“Astronoid and I have a history. Their 2016 debut Air was one of those lightning-in-a-bottle releases that blew the doors off my early metal fandom. A delirious cocktail of shoegaze shimmer, sugar-coated harmonies, and blast-beaten bliss, it felt like nothing else at the time, and it sent me tumbling down the blackgaze rabbit hole. Add in the fact that these guys hailed from my quiet corner of New England, and I was all in.” Sugar-gazing.
“I take a seat in a cramped, rusted chair. Across from me sits a gorilla in some sort of crown and a man whose face could only be described as Abbathian. It’s time for my first performance review at AMG Headquarters, and things aren’t looking great. “Atmospheric nü metal/free jazz? German dance music? What are we, discount Pitchfork?” Druhm bellows between frustrated simian grunts. I turn towards the head honcho for mercy, but instead, he fixes me with an eldritch stare. The words don’t pass his lips—they appear directly in my skull like a psychic command: “Brutal death metal.” He hands me a grime-encrusted CD which reeks of beer and seaweed. German brutal death metal veterans Stillbirth are responsible for this fetid package, which lies before me. It’s Survival Protocol, their ninth full-length.” Surviving or thriving?
“If you’re like me, then your experience with German industrial metal largely revolves around Rammstein, the fun, if not inconsistent, institution that still somehow sells out arenas worldwide with their patented brand of simple riffs, simpler grooves, and deep-voiced German monotone “singing.” If you’re also like me, then listening to Rammstein became a lot less appealing when allegations surrounding frontman Til Lindemann arose, tainting my ability to enjoy the band. Thankfully, Germany is nothing if not efficient, and for every aging industrial Goliath there’s a newer, sleeker unit revving up on the assembly line. Erdling is one such machine, and they’ve been honing their brand of Neue Deutsche Härte since 2014.” Teutonic terrors.
“As I prowled the depths of the promo bin, preparing for my next review, a peculiar glint caught my eye. The label read, “RADIOACTIVE: FOR N00B ABUSE ONLY,” and below it, in what must have been an act of genre-tag terrorism, sat the words: nü metal/gospel/jazz. I briefly considered calling the authorities, but morbid curiosity won out. What kind of unholy chimera lurks inside something with that particular trifecta? I dusted off the cover like a bomb disposal tech, hoping the wires are color-coded. The culprit is Control Your Soul’s Desire For Freedom, the sophomore album from Danish group Heathe.” Tripping over trip wires.
“On Om Moksha Ritam, Insomniac manages to craft a sound that is immediately recognizable yet distinctly their own. They merge the progressive psychedelia of Elder with the layered, textural approach of REZN, all filtered through the Southern-gothic tinge of fellow Georgians Baroness. The result is a body of songs that draw equally from the contemplative exploration of ’70s prog, Americana-dipped blues rock, and the anthemic heft of post-metal’s sludgier, power-chord-driven moments.” Stoner for the sleepy.
“Within the sprawling cosmos of heavy metal, there are those who shy away from “cheese.” The self-serious arbiters of credibility who cannot fathom the spectacle of a Jørnlike figure, clad in frills, golden mane cascading, arms outstretched as soliloquies of passion pour forth in gloriously ESL-stained accents. Yet for those of us who have dared sail the seas of cheese, who have cast aside the brittle armor of irony, such bombast is not an embarrassment but a revelation, a childlike ecstasy born from grown men shrieking about dragons or Tolkien over galloping power chords as though their lives depended on it. It is precisely for this rapturous abandon, this embrace of the sublime absurd, that we turn to a band like Feanor.” Cheese is the new kale.
“Sometimes, you don’t need nuance. Sometimes you don’t want prog-soaked journeys through inner turmoil, or post-whatever atmospherics that whisper about pain instead of screaming it in your face. Sometimes you just want music to sound like the goddamn world is on fire. Featuring members of Without Waves and site favorites The Atlas Moth, Chicago’s Motherless might have just that with their debut Do You Feel Safe?.” Save the mothers.
“It’s always interesting to follow a band’s career arc through AMG reviews. The last time Lotan appeared in the hallowed halls of this fine site was in 2023, when my superior Thus Spoke took a righteous hammer to their debut. She found the Danish band’s take on the “trvest of stvles” underwhelming—citing unfocused black metal stylings, monotonous pacing, and lackluster production as key shortcomings. Now, Lotan is back with Yetzer Hara, a slab of blackened death inspired by Cain and Abel, with the intent to explore and embody “the destructive urges that define Humanity’s fall from grace.” Can Lotan surpass their debut and carve a name for themselves on the black/death pantheon’s gnarled mural?” Lotan clan.
Vertebra is a Brazilian act that formed in the mid-‘90s, disbanded before releasing a debut, and has now re-emerged from the sands of time with a mission to finally finish what they started. Their long-overdue debut, The Same, promises a slab of progressive death/thrash which balances “raw edges” with “melodic awareness” in a way that “defies the passage of time.” Can these reunited rockers craft a collection of tunes that innovates and stands alongside their clear inspiration?
“Named after the Incan goddess of the moon, Mama Killa promises ‘eight tracks of high-volume, riff-based guitar-violin improvisation bolstered by thunderous drumming.’ Can this newly formed power trio avoid the common pitfalls of experimental music and deliver over 50 minutes of compelling, instrumental free jazz?” This is called “n00bing on hard mode.”
