folksy acoustics of “With the Sun and the Skies and the Birds Above” (a la every pagan metal album ever). There’s a clear, well-thumbed recipe here, and The Mist From the Mountains are sticking rigidly to it.

The Mist From the Mountains have created a very slick, very professional atmospheric black metal album. A hot chocolate with promise. It has the ingredients. It’s correctly mixed. It’s tasty. But it ultimately feels hollow and transient. While everything works, and there are few obvious weak spots, it’s also so formulaic and personality-less that remembering it after it has ended is quite difficult. And when you’re consuming a lot, you place a premium on memorability. If you’re looking for a quick ‘n’ easy stomach-filler, The Mist From the Mountains have got you covered. But if you’re looking for a mind-bending gustatory experience, this is unlikely to satisfy.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Primitive Reaction
Website: facebook.com/TheMistFromTheMountains/
Releases Worldwide: January 28th, 2022

The post The Mists From the Mountains – Monumental – The Temple of Twilight Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Like many of you, my allegiances are with my local scene. With Covid taking over bars and venues, it’s been challenging to keep up with the ever-changing scene as new basement bands emerge, and veterans call it quits. Thankfully, my fellow Phoenicians, Take Over and Destroy, didn’t let the pandemic get them down—quite the opposite, really. Earlier this year, they were a band that’s been quiet for almost five years. Later in the year, they surprised the entire metal community by materializing a new record out of the fucking ether. With a kickass, old-school vinyl cover and a straightforward attitude to doom and sludge, Fade Out is the Covid album we all wanted. Drop the needle, and let’s get mad.

With nine total tracks, Fade Out is cleverly bookended by “Fade In” and “Fade Out.” Between these tracks exist hate, pain, and a shitload of passion. “Film Crux” follows the massive “Fade In,” lobbying for your very soul. Keeping with the crushing riffs of its predecessor, “Film Crux” issues forth a heavy-hitting yet devastatingly melodic recognition for everything that’s gone wrong in 2021. And follow-up tracks, “Breath in a Plastic Mask” and “Principal Photography,” don’t dissuade us from the anger we feel. Similar in approach to the older, doomier sound of Spirit Adrift, these tracks simplify the effect of their predecessors with singly-plucked riffs. The simple grooves and peaked emotion make your eyes water as the band helps your face meet your desk.

As you progress through the album, you become comfortable with it, knowing that this is another signature TOaD album. Well, that’s until you hit the back-to-back “Exit Bag” and “Night Break.” The first is a minute-and-a-half pummeling that combines punk and Sodom. It’s so out of left-field, it left me stunned. But, goddamn, it’s good, and its runtime is just right. Then, its partner in crime hits. “Night Break” has a similar ferocity to “Exit Bag,” but with a killer surprise up its sleeve. Unlike its Sodomy predecessor, “Night Break” closes with a Toxic Holocaust lick that’ll make you wish you were in a hotel room so you could trash it.

Every time I listen to Fade Out, I have to start it again. I can’t believe how much there is in this Danzig-sized package. For fuck’s sake, the album is less than thirty fucking minutes. But what a compliment it makes to Take Over and Destroy. While that album carried was more diverse and carried more girth, Fade Out sheds the load and does what it does best. It shreds. If you’ve never heard this Arizonian outfit before, now’s your chance to hop on to the bandwagon.

Tracks to Check Out: ”Breath in a Plastic Mask,” “Principal Photography,” “Exit Bag,” and “Night Break”

The post Take Over and Destroy – Fade Out [Things You Might Have Missed 2021] appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Nearly a decade since their sophomore album, Nekromantheon return like no time has passed, taking the listener on a frantic hellride through 32 sandblasted minutes of top-notch, old school thrash. Nary a moment is wasted, Nekromantheon spew forth killer riff after killer riff, cut with wildly unhinged soloing, hammering percussion, and harsh, throaty howls. Nekromantheon’s unhinged, relentless mode of aural assault remains as savage as ever, yet memorable and oddly accessible. Frankly, the trio could give two fucks about trends or innovation, admirably sticking to their guns and releasing another teeth kicking thrash platter.

Each song features noteworthy, arse-kicking moments across a typically lean, mean and consistent collection. High-quality riffs abound, equipped with suitably clear, yet organic, nasty tones, bolster tunes ideal for soundtracking pillaging, looting and all-round hellraising. The frantic pacing and wildly chaotic leads pave the way to domination on the opening title track. “Faustian Rites” is all about rampant speed and unchained aggression, while “Scorched Earth” features an effective opening salvo of restrained, ominous atmosphere, before releasing the hounds with their trademark shredding attack of belligerent thrash. The lack of bullshit interludes or half-baked instrumentals ensures the album’s momentum does not let up, as Nekromantheon cap off a neatly executed mission of destruction on the more dynamic, yet equally explosive closing salvo, “Zealot Reign,” featuring an absolutely killer mid-song groove, replete with gripping six-string fireworks.

Although Nekromatheon’s triumphant return didn’t quite earn them honors on my end-of-year list, I couldn’t be happier to have them back on deck, sounding so enraged and full of fire and adrenaline. Visions of Trismegistos garnered many a listen and I am far from tired of its gnarly style and cutthroat execution. My only minor quibble is the material falls slightly below the outstanding quality of its esteemed predecessor, and the band shows little to no signs of breaking the mold or exploring new territories. That being said, I probably wouldn’t want Nekromantheon any other way.

Ever since my ears were blasted by Rise, Vulcan Spectre I have hoped for an eventual return from a band that seemed destined for great things. Nekromantheon may not achieve the level of popularity as some of their modern thrash peers, but their steadfast commitment to the uglier, underground aesthetics of ’80s thrash offers a refreshing blast of chaotic fun in the modern thrash scene. Visions of Trismegistos delivers in spades and is a long overdue return from a mighty fine thrash unit.

Tracks to Check Out: ”The Visions of Trismegistos”, “Faustian Rites,” “Scorched Death,” Zealot Reign”

The post Nekromantheon – Visions of Trismegistos [Things you Might Have Missed 2021] appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

I am surrounded by no shortage of friends and loved ones who are also enthralled by Cowan’s artistry. My partner first pointed me to Heart Healer, a new metal opera project founded by musician Magnus Karlsson (Last Tribe, Allen/Lande, Primal Fear) which features the Seven Spires star. But on this set of ten tracks, Cowan is not the sole vocalist. On The Metal Opera, Karlsson teams up, not only with Cowan, but with six other strong vocalists. Bear with me while I capture them all here. Netta Laurenne (Smackbound, Laurenne/Louhimo), Youmna Jreissati (Ostura), Ailyn Gimenez (Her Chariot Awaits, ex-Sirenia), Noora Louhimo (Battle Beast), Margarita Monet (Edge of Paradise), and Anette Olzon (The Dark Element, ex-Nightwish) join Cowan, all bringing with them unique energy and vocal prowess. The Metal Opera is a dramatic concept album about a character (played by Cowan) who wakes with complete memory loss of everything, including her own identity. Cowan learns that she can heal people with her touch at the cost of her own strength. Intensity builds throughout the album as each vocalist steps into the role of a different character wishing to either help, terrify, or haunt the Heart Healer.

Despite the obvious cheesiness of the storyline and lyrics, The Metal Opera maintains luster in the proficiency of the vocalists and the world-class orchestration. The songs are symphonic and dramatic yet light-hearted. On “Who Can Stand All Alone,” Cowan and Olzon’s voices tip-toe and dance around each other, anchored by a pounding pulse. As on this favorite track of mine, most of the songs give way to a melodic and unobtrusive guitar solo by Karlsson. Come for the wide array of killer vocals, and stick around for the vocals as well. Listening to so many amazing women shine on this album is pure joy.

In the first several days of 2022, I found myself waking up wondering where in the world 2021 vanished to. Here I am yet again beginning another year with my anxieties about the latest variant abounding. Despite its release back in March of 2021, The Metal Opera is still providing me with a spirited respite from all things heavy and uncertain in life.

Tracks to Check Out: “Who Can Stand All Alone,” “Evil’s Around the Corner,” “Awake”

The post Heart Healer – The Metal Opera by Magnus Karlsson [Things You Might Have Missed 2021] appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Charnel Altar paints their canvas of dread and despair with a varied palette. Early in the album, they leans into their death and black metal influences with an impenetrable wall of riffs and blast beats. Winding and slowly unfolding dissonant riffs are the harbingers of the doom to come (“Grave Totem”). By opening tracks with a blend of tremolo black and dissonant death riffs, the band crafts an overwhelming sense of foreboding, culminating in album highlight ‘Wormworld.” The two vocalists strain for space, gurgling from the depths before erupting into guttural shouts (“Vexation of Sorrow,” “Wormworld”). Without a dedicated track listing it’s difficult to discern for certain, but you sense that one of the vocalists is the growl specialist, while the other uses a not-quite-black metal bark. Regardless of where specific credit is due, the interplay between the two vocalists populates Charnel Altar’s hellscape with more tortured anguish than a single vocalist could provide.

The payoff for this blackened death cornucopia is the band’s mastery of doom. Thudding, plodding, eldritch horror is the band’s specialty, which makes it a bit of a shame that the most doom-filled elements don’t arrive until the album’s back half. Buzzing tremolo riffs aided by a wall of propulsive kick drums and toms drive the doom forward, which lets the band play much slower in sections where open chords alone would bore (“Slaughter,” “Wormworld”). While the snare sound can grate, it also occasionally serves the compositions well, with a pinging reverb acting as a distant clarion call foreshadowing an impending massacre on “Slaughter.” Together, the members of Charnel Altar are at their most horrifying when they invert their formula and open songs with doom sections, leaning almost into funeral doom territory to kick off “Malefic Blessings.”

Unfortunately, the black metal influences also prove a detriment to certain performance choices, sequencing, and production. The band is still growing as songwriters and learning to utilize dynamics, and most of the variation comes from tempo changes. While just varying tempo can work for a single hypnotic song, it’s audio Ambien over an entire album. The monotony often extends to the songwriting generally, where the members seem unsure of where they want to end up. These songs almost assuredly came out of many a haze-filled jam, but most of them just…end, often on a swift fadeout with some guitar feedback. It’s consistently an acrid, smelling-salt ending that ruins the promising atmospheric sludge stew fans want to waft (“Vexation of Sorrow,” “Slaughter”, highlight “Wormworld”). Even more problematic is an often thin black-inspired production that sounds distinctly worse than the debut EP. While the backgrounded vocals fighting for space certainly work to amplify the sense of horror, the production should let the instrumentation breathe. Instead, the snare varies from a pingy icepick to the eardrum to muddled in the mix. The production and composition issues combine to mean that the album plays much longer than its 48 minutes. That the album drags is especially disappointing since none of the tracks are by themselves inessential.

Charnel Altar’s Abatement of the Sun reveals its horrors over many a successive listen, but a couple glaring flaws may deter potential fans. For those masochists willing to put themselves through Abatement of the Sun’s slowly unfolding post-apocalyptic eclipse repeatedly, Charnel Altar has much to offer. I expect that the band’s next album could be a considerable leap forward, but for now Charnel Altar shuffles off a flawed but glorious ichor and filth-covered monstrosity.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Blood Harvest Records
Websites: charnelaltar.bandcamp.com/releases | facebook.com/charnelaltar
Releases Worldwide: December 17th, 2021

The post Charnel Altar – Abatement of the Sun Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

CMPT

Krv i Pepeo’s peaks are both captivating and memorable. The record’s most striking feature is that each of the first five songs contains a section that seized my eardrums and held on for dear life. These highlights shine in distinct ways, like the utterly simple rock-solid main theme of the title track and the high-energy riffs of “Srce od Trnja” that call to mind titans like Sacramentum. Despite a limited musical palette, CMPT paints a wide range of emotions, with “Prokletije” (sadly not a Slavic word for “projectile”) building on a melancholy guitar melody reminiscent of Fen to underpin an emotive and impactful track. The perfect encapsulation of the album’s strengths is “Vrani Pir,” which weaves together two triumphant folk-tinged melodies while using clever drum changes to add emphasis, resulting in what sounds like a black metal cover of Eluveitie (in a good way). Though these highlights take several listens to sink in, they illustrate CMPT’s talent for writing compelling music.

CMPT leans heavily on repeating a few ideas in each song, with mixed results. Tracks like “Mesecev Zub” and the slow synth-laced closer “Na Vecernjem Lahoru” cycle through toothless ideas that fail to grab my interest, let alone keep it. But even the stronger parts of Krv i Pepeo tend to overstay their welcome, with the evocative melodies on “Prokletije” growing tiresome by the end, and mammoth “Memla” resting on a handful of riffs that lumber unsatisfyingly for over seven minutes. There’s nothing inherently wrong with repetition, and CMPT does use it well at times. “Vrani Pir” and “Srce od Trnja” are four-minute tornadoes that shine despite only relying on a few simple building blocks, by virtue of their restrained lengths and the sheer force of their melodies. But despite these successes, Krv i Pepeo feels bloated and dulls many of its musical ideas through overuse.

Inconsistency in its construction also causes Krv i Pepeo to fall short of the bar set by its best moments. The record suffers from a steep drop-off in quality as it progresses, with none of the last three tracks leaving a lasting impression. This is partly due to a decline in the band’s energy; while CMPT’s attempt to diversify their sound is admirable, the elegies “Memla” and “Na Vecernjem Lahoru” aren’t evocative or gripping enough to justify their sluggishness. This induces feelings of dreadful resignation during each listen as the second half of the album approaches. Questionable mix decisions also blunt Krv i Pepeo’s impact, with the cookie-cutter vocals riding high and the thundering double-bass drumming rendering the softer backing guitar nearly inaudible at key points (“Prokletije,” “Srce od trnja”).

The folks in CMPT are clearly talented and smrt, but have a ways to go. The best parts of Krv i Pepeo are skull-crushing and mournful; with better editing and mixing, the choice cuts could make for an endlessly replayable 20-minute EP worthy of a 3.5. As it stands, it’s an entertaining but imperfect debut that rewards patience but sags under its own weight, failing to remain interesting for 40 minutes. CMPT’s brand of black metal shows promise, but Krv i Pepeo doesn’t quite deliver on it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Osmose Productions
Website: semeponoci.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: December 21st, 2021

The post CMPT – Krv i Pepeo Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

If you’ve ever trusted me, trust me now. Punch yourself in the face. Punch yourself in the fucking face! Do it! Do it, goddamn you!¹ Good, now you’re ready for Blood Red Throne’s 2021 release, Imperial Congregation. Since the band’s earlier years (some fifteen-twenty years now), a BRT album hasn’t been this pleasing. While I’ll always and forever love an album like Altered Genesis, it’s BRT’s dedication to finding a sustainable middle ground between the BRT of old and the BRT of new while ensuring you’ll need cortisone shots with each new release. Imperial Congregation is a concussive death metal from beginning to end. Each song is a grenade tossed inside a concrete bunker—each explosion ringing louder as the walls and ceiling crumble in.

But, as any Blood Red Throne fan knows, Imperial Congregation isn’t all three-to-four-minute death metal numbers that hit you and fade. There’s a uniqueness to each song, and the resulting explosion proves that each grenade has a slightly different release time and concussion. For its relative, neck-breaking simplicity, “Itika” displays some interesting, piercing guitar work that reminds me of Galder’s clever leads on Old Man’s Child’s Slaves to the World. “Transparent Existence” is more mid-paced but just as worthy of spinal breakage. The standard groove is mightily effective, but it’s the transitions and killer soloing that promote the song from run-of-the-mill to memorable. Even vocally, Imperial Congregation comes with some surprises. While Bolt’s death metal vocals are standard fare and seemingly one-dimensional, the blackened shrieks and Obituary-like performance reminds me of the good ole days of Panzerchrist.²

And it doesn’t stop there. Even the predictable back-to-back gunshots that are “Consumed Illusion” and “Hero-Antics” fill that death metal hole in my cynical heart. The best part of this duo is the bass work. Popping and gliding with impressive precision, Gunner owns “Consumed Illusion.” His basslines are unfuckwithable. His bass also lends a delicate hand to the melodic passages of “Hero-Antics.” Which is the perfect introduction to the overly melodic closer, “Zarathustra.” The closer is exactly what I wanted from Hypocrisy’s newest outing. Sadly, Worship never delivered. Not to mention this track also contains more of those oh-so-soothing Old Man’s Child leads.

All in all, I haven’t been this excited about a Blood Red Throne release in a long fucking time. If you’re new to the band, I would undoubtedly tell you to start with the back-to-back masterpieces Affiliated with the Suffering and Altered Genesis. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say you could also start with Imperial Congregation and work backward. Sure, the mid-career output might not make you a believer, but Imperial Congregation has re-established me as a BRT believer once again.

Tracks to Check Out: “Itika,” “Consumed Illusion,” and “Hero-Antics”

The post Blood Red Throne – Imperial Congregation [Things You Might Have Missed 2021] appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Lorem Ipsum

I have never heard an album quite like this. Lorem Ipsum’s style is best aligned with those of bands who take a similarly ambitious and unconstrained approach to their music; the art-crust of Anopheli or the genre-jumping screamo of Circle Cakes the Square. But they don’t sound too similar. Vivre Encore isn’t a screamo album any more than it is a chamber music album. Though it uses the tools of both, the record refuses to commit to a side, and uses its unique sound as a means to pursue a concept rather than an end in itself. The goal is not for listeners to revel in the details of the music itself but for them to empathize with the sorrowful cast of wounded who populate Vivre Encore.

Each of Vivre Encore’s songs is named after a central character grappling with a brittle body, whether their own or that of a loved one. “Sergeï” loses everything to his alcoholism, his grief binge accompanied by a twinkling melody and seasick strings, then accelerated by a racing violin. “Anne” has to face a world as indifferent to a loved one’s death as she is destroyed by it. Here, electronic percussion layers onto the band’s singing and screaming in imbricate rhythms, reflecting her alienation from the beautiful summer that this man will not live to see. Paralyzed by grief, “Andrée” wastes away regretting the past, not able to revive live again though the band scream at him to do so.

The whole thing is enrapturing. Lorem Ipsum’s arrangements are as diverse and challenging as their characters. They eschew traditional beats and phrasing of hardcore for dense, ever-changing rhythms and most often work together in intricate three-part arrangements rather than fall into place behind upfront melodies. Even though “Andree” begins with an instantly recognizable piano figure, the band are quick to twist the moonlight into something sinister, stabbing out with hair-raising violin glissandos and swiped-at guitar chords. “Didier” strolls through a lilting, quintessentially French melody before it is bucked by a tumultuous violin melody, and ends not with shouts or screams, but with a longing half-singing.

Those arrangements never tarnish as I come back to the record, and glimmer with beauty behind the tragedy of its characters. I come to grimace at Sergeï’s nauseous defeat; to feel the twinge of Bienaimé’s war scars. I stay because that personhood is embodied in the music itself. No matter the language, Vivre Encore will speak to you.

Tracks to Check Out: Andrée, Anne, Sergeï

The post Lorem Ipsum – Vivre Encore [Things You Might Have Missed 2021] appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

A torii is a Japanese gate found at the entrance to a Shinto shrine, where it marks the transition from the mundane to the sacred. True to the name they’ve chosen, the band plays a variety of spiritually yearning metal that will be familiar to fans of Yob. Masino describes the band’s sound as “post death/doom.” It can be hard to hear down here in the Skull Pit, what with all the promos playing at once and the constant screams for mercy,¹ but to my ears the “post” and “doom” elements are much more present than the “death” ones. These are sprawling, atmospheric compositions that reflect the influence of acts like Cult of Luna, Mizmor, and the early work of Torii’s fellow Arkansans Pallbearer. Masino will hook into an idea, be it a tremolo-picked riff on “The Second Renaissance” or the gentle lilt of “Persephone,” and build layers of synths and echoing lead guitars on top of that foundation. Burly sections and growled vocals co-exist with acoustic passages and (programmed) string interludes, all of it straining to be heard through a production job that mutes the impact of the songs.

A somber mood prevails on Torii, and the compositions can be powerful when the album is at its best. Numbers like “Grey Expanse” and the instrumental “Void” seem to evoke emotional states as much as they do places. You could fill a Spotify playlist with songs named “Void,” but Torii manages to contribute something new to the annals of void-dom by crafting what feels like a journey through the cloud that’s left behind after the Earth is gone. The term “Grey Expanse” is one of the better descriptions of what it’s like to live in the fog of a depressive episode that I’ve come across, and the song itself reflects that numb grind. Themes of departure and travel recur throughout, with the funereal “Eurydice” calling to mind a plodding journey whose only certain outcome is exhaustion. All the techniques, sounds, and themes heard throughout the record are woven together in closer “Torii,” which combines heavy sections that build like a Pelican song with mournful acoustic segments to make a potent final statement.²³

Unfortunately, Bill Masino the producer stomps all over Bill Masino the musician’s vision.⁴ There’s audible distortion on every track, the product of a cramped master that can’t handle all the layers of Torii’s sound. It gets rough in spots, making it feel like you’re hearing the album leaking out from the headphones of someone sitting beside you on a bus. All that straining to listen leads to fatigue as the fifty-three-minute record winds on, creating a blur out of the later sections. This comes to a head on penultimate number “Inertia,” a title that feels like an unwitting description of where the album stands at this point.

Torii struggles to stay afloat in its own sea of auteurism.⁵ I don’t want to be cruel or dismissive about the flaws that drag Torii down; for all I know, Masino is doing everything himself because that’s the only option available. However, other voices might have suggested a crucial trim here or steered the production differently there. As it is, we’re left with a record of obvious strengths and equally glaring weaknesses. Torii have plied their craft with a tenacity anyone can admire, but after seven full-length releases, Bill Masino’s brainchild still hasn’t come far enough to stand out.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-release
Website: torii.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: December 17th, 2021

The post Torii – Torii Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.