Any fear that I was in for some weepy post-metalcore with nasally cleans disappeared as the d-beat drums and beatdown riffs of first advance single “Jernbur” filled my Heavys. This is tough guy hardcore, but without the cocky barked vocals of most bands I’d categorize that way. Instead, vocalist Hallgeir Skretting Enokssen has an enviable harsh delivery for both gang-shouts and the death growls he frequently slips into across Primal Pulse Thunder’s nine songs. In fact, hardcore may be the structure of Purified in Blood’s sound, but melodeath is the cladding. The style pops up all over, from the tremolo sprint in the otherwise knuckle-dragging title track, to the bridge in “Key and Stone,” to the the harmonized chorus in “Jernbur.” While the band started as hardcore (sorry) proponents of the straightedge ethos, resembling Earth Crisis in philosophy and in sound , the remaining members have since dropped the overt social politics of it lyrically. Instead, there’s a lot of rumination on transcending a world on fire, and no small amount of chest-thumping declarations.

There are significant strengths to discuss on Primal Pulse Thunder, but the most impressive is how hardcore and death metal serve each other as the band deftly blend or switch between the styles. The title track is a great case in point. Before listening to a single note, I read the album’s title and thought “that sounds stupid.” Those three words in that combination came across as try-hard toughness. But by packaging those words in a perfect blend of dummy caveman death riffs and slowed-down beatdown, the song has me wanting to see it played live so I can join in shouting “PRIMAL! PULSE! THUNDER!” And then there’s that late tremolo riff that packs tons of Amon Amarth swagger into the song as Enokssen roars “I refuse to be killed! Set fire to everything!” Purified in Blood know exactly what each of their two main styles are for, and they deliver several choice cuts of monstrously heavy metalcore.

That’s not to say Primal Pulse Thunder is a world beating record. It’s long for as much hardcore as it has at 50 minutes, and there is definitely bloat that wouldn’t be missed if it were cut. The two song stretch of “Ascend to Nothing” and “Spiritual Thirst” is where that trouble begins. The first of these is actually a welcome slow down after the white hot intensity of the tracks up until that point, with a nice mid-paced groove that helps the record breath. Unfortunately it’s followed by an even slower, more experimental song. “Spiritual Thirst” is the low point of the album, starting with un-asked for throat singing, stick clicking, and riff development that feels out of place among the otherwise tight writing. At nearly eight minutes, it’s also the second longest song on the album. The longest, 11 and a half minute closer “Portal,” fits the album much better, but it’s fair to say a song like standout “Jernbur” does everything “Portal” does, but in almost a third of the time.

Relatively minor bloat issues aside, Primal Pulse Thunder is a three word phrase that, despite it’s awkwardness on the page, now conjures for me the sweaty basement shows and the live-wire energy I experienced as a 20 year old. I remember friends at the time telling me “You can’t listen to this kind of music forever.” Oh, can’t I?

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Indie Recordings
Websites: purifiedinblood.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/purifiedinblood
Releases Worldwide: March 14th, 2025

The post Purified in Blood – Primal Pulse Thunder Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

The black metal found on Temple of Serpent Whores is a far cry from the raw black metal I just covered a week or two ago, as well as less melodic than Seth. This is a well-produced, death metal-tinged full-frontal assault led by Alsvid’s unrelenting kit abuse. That’s not to say guitarists Thavsael and Seremoth are left in the lurch; they keep up fine with the percussive pace setting. It’s just that in spite of their aggressive riffing and occasional solos, this is not a guitar-oriented record. If anything, it’s about building a cumulative, ruinous cacophony of breakneck-paced extreme metal to knock the New Year’s cobwebs from our collective brains and strip paint from any nearby furniture. Saint Vincent’s vocals are a bit shoutier than your average blackened rasps, contributing to Goatlord Corp.’s militant sound. He sprinkles in some gang shouts (the title track) and other affectations, like the guttural chant/laugh in “Strangulation Squad” for variety.

Easily the main draw of Temple of Serpent Whores is the unbridled hostility, but it’s the solid musicianship and well-placed flourishes that will keep listeners coming back to it. Subtle melodic undercurrents begin to emerge in third track “Iron Fire Cum” which carries through to closer “New World Preacher (9mm Of Philosophy),” which is the only track that slows to mid-tempo, but which also includes the heaviest chugging riff of the album two-thirds of the way through. The guitar solo in “Strangulation Squad” adds a touch of classical drama to the ugly proceedings, but I’m more impressed with the subtly urgent guitar wailings that zhuzh up the later half of “AR-15 Romance.”¹ I mentioned Saint Vincent’s vocal affectations above, and my favorite comes in “World Wide Civil War” when, seemingly out of nowhere, he deadpans “I drink their blood.”

If there’s a drawback to crafting an unrelenting, aggressive sound, it’s uniformity. I focus on the details and flourishes because without them, a lot of this material runs together. Opener “Slave Diciplin” (sic) and the following title track establish Goatlord Corp.’s frenzied ethos, but latching onto them as repeatable songs is harder than it is in the album’s spicy mid-section. Likewise, “Glockdown” strays into generic territory before the thundering “Worldwide Civil War” regains your attention. Thankfully, the band have the good sense to keep their noisome tirade to 35 minutes in total, helping minimize the homogeneity issue.

Temple of Serpent Whores is about as aggressive as black metal gets, and it’s a solid record to get the blood pumping for an uncertain 2025. “Iron Fire Cum,” “Strangulation Squad,” or “AR-15 Romance” would all make fine additions to my Songs for a Vampire Race Car Driver playlist, or any hard-charging set of songs you may keep for when you need a pick-me-up. At 35 minutes, it’s an easy time investment, so give it a spin.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nomad Snakepit Productions
Website: linktree.Goatlord_Corp
Releases Worldwide: January 19th, 2025

The post Goatlord Corp. – Temple of Serpent Whores Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

There are two types of people in this world: those who appreciate raw black metal, and those who live fulfilling lives with friends and careers and family who speak to them at holiday gatherings. Since the advent of Bandcamp, the kvltest of all metal genres has become infinitely more accessible. Every year I wade through acres of tape hiss and tinny treble, looking for the half dozen or so raw black releases that rise above the buzzing tangle of cobwebs to rarified, putrid air. The following represent a cross-section of the seemingly infinite number of corpse-painted weirdos in basements the world over making music with no hope of even the smallest commercial success. This is for the fans, like me, as well as the curious. And if anyone in the comments says “This would be pretty good if the production wasn’t so shitty,” I swear on Quorthon’s grave I’ll craft a 1920’s flapper fringe dress out of strips of raw bacon, show up to your niece’s bat mitzvah, and shake my money maker on the dance floor. The shitty production is the point.

Conifère // L’Imp​ô​t du Sang – Let me get this out of the way: this is much less raw production-wise than a lot of raw black metal, but it’s my piece and I decide what goes in it. Besides, look at that shitty cassette tape cover art. See? Lo-fi. Montreal’s Conifère play the kind of Québécois melodic black metal their stomping grounds are well known for, but they run it through with punk undertones and rollicking black’n’roll. Their main goal on L’Imp​ô​t du Sang is packing as many blazing riffs into 31 minutes as possible. After spinning this taut little meloblack gem over and over, I’d say they’re lucky the seams haven’t blown out completely.

Hekseblad // Kaer Morhen – For those of you looking for that contemporary black metal album that captures the gloomy piss and vinegar of the 2nd wave 90s heyday, Kaer Morhen awaits. With lyrical themes set in the world of The Witcher, also a product of the 90s, Hekseblad owe much of their sound to the likes of Emperor and Gorgoroth. It’s not quite all pastiche, however, as the old-timey piano waltz segment of “A Grain of Truth (Nivellin’s Waltz)” and the organ grinder/harpsicord-ish melodies in “The White Flame” and at the end of the title track help throw the band’s serrated riff-craft into sharper relief. Closer “Vatt’ghern” even wanders through a stretch of atmospherics before bringing the record to a triumphant close.

Keys to the Astral Gate and Mystic Doors // Keys to the Astral Gate and Mystic Doors II – This is the stuff here. Raw black metal. Look at those two weirdos standing on a pile of snowy rocks in a Wisconsin winter, holding swords, while their buddy takes a picture with their phone. Look at the OCD doodle for a logo. Listen to that production. Doesn’t matter if I listen to it on my expensive headphones or on an answering machine from 1993, it sounds exactly the same. That said, unlike so many of their self-serious peers, Keys to the Astral Gate and Mystic Doors are downright gleeful, not only in their melodic riffage, but in their presentation. Not to mention the closer to this their second demo/EP, “What Is the Glimmer ‘Top the Looming Castle Bell” has an infectious jangle-rock structure that hints at evolutions to come.

Lander // Heroic Lands – Most of the bands here were on my radar before their respective releases, but Lander crashed this list out of nowhere, making it my favorite raw black find of the year. This Seattle based, two-person, war themed project has a mean streak the other entries don’t; heavy, knuckle-dragging riffs mixed among the triumphant Viking metal melodies and tastefully restrained synths. With a dedicated drummer in Krieger, a rarity in raw black projects, Lander boast a more organic sound than many of their genre counterparts. On the same day Wergild Records released this EP on cassette, they also released the band’s first full length—10 whole minutes longer in run time—Boreal Tactics. While I also recommend visiting that release, it’s Heroic Lands that hit me hardest.

Nimbifir // Der b​ö​se Geist – I’ve been waiting quite a while to put Nimbifir on one of these lists. Five years ago, I was just getting into raw black metal when I discovered their first two demos and four-way split Ruins of Humanity. Something about these Germans’ hard charging songs and exultant riffs stuck in my craw. I had to wait until 2024 for their debut full length Der b​ö​se Geist, and thankfully it did not disappoint. There’s no one song that rises above the others, so it’s best to take this record all in one sitting. Easy enough since it’s a brisk 36 minutes front to back. There’s an ebb and flow to each song and to the album composition as a whole that gives the impression of a battle, desperate in places, epic in others, with an almost cinematic sweep that keeps you riveted.

Vampiric Coffin/Enshroud // Reek of a Thousand Graves – This wouldn’t be a decent raw black metal list without a Grime Stone Records release, and for the second year in a row, it’s Vampiric Coffin leading the charge, with Enshroud covering their six. Count Jeffery the Vampire contributed to two splits on Grime Stone this year, and his new batch of the combined 11 songs are the same thrashy, punky, raw blacky, infectious as MRSA ditties he’s come to be known for. Reek of a Thousand Graves gets the nod over his split with 1692 AD thanks to Carmilla Dracul and Ysbryd of Enshroud and their ability to craft a complimentary set of dungeon synth infused black metal songs that never forget to be vicious on top of lugubrious.

Wraithlord // Phantasmal Warfare – If Wraithlord’s 2022 full length Dawn of Sorrow had been released any time before or after December 22nd, it would have made my ’22 or ’23 list. It got lost in the shuffle of the holidays, as all releases do around that time, which is probably why the kvltest of the kvlt like to release around then. Thankfully, the June release of Phantasmal Warfare gave me plenty of time to acquaint myself with another quality release by this one-man Flint, Michigan project. M, the mono-consonant moniker of Wraithlord’s brainchild, has a knack for stringing together riffs and transitions that don’t end up in the places you expect them to. This is easily the longest release in this feature at 48 minutes, but it suspends time by pulling you into its own twisted internal logic.

The post Cherd’s Raw Black Metal Muster [Things You Might Have Missed 2024] appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

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 Canadians 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

The post Contrite Metal Guy: It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Wrongness, Volume the Second appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

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

The post Contrite Metal Guy: It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Wrongness, Volume the First appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

The Constant Strain of Life is, in our dichotomy, drawing. Weep’s lone member, Cerastes, runs post-punk and shoegaze through a raw black metal filter but without the raw part. Comparisons can be made to fellow Minnesota bands Ashbringer or Wishfield, but this is a much more stripped-down, straightforward affair. How stripped down? If you had told me this was a demo, I wouldn’t have batted an eye. There are a few points of stylistic variation, like “Coffin Varnish,” which leans into doom tempos and solemnity, while “Desaturated Soul,” commits completely to shoegaze. One gets the idea that Cerastes has listened to a fair bit of screamo, but thankfully that influence on Weep is more residual than overt. The Constant Strain of Life spends the vast majority of its time squarely in that “post-black” space.

Cerastes’ “just the facts, ma’am” style contributes to both the album’s charm and its weaknesses. Production-wise, each instrument sits side by side with the others rather than combines with them. One can almost see every note played floating in space. This works fine on songs like the two that open the album. “Late Autumn” and “Must We Continue” both rely on buoyant indie rock guitar lines played over blackened rhythms to give them an immediate hook. When heft and urgency are needed, however, that space between elements becomes an issue. Take the title track. Once the song kicks into third gear and the chugging guitar riff starts at the 1:30 mark, it’s all too sparse a sound to convey the weight Weep is going for. It doesn’t do enough to raise the intensity, so the breakdown that follows also fails to land. This happens again with “The Sour Scent of Ozone,” as the chugging riff over the programmed drum d-beat comes off as flat-footed rather than energetic. More experimentation with the guitar tone could have potentially helped this. The tone, and indeed the riff, feel too stock-standard.

The issue of seemingly stock riffs emerges elsewhere, from “Late Autumn” to “Coffin Varnish” and “This is the End,” adding to the demo-like quality mentioned above. There are plenty of times listening to The Constant Strain of Life when I wonder why Cerates didn’t just commit to true raw black metal. It wouldn’t fix some of the writing issues, but it would imbue texture and atmosphere that the record could seriously benefit from. The Constant Strain of Life is best when it splits the poles between stark post-punk and black metal. “Must We Continue” is an early highlight and an example of the simple riffs coming off as effortless rather than uninspired. The strongest run starts with the one true shoegaze song “Desaturated Soul” and ends with another post-punk leaning song in album closer “Choosing to Live.” The clean vocals on “Desaturated Soul” are pitch-perfect for the style and I wish Weep would incorporate them more often for contrast and variety.

The Constant Strain of Life may be drawing in our drawing/painting dichotomy, but it alternates between drawing-as-finished-piece and sketchbook entries. Stark, blackened post-punk suits Cerates wonderfully, but more layers and color are needed when Weep reaches for bigger emotional payoffs, or when raging speed is required. There’s some good playlist material here, but as a full-length album, it could use some more time on the easel.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Website: weep.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: October 25th, 2024

The post Weep – The Constant Strain of Life Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

So how do the new members affect Funeral’s sound on Gospel of Bones? We’ll go from least to most impactful. It’s not quite fair to say that new guitarist Stian Kråbøl is a plug-and-play option since he’s obviously skilled at laying down a big doom riff, but Funeral have always had those, and Anders Eek is the main songwriter these days. Strings specialist Sareeta (Ingvild Strønen Kaare) has a much larger impact, as she alternates between violins and the traditional Norwegian Hardanger Fiddle, heard in cuts like “Procession of Misery.” Where the band may have relied on programmed symphonic elements in the past, Sareeta now fills songs out with live string tones ranging from warm to strident. This would be a significant enough change, but we haven’t discussed new vocalist Eirik P. Krokfjord. First, look at what a pleasant, eager looking fellow he is. If you hit play on the embed already, you’re probably trying to reconcile that cherubic visage with the bass-range operatic singing that marks a massive shift in sound from the last Funeral record. Between Krokfjord’s vibrato, Sareeta’s strings, and the complete absence of death growls, Gospel of Bones drops all remainder of death doom in favor of gothic classicism, like a cross between My Dying Bride and Candlemass.

Assuming you’re already down with gothic funeral doom in general, how much you take to Gospel of Bones will rely completely on your reaction to Krokfjord. In spite of my usual aversion to cheese in metal, I find it works. Funeral have always been good at pulling drama out of slow tempos, and when the riffs, violins and Krokfjord’s operatic flair are firing on all cylinders, as they are on opener “Too Young to Die” or “My Own Grave,” the results are Wagnerian. This drama is amplified on the few occasions when Kråbøl is allowed to cut loose with upbeat riffing (“These Rusty Nails”) and soloing (“Når Kisten Senkes”). Altogether, Eek has assembled a band and sound that helps set Funeral apart from the increasingly crowded field of doom metal in a similar way to how Tragedies stuck out in the mid-nineties.

That said, 67 minutes is a lot of operatic singing to digest. Krokfjord obviously has range beyond his bass bellowing, but he rarely uses it. By the time “To Break All Hearts of Men” and closer “Three Dead Men” roll around, with Krokfjord singing in a detached, straightforward style, it seems oddly late in the game to introduce variation. Way back in the opener, Sareeta sings counter-melody on “Too Young to Die.” It works nicely, and I’m not sure why they don’t use it more. There are also a couple moments when the singing strays past dramatic and into silly, like the overpronunciations on “Procession of Misery.” Suddenly Krokfjord sounds less Wagnerian and more like monastic singing when Brother Johan forgets that being fancy is sinful and gets a little carried away. Gospel of Bones is stylistically concentrated. Enough so that it took me several listens to realize nothing, in particular, stands out from a songwriting perspective. There are no bad songs, but nothing here is so well written that it transcends the overall sound.

As with most off-kilter vocal choices, Krokfjord’s contributions to Funeral’s seventh full-length will likely make or break one’s enjoyment of it. For the most part, they work for me, and the interplay between heavy riffs and Sareeta’s lovely violin and fiddle playing is a treat throughout Gospel of Bones. It’s all just on the edge of being too much style over substance, but I can foresee occasions when this will scratch a specific itch.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: funeraldoom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/funeralnorway
Releases Worldwide: October 18th, 2024

The post Funeral – Gospel of Bones Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

For the uninitiated, Chat Pile draw their sound from the darker, weirder corners of the 90s. Over their first EPs, it would be fair to say they were a mix of The Jesus Lizard and Deadguy with Korn riffs smattered on top. God’s Country saw them get heavier and angrier, with a sludgy heft adding to their sound and lyrics laser-focused on Middle American misery. Cool World is their heaviest work to date and continues to draw from 90s noise and post-hardcore. The first time I heard lead single “Masc,” I noted the influence of Helmet. Meanwhile, cuts like “The New World” channel Red Medicine era Fugazi. There’s a more uniform sound across the album than on previous outings, one that relies on sustained rhythmic grooves and repetition. If you’re familiar with God’s Country, it’s like they dedicated the better part of Cool World to what they were doing on “Slaughterhouse.” There’s also a subtle commitment to melody and despondent vocal harmonies that cut through the harshness on songs like “Shame” and “Milk of Human Kindness.”

Cool World’s focus on hypnotic, oily grooves combined with vocalist Raygun Busch’s shell-shocked talk-singing and raging shouts pays huge dividends if you like your noise metal gnarly and apoplectic. The best material comes in the form of two song couplets, the first being “Frownland”/”Funny Man,” and the second “The New World”/”Masc.” As “Frownland” demonstrates, the punch in these songs comes partly from scraping slabs of ugly bass courtesy of four-string slinger Stin and from a production job that gives Cap’n Ron’s drums plenty of low-end. Then there’s Busch’s reliably unhinged delivery of lines like “Big world, small change, outside there’s no mercy and not everyone can hide” from “Funny Man.” It’s the kind of delivery that lets you know there’s no mercy inside, either. “The New World” finds Chat Pile firing on all cylinders as Busch shrieks “Most are dragged kicking and screaming out into the new world.” It’s the ugliest, heaviest, and best song the band has ever written. By following this with the much more melodic but no less cynical “Masc,” Cool World gives us the best one-two punch you could ask for. Busch’s lyrics have moved from the micro to the macro of human suffering, and the shift to bigger rhythms and harder grooves supports this well.

This, however, means some of the idiosyncrasies that have served Chat Pile well over the years are missing. It’s all as bleak and off-kilter as ever, but there are no truly weird left-field detours here like the humorous “Rainbow Meat” or the starkly disturbing “Dallas Beltway” from the EPs or the humorous and starkly disturbing “grimace_smoking_weed.jpg” from God’s Country. The variety in Cool World comes mostly from the melodic tracks “Shame,” “Masc,” and the gloomy “Milk of Human Kindness.” There’s even a death metal vocals segment late in “Shame” that gets the blood pumping, but I miss the songs that make you go “What did I just listen to?” This could of course mean the band will widen their audience with Cool World, since a song like “Why?” proved divisive in the past. Cool World is a really good record, but for the first time, it sounds like a record some other band could have made.

I won’t be making Cool World my Album of the Year, but it’s certainly very good and I’ll probably play it to death in the next few months. It has the best two songs the band have written so far and finds Chat Pile maturing into a sound full of gnarly grooves. That said, a touch of the old overt weirdness and humor would go a long way on such a dark record. Is all this enough to save me from another month in The Hole? I don’t know, but if I disappear for a while, you’ll know why.¹

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: The Flenser
Websites: chatpile.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/chatpileband
Releases Worldwide: October 11th, 2024

The post Chat Pile – Cool World Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Glacial Tomb’s brand of death on Lightless Expanse is brutal, somewhat blackened, sludgy, and sometimes toes the line just this side of tech death. The black comes mostly from vocalist Ben Hutcherson’s delivery, which falls into the now-standard contemporary death metal trope of half brontosaurus rumbles, half pterodactyl shrieks, but tremolo riffs also crop up, as on “Worldsflesh.” The sludge comes through in the viscosity of guitar tone built between Hutcherson and bassist David Small (both also of Khemmis), but there are also times, such as the midsection of “Voidwomb” and late in “Abyssal Host” when the band will drop their more technical death metal chops to fully embrace sludge metal structures. Songs like the excellent “Enshrined in Concrete” lean so hard this way they end up in beatdown hardcore territory. Lightless Expanse will at times call to mind Carnosus (“Stygian Abattoir,” “Seraphic Mutilation”), at others Warcrab (“Abyssal Host”), but ultimately they bring their own flavor to the ever-branching death-metal-plus genre.

Lightless Expanse is a record that gets better the more you marinate in it. That doesn’t mean it lacks immediacy. The surefire gym playlist addition “Enshrined in Concrete” struck me hard on first listen and has quickly climbed up my favorite songs of 2024 list. Meanwhile, opener “Stygian Abattoir” had to grow on me. Not because it’s a bad song, but because the three that follow it are so good that it’s hard to imagine making that the intro to the album. This is an album with two huge peaks surrounded by thankfully shallow valleys. The first peak, from the stomping “Voidwomb” to the deceptively melodic “Abyssal Host,” is tall enough to be littered with the corpses of those arrogant enough to attempt the summit. It’s a world-beating three-song stretch of brutality and tasteful songwriting. The second peak runs from the majestic “Seraphic Mutilation” to “Worldsflesh,” a song built for headbanging sure to get necks wrecked when played live, to “Wound of Existence.”

I mentioned above that opener “Stygian Abattoir” had to grow on me a bit, and the same can be said for the closing title track. It’s less immediate than the considerable high points elsewhere on Lightless Expanse, but Glacial Tomb were ultimately smart putting it last because it ends on a soaring guitar solo and breakdown that could have been the album’s pinnacle if sequenced in the middle. Instead, it closes the proceedings in a way that leaves you wanting more and helps you realize that the last 36 minutes have been spent in a very agreeable manner. If there’s one song that doesn’t quite live up to the standards set around it, it’s the album midpoint “Sanctuary,” but even that contains a memorable bass solo, and when played in sequence barely registers as a speed bump in an otherwise hard charging record.

I haven’t gone back to listen to Glacial Tomb’s debut, so I’ll trust Dr. Wvrm’s assessment that it had its issues with integrating multiple genres and with songwriting. Whatever those might have been, I’d say they’ve thoroughly come out in the wash on their follow-up. This is a gem of brutality that I’ll be revisiting frequently, and another win for the Denver metal scene.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: glacialtomb.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/glacialtomb
Releases Worldwide: September 20th, 2024

The post Glacial Tomb – Lightless Expanse Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Demiser are a metal throwback in spirit: hard drinking, fast playing, “Fuck yeah/you!” attitude. They’re a throwback in sound too, in that way only newer bands blend a bunch of throwback sounds into a sticky paste of pastiche. This is blackened thrash with a deep vein of NWOBHM combining the likes of Overkill, Motörhead, and Gorgoroth. “Feast” kicks things off with a very “Painkiller”-esque drum intro followed by sinister riffage and lightning-fast fret-work. It sets a blazing pace that rarely lets up over the next 40 minutes of vicious axe-wielding (Gravepisser, Phallomancer, and Defiler) and machine gun time-keeping (Infestor) while Demiser the Demiser holds court with his blackened shouts. Lyrical themes are mostly of the blasphemous variety, with memorable declarations of damned-ness in “Feast” (“All! Hell! Now! Opens wide!”), “Hell is Full of Fire,” and “In Nomine Baphomet,” but they do take a break from hailing Satan to talk about driving motorcycles real fast in the delightful “Carbureted Speed.”

All this results in a comfort food metal album that’s more fun than a Hell themed roller coaster with dangerously loose safety bars. I defy any metalhead, regardless of sub-genre preference, to keep their figurative pants on when the guitar solos hit in “Feast” or to keep their invisible fruit in their pockets when Demiser the Demiser declares “Hell! Is Full! Of Fire!” Slave to the Scythe is best when it keeps the gas pushed all the way to road pavement, which it does a lot, but the addition of a foot-stomping bop and some surprising melodicism elevates “Phallomancer the Phallomancer” to the position of album highlight. After the debut included the memorable “Demiser the Demiser,” the next record better give Gravepisser and Defiler their own eponymous ditties or else feelings are going to get hurt.

My issues with Slave to the Scythe are all relatively minor. When played front to back, the title track falls a little flat compared to the two rip snorters that sandwich it. As for the acoustic interlude, it’s nice enough and it adds to the 80s thrash vibe, but I quickly began skipping it after the second spin or so. The record is in no way overstuffed at a blazing 40 minutes, but final track “In Nomine Baphomet” stands out for being 8 minutes long, and it does go a bit mushy in the middle of that run time. Thankfully, these moments do little to detract from a record where even second-tier tracks like “Total Demise” or “Infernal Bust” have stank-face riffs and drive-it-like-it’s-stolen energy.

Demiser are a band who know who they are. They aren’t reinventing the wheel, but they are putting it on the front of a motorcycle and driving it recklessly. If you were a fan of their rollicking debut Through the Gate Eternal, you’ll get more of the same breakneck goodness on Slave to the Scythe. Given the talent involved here, I expect they’ll just keep churning out albums of sack-whipping blackened thrash for years to come.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: demiser.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/demiserofficial
Releases Worldwide: August 23rd, 2024

The post Demiser – Slave to the Scythe Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.