While No Peace manifests many upgrades from their (admittedly good) debut, the biggest win might be that No/Más firmly institutes their identity. The change isn’t drastic, and No Peace is a natural progression from Consume/Deny/Repent, but the sophisticated onslaught supplied on this sophomore sweep oozes with sneering confidence. Following in the footsteps of Nails, No/Más balances grindcore, death metal, and hardcore/crust tendencies with playful intelligence, weaving together Full of Hell’s caustic bite, Napalm Death’s thuggish simplicity, and Jungle Rot’s warped melodicism into a densely packed third of an hour. And if those touchstones aren’t enough, No/Más unleashes Sepultura-informed grooves and a slow leak of Pro-Pain into their secret sauce. Not to fret, though, because despite all the influences, No Peace presents as a unified vision, and one that will rouse languid listeners into a frothing fancy.

No/Más’ instrumentation on No Peace sets a high bar with energetic performances, snapping necks with whiplash-inducing riffs and a license to thrill. Joe Vasta’s bass bounces and chugs with in-your-face rumbles throughout No Peace (“Abolition,” “Cycle of Sacrifice”), wielding a thick, surly tone that’ll rabbit punch you into head-banging if you’re standing still. Drummer Henry Everitt wallops the skins hard enough to rattle your ear bones, battering with furious fills (“Abolition”) and dropping to half-time backbeats (“No Peace”) as songs demand. It’s not all about the beatdowns, though, as No/Más injects a welcome helping of melody into No Peace. John Letzkus’ guitar slices through the faff to drench the album in a satisfyingly saturated buzz (“Act of Killing,” “Spineless”), though he also takes the reins and dazzles with efficient, arpeggiated leads (“Leech”) that I wish appeared more. Vocalist Roger Rivadeneira rounds out the quartet, shouting, growling, and screeching in a varied attack that demonstrates a willingness to experiment that was largely absent from Consume/Deny/Repent. In total, No/Más fires on all cylinders throughout No Peace, and never gives you a moment to come up for air.

With only twenty-two minutes on tap, No/Más leaves no room for inessential slop. And besides the half-minute intro flush with wall-of-sound static and indistinct yelling, they wildly succeed. As you’d expect from any decent grindy endeavor, no song pushes past its distilled essence, staying just long enough to rip and bludgeon before getting the fuck out of the way for the next track to exact its toll. No song eclipses the three-minute mark, and each exudes a rabid savagery that seethes with conviction. Additionally, No Peace sounds great—sure, the dynamic range scores low, but it’s exactly how this brand of overstimulating ass-kicking should sound. It’s well-mixed, abrasive, and highlights the rhythm section without sacrificing the sparse six-string fortitude. I wish there were a few more songs like “Leech,” partly because No/Más excels with the tunefulness, but also because I think it would address the biggest opportunity with No Peace—the compact composition allows little room for songs to establish unique flavors, leaving them to sometimes blur together. In the end, though, this is only a minor quibble, and there are many great moments to appreciate.

No/Más hasn’t redefined the DNA of deathgrind with No Peace, but they have contributed a worthy addition to its annals. Corrosive, pummeling bangers streamlined with minimal frills sum up to a blistering platter I’ve quite enjoyed. While I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing No/Más live, this crew boasts the hallmarks of a band that whips a crowd into a frenzy and ends with a broken bone or missing tooth. With twelve tracks running so lean, No Peace is helplessly easy to spin again and again. If they keep pumping out tunes this good, I can’t wait for what comes next. No más? No. Más.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Redefining Darkness Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026

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Inhuman Condition

Eschewing technicality and bouts of blistering speed, Inhuman Condition remain flagbearers of groovily mid-paced, thrashy death metal. Having simmered for a few years, however, Mind Trap feels fully cooked, more akin to Rat°God than Fearsick as Inhuman Condition further distance themselves from overt Massacre clone-ialism. Suffused with a renewed sense of immediacy, Nordberg’s re-energized guitar work features plenty of Rozz dives into the whammy pool (“Severely Lifeless,” “GodShip”), as well as serpentine solos and a multitude of chuggy-chunk riffs (“Chaos Engine,” “Obscurer”). His Royal Bassist, Terry Butler, continues to lay down a fat-bottomed low end that adds weight to Nordberg’s muscular machinations and hangs meatily on the hooks of Kling’s pounderous drumming, whose vocals, too, hit that brutal yet discernible sweet spot. For Inhuman Condition, simple is as simple does, and though Mind Trap adheres smashingly to the groovy, cavemanic formula perpetuated by the likes of Six Feet Under and Jungle Rot, it’s got the legs to outrun the pack.

Mind Trap‘s thirty-one-minute runtime whisks you along faster than an In-N-Out Burger drive-thru and is full of bite-size death metal bits, most of them sirloin, but some filet mignon. One such morsel, lyrically penned by Cannibal Corpse‘s Paul Mazurkiewicz,² and an album highlight, “Face for Later” is a viscerally speedy and satisfying death metal romp with up-tempo riffs, crazed solo work, and a chorus that will earworm its way in and haunt your corrupted brain. Also of note are the grower, not show-er riffs and quirky tempos of “The Betterment Plan,” which improved for me with repeated listens, and the mildly atmospheric “Recollections of the Future,” sporting a “King Con”-ic intro and guest vocals from Jonas Kjellgren (Carnal Forge, Scar Symmetry). Intact since inception, this stalwart lineup has defied its Massacred beginnings through sustained continuity. Mind Trap reflects an Inhuman Condition stepping further into their own, and more importantly, back in a positive direction.

Inhuman Condition once again took up arms and recorded at Smoke & Mirrors Productions, with Kling’s mix and Nordberg’s master suffusing Mind Trap in a rich warmth that gives every meaty riff, beefy bass line, and brawny beat the space needed to thrive. Yet, even excellent production cannot overcome limp songwriting, and not all the tracks on Mind Trap stand out. With its doomy, Sabbathian trilled intro and straightforwardly speedy and boring midsection, “Mind | Tool | Weapon” did nothing to rouse my fist to pump or my head to bob. Then, the awkward riffs and sloppy guitar runs of “Science of Discontent” came across as amateurish and were not only a poor way to conclude the album but also an example of the material’s inferiority.

Unlike Gruesome, who are happy to release quality albums that mimic their influences, Inhuman Condition continues to stitch a unique niche in the tapestry of OSDM and, in doing so, leave their Massacre ties further behind. Mind Trap is a fun, not too serious, attention-deficit-friendly death metal album that further exemplifies Inhuman Conditions growing coalescence. Among this trio’s other projects, of which Obituary (Butler), Deicide (Nordberg), and Goregäng (Nordberg and Kling) are just a few, it seems these guys genuinely enjoy playing together as Inhuman Condition. Mind Trap‘s got plenty to sink your teeth into, and I’m sure songs like “Face for Later” and “Obscurer” will go over well in a live setting. I was glad to hear Inhuman Condition returned to form here, and I would recommend you give Mind Trap a few spins this summer yourself.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records (Europe)
Websites: Bandcamp | InhumanCondition.com | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

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The band do a lot of things right this time out. The album is a concise 44 minutes and songs all sit in a tight 3-5 minute window. Opener “We Rise We Fall” sets the template for what most of the album delivers —bruising, thrashy death with a nasty attitude and a big bat. As the riffs cascade, lock into heavy grooves and pulp your melon, you may be reminded of the salad days of Malevolent Creation. Some of the riffs venture into Morbid Angel territory and Dave Gregor’s death roars have a vague similarity to David Vincent. This is death metal for the old-school set and it’s effective and endearingly thuggish. Quality brutality keeps coming with the extra heavy crushitude of “The End of Reason,” and the romp and curb stomp of “Painful Conflict” smacks of recent Vomitory, which is a good thing indeed.

Track after track showcases Morta Skuld in the best possible light, leading with their strengths while hiding any glaring shortcomings. Later album cuts like “Perfect Prey” and “Soul Piercing Sorrow” bring the hammers to the poser hammering festival, with faint whiffs of Suffocation cropping up here and there to choke the weak. It isn’t until penultimate cut “Oblivion” that their steady hand starts to slip. It’s not even that the song is all that bad. It’s just less on point and skull-shaking than its peer group and it drags on too long. Closer “By Design” is better, but its doomy plod eventually sends my attention span on a beer run despite the Azagthoth-adjacent riffage. The combination of these lesser tracks causes Creation Undone to end on its backfoot rather than attacking with raging wiolence. Drop these two numbers and the album jumps from good to very good quite easily.

Creation Undone benefits greatly from the rock-solid riffery by Dave Gregor and Scott Willecke. Gregor’s been there since the beginning, and newer axe Willecke is a great counterpoint. Most tracks are fueled by pile-driving, bone-crushing leads and powerful grooves that will shake you around like a Dollar Store scarecrow. I can listen to the first 8 tracks and find any number of beefy chugs and phat grooves I appreciate and applaud. They aren’t doing anything the least bit new or innovative, just smoking your ass with vintage death tropes done well and heavily. Meanwhile, Gregor roars at you like a roid-raging psycho and former Jungle Rot skinsman Eric House takes you to the house with a brutal rampage behind the kit. And that makes sense because some of this stuff isn’t all that removed from what those long-running death groove cretins do.

Morta Skuld may never pull themselves up into the upper echelons of the death metal scene, but if they keep churning out stuff like this, I’ll happily consume it in mass quantities and ask for MOAR. Creation Undone pushes no envelopes, gives nothing back to the academic community, and provides no public service of any kind save kicking ass. The high points are quite high and only a few slips toward the end keep this from a better rating. Never let the perfect be the enemy of the good, so give this an obnoxiously loud sample. Rib-cracking fun lurks within.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Peaceville
Website: facebook.com/mortaskuld
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

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Too late! After a requisite creepy intro, the grand flattening begins in earnest with the molar-shaking “Wisconsin 3.” It’s a dazzling cacophony of ginormous, weighty death grooves designed to bully the refined aspects of the brain. Mostly mid-tempo with spikes of violence, it’s like having an Abrams tank parked on your chestal regions and there’s no respite from the fat grooves and chugs. If death metal had a maximum weight allowance, this would exceed it by 12.7 cargo shorts. Taken as a standalone entity, “Wisconson 3” is enjoyable enough in its beefy brainlessness. However, there are still 33-odd minutes of the same raw meat smoothie for you to guzzle down. Up the cups, poser! “Scroll of Thoth” weaves in snakey Morbid Angel flourishes and counterpoints them with Cannibal Corpse-esque curb stomping for one of the album’s high points and a glimpse into Flesher’s potential in all its fatuous glory. The ominous doom segments add an extra ton to the scales and show Flesher mean nasty biness.

The problem is how aggressively one-note Flesher’s approach is. Yes, even in the Neanderthal world of caveman death metal, things can sometimes get too simplistic, and songs like “Creature Beast” are a chuggy wuggy train ride to Sameyville with no transfers allowed. Even Paul Breece’s hideously corrosive, sub-basement gurgles can’t sustain interest when you’ve been slapped with the same basic chugs as long as “Creature Beast” does, and things just get stupid by the song’s merciful end. And as soon as “Creature” ends, “The Gates” begins pummeling you with a different chug for the next several minutes and even the stoutest death enthusiast will feel their sanity begin to fray by the album’s midpoint. “No Escape” is the worst offender, spamming you for nearly 6 minutes with a collection of highly generic death grooves that could have been found in a garbage bag outside any of Six Feet Under’s recording studios. Bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah. Want more of that sentence? Then this album might be for you! With one setting and one approach, the 36-minute runtime feels way longer and I’m struggling to keep up by the 17-minute mark. There’s also bad bloat on several tracks where the nonstop chugs get extended into near-infinity, and you will know true suffering. While I’m a big Swanö supporter, I can’t really say I’m all that impressed with the production. It feels overly loud and bricked, which makes listening even more of a challenge. The guitars do carry great weight and power though, and that power is not used responsibly.

Paul Breece handles guitar and vocals. He’s a gifted death metal growler and exhibits an impressive range of roars, grunts, and wretches. Some of his delivery truly feels like a broadcast from the Ninth Circle of Hell and he clearly commits his all to the effort. Guitar-wise he delivers interesting color and flourishes at times, mining Azagthoth-esque terrors and delving into Incantation-adjacent caverns of disgust, but far too often he sticks to these utterly meatheaded chug grooves to the point where it starts to feel like a parody of death metal itself. There needs to be more diversity from track to track and even within the tracks themselves to keep attention focused. On the plus side, ex-Skeltonwitch drummer Dustin Boltjes does all he can to add interest and energy in his performance and I frequently ended up focusing on his playing as the grooves tried to smooth out my brain wrinkles.

Flesher have a big, fat, hairy sound, and like the mythical ogre, that sound is not smart. I love my death metal as stupid as the next stupid death fan, but Tales of Grotesque Demise too often veers into brain-dead territory where drool is the only by-product. Maybe the fact that I was Covid-positive while marinating in Flesher’s ponderous output colored my reaction. Maybe a healthier, more vibrant Steel would find big stupid fun amongst the vast sea of chugs. I guess we’ll never know. In summary, piledriving is a lifestyle choice and this thing will certainly pile-drive you if nothing else.

Addendum ov Steel: This album is scheduled to release on September 15th, not August 15th. Mistakes were made.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Redefining Darkness
Website: flesher1.bandcamp.com/album
Releases Worldwide: September 15th, 2023

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“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

The US Pacific Northwest (occupied by states Oregon, Washington, and Idaho if you ask people who live in Idaho) has as active and gruesome an extreme metal scene as you could ask for, hosting grimy bands like Maestus, Grst, Arkhum, and many more. However, those three bands among the masses have the distinct claim of being the product of the fraternal duo of Kenneth and Stephen Parker, who have also assisted plenty in, respectively, the production and recording/engineering for bands of similar ilk. Weaving their way around various styles of death metal and black metal, the Sinister Siblings have again summoned a new identity to codify their ideas of squealing, scuzzed out, star-splitting death metal: Paraphilia. The full-length debut The Memory of Death Given Form targets your inner caveman and inner sky-gazer with thick guitars and thicker skulls. But is that enough to satisfy the ever-dropping IQs of our death metal starved Rodeö staff? – Dolphin Whisperer

Paraphilia // The Memory of Death Given Form [April 7th, 2023]

Steel Druhm: Paraphilia are a dynamic death metal duo out of Oregon, and on their debut opus, The Memory of Death Given Form they’re out to put the Northwestern hammer down on disbelievers with an ugly sound that borrows from the old school, slam and tech camps. The brainchild of the Parker brothers, this is a blasting, pummeling affair, brutal even as it offers technical, mildly progressive ideas. There’s a heavy scent of New York-style brutal death lingering over the proceedings with Suffocation and Pyrexia being natural reference points. Mammoth chugs and phat grooves proliferate and speeds are generally fast and frantic. When the plan comes together you get ace face blasters like opener “Coruscation” where the only law is MOAR brutality and speed. The oppressive atmosphere here nurtures my ancient marrow but “Stelliferous Unmaking” is the real uncut gem, with a shambling mid-paced rumble that sounds massive and unstoppable. It’s got Bolt Thrower chugs and Jungle Rot wugs, and I need a gallon of this in my morning coffee. I’m also not mad at “Viral Entropy” which plows the poser fields with vicious blasting as interestingly proggy segues pop to the surface. That said, the writing isn’t consistent over its threadbare 33 minutes, which includes a throwaway cover of Bloodbath’s “Eaten.” The programmed drum sound is way too upfront, the production is loud as fook, and the songs tend to bleed together into a gory mulch. While there are good moments, the material feels partially uncooked and under-seasoned at times (like the title track). Shortcomings aside, there’s talent and potential here and I want to hear more from the Parker family. 2.5/5.0

Saunders: Oregon duo Paraphilia come out swinging on their tightly executed debut LP, The Memory of Death Given Form. Forget subtlety, these dudes are all about pummeling and bludgeoning the listener into a mushy pulp. Thirty-three minutes is all the time the destructive combo need to slam their point across. Drawing nostalgic influence from the famed ’90s Floridan and New York death metal scenes, jammed through a brutal death filter, complete with slam-infected grooves, Paraphilia deal in calculated brutality, technical proficiency, and a keen sense of groove to attract interest of brootal death fiends and enthusiasts of bands like the legendary Suffocation, Deeds of Flesh and Devourment. Paraphilia boasts chops and budding songwriting credentials, honing a tight mix of guttural swagger, nifty tempo swings and brutal death intensity on quality tunes such as “Stelliferous Unmaking” and “Supernal Rebuke.” The Memory of Death Given Form features bright moments and potential not quite fulfilled. Unfortunately, a heavily bricked production, serviceable but at times overbearing programmed drums, and shortage of truly gripping material mar the album’s more promising features. Also, the closing cover of Bloodbath classic “Eaten” is not bad but feels like an unnecessary add on. Wrinkles aside, I look forward to hearing how Paraphilia develops their sound. 2.5./5.0

Kentrosity: Those who know me understand that I like my death metal brutal, but also fun and bouncy. Bands like Abysmal Torment, Cytotoxin, Tomb Mold, Suffocation and the like are just a few examples of the kind that steal my attention quickly. With their debut slab of slammy, brutal and grimy death, entitled The Memory of Death Given Form, Portland’s Paraphilia earn their rightful place in that rotation. Opener “Coruscation” hits hard and fast with a grittier take on the kind of swagger Abysmal Torment is so good at. Paraphilia just do it filthier and uglier. “Stelliferous Unmaking” kicks up the slammy brutality even further but with a touch of melody, recalling the immense fun of Utter Scorn but with greater songwriting sophistication. Paraphilia’s greatest feat, however, is their juggling act tossing up a wide variety of deathly styles, achieving a sense of balance and cohesion rarefied in such cave-brained arenas (“Stelliferous Unmaking,” “Virial Entropy” and “Subernal Rebuke”). Were it not for a touch of song-by-song bloat (“The Memory of Death Given Form,” “Thanatical Imperative”) and a booming snare tone that make blast beats challenging to bear, The Memory of Death Given Form would’ve easily scored higher. Not bad at all for a debut! 3.0/5.0

Dear Hollow: I’ve seen lots of hype, heard lots of good reception, and I just had to hear it myself—and I was not disappointed. I may not be the scuzzy death connoisseur, but I know a good record when I hear it (just ask the Discord bitches) and Portland duo Paraphilia checks all the boxes with their debut full-length The Memory of Death Given Form. What can you expect? Expect a breed of Hate Eternal and Morbid Angel meeting Dyscarnate in a back alley for a knife fight while Devourment films it. Filthy curb-stomping groove is front and center, with enough flailing axework, razor-wire technicality, and formidable vocals to make a statement. You’ll find your brain pummeled by the grooves of “Coruscation” or “Thanatical Imperative” and the rabid blastbeats of “Stelliferous Unmaking” seared into your ears, while the slamming and technicality dichotomy of “Supernal Rebuke” and the title track will get your head bobbing. Granted, there are moments where the slams and runtimes get too self-indulgent (the end of “Coruscation” or the title track’s conclusion), the cover of Bloodbath’s “Eaten” feels largely unnecessary, and “Virial Entropy” doesn’t know what sound it attempts to convey with abrupt style changes throughout. Otherwise, Paraphilia has constructed a blaster of a death metal album, balancing groovy weight and cutthroat brutality for a listen as rambunctious as it is devastating. 3.0/5.0

Felagund: Paraphilia traffic in a highly recognizable wholly enjoyable form of death metal: a little grimy, with plenty of chug, a hint of slam and a dose of dissonance. They’re also an incredibly drum-driven group, with a master behind the kit who employs monstrous blasts and machine gun double bass to propel each song forward. This is the approach you’ll find on The Memory of Death Given Form, and it’s quite effective. Often, while the guitar is chugging away, it’s the high-in-the-mix percussion that powers and maintains the momentum. “Stelliferous Unmaking” is perhaps the best example of this interplay, but it occurs throughout the album’s run time and is both welcome and effective. Add in pig squeal vox and percussive gutturals, alongside driving drums over mid-paced, double-thicc riffs, and you can count me in. Where the album falls short, however, is in sheer memorability. There are solid riffs (see “The Memory of Death Given Form” and “Supernal Rebuke”), momentary atmospheric interludes (“Thanatical Imperative,” “Stelliferous Unmaking”) that add emotional heft, but the songs themselves tend to meld together into a single deathened monolith, something that’ll get you banging your head but is forgotten soon after. Album closer “Eaten,” a well-done Bloodbath cover, is equal parts enjoyable and frustrating, because there are hints of the kind of band Paraphilia could be. They cover a well-known song, but add their own touches, resulting in a cover that ends up revealing their true potential. To wit, a grimier, thicker, murkier, drum-driven version of Bloodbath. Unfortunately, that isn’t the record we got, but it’s the one I’m now looking forward to. 2.5/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: In the vein of a band like Mithras who has absorbed the jagged and pummeling roots of Morbid Angel death metal in a brutal and modern fashion, Paraphilia tears neatly through the cosmic corridors of The Memory of Death Given Form. From the dark tremolo chug of “Coruscation” to the necrotic groove of the title track, Paraphilia riffs in worship of its influences. However, as a result, Memory can feel a bit familiar. But flourishes of higher caliber brutality through swinish scowls and gravity-bending leadwork help to add a flavor that brings Memory to the current landscape of high brow death metal pit-clobbering. Having been part of other olde-tinged products together already, the fraternal pairing of the brothers Parker in Paraphilia is too solid to fail—through the minimally altered cover of Bloodbath’s “Eaten” does little for me as the original is plenty potent on its own. The cover does fit in better to a more contemporary chug-filled playlist though in its heftier kick and generally loud fervor, and the same is true of all the iron-cored numbers arranged for the quick crush the album delivers. I can’t help but wonder what a more organic drumming experience would add to the already dexterous explorations of “Stelliferous Unmaking” or “Virial Entropy,” but as it stands Paraphilia still packs enough bite to draw blood—not a lifetime scar of pride, but a warning for what the twisted future holds. 3.0/5.0

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Four mighty contributors shaped Heavy Moves Heavy 2022. Ferox, Thus Spoke, Holdeneye, and Steel Druhm each chose the ten songs released this year that dominated our respective workouts. The resulting playlist is appended to this article. Play it straight through or set it to shuffle; HMH is designed to work either way. If you prefer individually curated suffering, each contributor’s list is available separately via AMG’s Spotify account.

If you fancy yourself worthy, add your suggestions in the comments. They will be subjected to a remorseless testing process we call The Winnowing, and those that survive will be added to the master list.

To the list!

Ferox Obliterates His Inner 98-Pound Weakling:

“Götterdämmerung” // Zeal & Ardor (Zeal & Ardor) – This is fancy-pants for such a hairy-knuckled playlist, and I’m suspicious of myself for choosing it. Do I even lift? “Götterdämmerung” is a jolt of pure energy, though, four scoops of high-test pre-workout distilled into musical form.

“Necrobionics” // Undeath (It’s Time… to Rise from the Grave) – “Torn apart… and reassembled!” Undeath’s groove-infected take on death metal makes just about any track playlist-worthy, but the message here cuts to the heart of the Heavy Moves Heavy ethos. Tear yourself apart. Reassemble!

“Galleries of Morbid Artistry” // Revocation (Netherheaven) – “Descending down this skeletal staircase, deeper into the catacombs…” Revocation’s brutal but literate ripper describes the plunge into the hellish section of a workout perfectly, all while the dynamic riffs push, prod, and taunt you.

“Noose of Thorns” // Immolation (Acts of God) – The massive highlight of a massive album, “Noose of Thorns” tears the sky open and commands you from on high to do its bidding. Its bidding is for you to get swole.

“Crescent Horn” // Bastard (Rotten Blood) – Nonsense chorus of the year right here. Why do the crescent horns have a gaze, let alone a black one? STOP ASKING QUESTIONS AND LIFT.

“Hollow” // Strigoi (Viscera) – As bleak and hopeless as the middle of your workout. Don’t think, just let the stomping, nasty riffs keep you going.

“More Torment” // Midnight (Let There be Witchery) – The official anthem of the Skull Pit, played at gigavolumes while n00bs try to steal some sleep. The sleazy mid-paced riff at the heart of this song will whip you into action while the chorus teaches you to get comfortable in the uncomfortable.

“Reduced to Liquefied Mass” // Cryptworm (Spewing Mephitic Putridity) – You should be past the point of coherent speech by now, which is the perfect time to lean on something primordial. We don’t need words where we’re going, at least not the kind you can understand.

“Kenosis” // Hath (All that was Promised) – The Song of the Year doubles as a killer workout companion. The brutal and the melodic work in tandem here, spotting you and shouting encouragement as you go for that last rep.

“Let the Beast Run Wild” // In Aphelion (Moribund) – You made it; just the finisher to go. Here’s a meloblack morsel to flood your earholes while you grab those giant fucking dumbbells, stand up tall, and take them for a walk.

Holdeneye Lifts the Whole Damn Gym:

“Fertilize the Soil” // Wachenfeldt (Faustian Reawakening) – At times plodding, at times thrashing, “Fertilize the Soil” has every musical nutrient the body needs to get swole.

“Medieval Cowboys” // Hell Fire (Reckoning) – This brief thrasher’s devil-may-care attitude is contagious. If music raises your heart rate, does that count as cardio?

“The Ruins” // Becoming the Archetype (Children of the Great Extinction) – A Christian metalcore fan’s wet dream (sorry, God!), this simple groover features Demon Hunter’s Ryan Clark and oozes with swagger. The lyric ‘every breath is a prayer’ often resonates with me while training.

“Cage of Resentment” // Wayward Dawn (All-Consuming Void) – I could have used this album as my entire list and not been wrong. These guys make some of the most gym-friendly death metal around.

“Arena at Dis” // Daeva (Through Sheer Will and Black Magic) – After an extremely violent intro, this track settles into a Satanic little groove as it tells its story of cage fighting in Hell’s octagon. Play this during training, and you’ll soon be tipping back non-gender-specific brotein shakes with the devil himself.

“Rose Fire” // The Offering (Seeing the Elephant) – Civil unrest sound effects combine with nu-metal angst to deliver one of the most intense tracks, and one of the most memorable choruses, of the year.

“Kingdoms Turned to Sand” // Miseration (Black Miracles and Dark Wonders) – If these guys ever put out an entire album of this quality, it might be the album of that year. One of Älvestam’s greatest tracks to date. The self-aggrandizement on display in the lyrics here pretty much engorges my muscles on its own.

“This Ends with the World in Ruins” // Graceless (Chants from Purgatory) – Mournful and bludgeoning, this monster channels Bolt Thrower bigly, and the weights pretty much lift themselves while its playing. “This Ends with the World in Ruins” is what I’ve been known to say to myself during a particularly terrible squat set.

“A Funeral Within” // Ironflame (Where Madness Dwells) – Every workout playlist needs some traditional metal, and this track’s simple riffing and emotive vocals can hold their own against any death metal number on this list.

“Omniscient Flail of Infamy” // High Command (Eclipse of the Dual Moons) – Epic spoken-word quest instructions? Check. Uncompromising thrash? Check. Story about acquiring a magical weapon made from the skull of an enemy so it can be used to crush more skulls of more enemies? Check. Strength +1 while playing.

Thus Spoke vs the Skippers of Leg Day:

“Scorched Earth” // Mass Worship (Portal Tombs) – You can do your set at pretty much any time during this song and it’ll do the trick. But I personally find timing the intake of breath and subsequent lift in the little fake-out near the start before the heavy guitars and drums kick in is the best.

“Wings of Deliverance” // Carrion Vael (Abhorrent Obsessions) – Use the intro to psych yourself up and get ready if need be, then let the furious energy and awesome solo take you through.

“Death Complex” // Hath (All that was Promised) – The perfect balance of heavy and melodic to take you through one of those leg press or pendulum squat sets that feel like they’ll never end. Such a banger.

“Self-Help Book-Burning” // Werewolves (From the Cave to the Grave) – That brilliantly sardonic sample with it’s final renunciatory “oh fuck it,” followed by the vocalists’ growls of “fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you,” is why this is here.

“From Ruin…We Rise” // Shadow of Intent (Elegy) – Strong, straightforwardly motivational stuff. Also the ‘now rise, now rise’ lyrics in the chorus applies quite neatly for trying to lift a barbell off the floor, or yourself, or lift yourself with a barbell on top of you.

“An Ocean of Blood” // Strigoi (Viscera) – Perfect rhythm, sounds evil, has a great solo for when you need to push through the sticking point. What more do you want?

“The Contemptor” // Devenial Verdict (Ash Blind) – Stomping and heavy as shit. Gnarly guitar. Perfect for rage channeling by chucking around far too much weight.²

“Red Dot Sight” // To the Grave (Red Dot Sight) – Another wild one to make you feel like a hard-as-nails lifting machine. Just try and tell me that buzzsaw noise in the first verse doesn’t give you a little shivery jolt of adrenaline.

“Deluge” // Gaerea (Mirage) – Pure intensity. It’s got slow bits for you to be all dramatic with your big lifts, and it’s also got stirring, all-enveloping fast bits for you to be all dramatic with all your other big lifts. (Those bits are my favourite).

“Withering Fire” // Vital Spirit (Still as the Night, Cold as the Wind) – You can use this for lifting. But better if you use it for the cardio session you’ve been putting off forever and find you’ve sprouted wings. Because this is audial adrenaline.

Steel Druhm Sez Taste the Floor:

“Final Frost” // Autopsy (Morbidity Triumphant) – If a song sounds as if the members were being forced to lift heavy shit, it helps me lift heavy shit. Chris Reifert sounds greatly stressed and burdened here and the riffs creak under a heavy load.

“Blood of the Serpent” // Doldrey (Celestial Deconstruction) – Low-fi d-beaty Swedeath set to 13 is a no-brainer for gym antics and Doldrey bottled pure testosterone and horse piss on this one. Sip deeply 1 minute before testing your mettle, but keep a bucket handy.

“Saxons and Vikings” // Amon Amarth (The Great Heathen Army) – Viking-core is a natural selection for lifting, and every Amon Amarth album has one or two cuts perfect for it. This one gets the blood up and helps wield the steel like a remorseless wargrinder.

“Embalmed in Concrete” // Katakomba (Katakomba) – More low-fi Swedeath? Fook yeah! This one screams strain and pain and this is The Way. Feel the heft of the riffs. These are not for casual gymmers.

“Of Human Frailty” // Maul (Seraphic Punishment) – Mammoth, crushing grooves and a feeling of immense, unmoveable mass, it’s all here. This thing was tailor-made for leg day or deadlifts. It’s a marriage made in Hell (9th Level).

“Can You See the Pale Horseman in the Distance” // Grave Infestation (Persecution of the Living) – Wordy title but this is a straight-up hammer-fest of ugly riffs and oppressive drumming. This thing could charge up a corpse and get it striving for personal bests. Think what it could do for the living.

“United” // Circle of Silence (Walk Through Hell) – A classic heavy metal tune on a beefbrained gym playlist? When it channels this much of Manowar’s famously toxic masculinity, there can be no other choice. This will get you fired up to lift and then fight a group of randos in the parking lot after. War is life.

“A Call to Arms” // Jungle Rot (A Call to Arms) – Jungle Rot have essentially been auditioning for the house band spot at the AMG liftorium since they were formed, and low-brow, hairy knuckle odes to violence and force like this one keep them in the running. Feel the arms race.

“Fallen Mountain” // Demonical (Mass Destroyer) – The album title says it all, right? This is a grinding, heavy beast well suited for grinding, beastly days in your power dungeon. Lift that mountain!

“The Eyes of Dread” // Sentient Horror (Rites of Gore) – Marrying Swedeath with Bolt Thrower-grade riffs can do no harm, unless you use it to fuel a brutal workout. You should do that and see what happens next. We are not liable for mishaps or mayhem.

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Featuring the same lineup and mission statement, Fearsick sounds like a continuation of Rat°God, but in the early stages it really struggles to get traction. Opening cut “The Mold Testament” has a great pun and an intro riff that sounds like “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath” wrung through a death metal juicer, but it comes across like Machine Head doing half-assed death metal – cartoony and stupid. I don’t mind some unseriousness on a death platter, but this kind of thing hurt the last album at times, and to lead with it is a bad omen. Tracks like “Recycled Hate” and “Caustic Vomit Reveries” never seem to get out of low-gear, delivering super simple, low-grade death in the ruptured vein of Six Feet Under. It isn’t until mid-album piece “King Con” that things start to feel somewhat more engaging and memorable, and that’s a bit late in this game of death.

And even at that point, there’s not much here to really grab the listener and shake the brain loose. “Fencewalker” is the most dynamic offering, wandering between vintage Death and Massacre moments into a doomy, ominous segment that works well. Some well-placed whammy dives close the deal and make you wish the rest of Fearsick brought as much punch to the table. Things close decently with “Where Pain is Infinity” but as the album drop into silence, it’s impossible to avoid the feeling that the band rushed this effort and should have let the material marinate much longer on the meat hook. There’s not one track here that rivals the material on Rat°God and even the highlights are just okay and nothing more. Things often feel too stripped-down, simplistic, and caveman, rivaling even the low-brow stupidity of Jungle Rot. The 36-minute runtime also suggests this was a rush job, though the conciseness is certainly appreciated in this case.

With such a seasoned crew running the show, it’s fair to expect more than what Fearsick delivers. Terry Butler is death metal royaly with time in Death, Massacre, Obituary, Six Feet Under, and Denial Fiend. Unfortunately, it seems he found his inspiration this time from his days in Six Feet Under and Denial Fiend. The song structures offer little in the way of memorability or excitement, though they do mimic the 80s death sound well enough. Taylor Nordberg (Deicide, Ribspreader, ex-Massacre, ex-Wombbath) serves up uber-basic riffs and plenty of hammy whammy dives, but few of the leads will stick to the walls of your skull or raise your blood temperature. Jermaine Kling (Ex-Deo, Ribspeader, ex-Massacre, ex-Wombbath) does a respectable job vocally, landing somewhere between Kam Lee and Corpsegrinder. He also handles drums well. The problem is the rudimentary song structures and the lack of memorable hooks. The writing feels rushed and unpolished and there’s an absence of throat-crushing intensity running throughout the album.

Whenever Fearsick ends, my mp3 player rolls right into Rat°God and it’s always like a hard slap in the face with a cold, dead fish. It’s startling how much more urgent, aggressive and fun the material there was compared to what Fearsick provides. This isn’t a terrible album, and it has some fun moments, but it’s quite the steep dropoff from what we heard a year ago. I definitely want to hear more from Inhuman Condition since what they do is so squarely rooted in my wheelhouse. I just hope they take way more time to develop the songs next time out. The world doesn’t need another Six Feet Under so death to death metal sweatshops!

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Listenable Insanity
Websites: inhumancondition.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Inhumanconditionband
Releases Worldwide: July 15th, 2022

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Don’t get me wrong. There’s a loveably troglodyte reliability to what Jungle Rot deliver, and the opening title track is an enjoyably dumb slab of dodo death. It’s ham-fisted and brain dead, but damn if it won’t get your head bobbing as that Sacred Reich on bath salts sound erupts anew. It’s the exact same song the band’s been flogging forever and believe it or not, it still kinda works. It’s pure 90s death-groove and it’ll make you want to slam your head against the wall and throw your buds into a wood chipper before you buckle down to that deadlift routine you read about on Roidrebels.net. What else can we really ask of a song of this ilk? And there are a few equally thyroid-harassing anthems in store for the rotted. The extra urgent “Beyond the Grave” is like Pro-Pain doing death metal after a few too many boilermakers, and “Asymmetrical Warfare” is a surprisingly spry cut that will absolutely pulverize fools in a live setting. The rowdy punch drunkness of “Genocidal Imperium” is also hard to turn up your nose at because sometimes dumb is good fun.

In all honesty, it isn’t until the album’s halfway point that the quality starts to wobble. After the last chugs of angry chug-runner¹ “Vengeance and Bloodlust” fade into the distance, the Jungle Rot juice begins to show its age and inherent limitations. It’s not so much that cuts like “Maggot Infested” or “Haunting Future” are bad, but there’s only so much of this style one can take before it all starts to sound the same. It’s fair to say that whatever 3-5 cuts were randomly placed in front would fare best, as there’s a real fatigue factor in play when Jungle running. Luckily, A Call to Arms is a scant 33 minutes, which alleviates wear and tear and should allow the average knuckledragger to blast through the album before terminal mind rot sets in. It won’t be the most original 33 minutes you’ve heard, but it will jiggle your brain Jimmies plenty.

The thing that always strikes me when I hear Jungle Rot is how much Dave Matrise sounds like Sacred Reich’s Phil Rind. Sure, Dave’s bellow is meaner and more deathy, but the Rindness is ever-present and I’m forever expecting him to start screaming about the “American Way.” Chug meisters James Genenz and Geoff Bub shake their groove makers with fervor, injecting massive doses of beef and brawn in lieu of grey matter. They are masters of the bro-groove and they plow that field with admirable zeal. Some of their minimalist little flourishes are fun and stand out too. Their playing reminds me of Pro-Pain and long-forgotten 80s battle thrashers, At War, and that’s probably why I have a soft spot for their never-changing schtick. It ain’t setting any trends or breaking new ground, but it’s better than disco and it will get you modest gainz on leg day, brah.

Twenty-five years in, it’s clear that Jungle Rot are the Sodom of death metal, but with much less evolutionary potential than their German brethren. I’ll admit to having low expectations coming into A Call to Arms, and what I got is a very predictable but mildly entertaining platter of caveman death splatter with a few standout moments. It’s not likely to convert many into Jungle Rot fiends, but by their own standards, the writing here is solid enough. I doubt I’ll be spinning this much in the unknowable future, but I didn’t hate being shellacked by these neanderthal tunes and I don’t feel significantly dumber now than I did going in. Small victories.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Unique Leader
Website: facebook.com/igotjunglerot
Releases Worldwide: May 13th, 2022

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Much can and should be said about the length of Pyramids of Damnation, and I’ll begin by noting that it’s eleven minutes longer than Hammerheart. The unbelievable length of Pyramids of Damnation is a major hurdle for Aborted Fetus which is exacerbated because the band operates in a stylistically narrow vein. Their sound takes the form of hardcore-infused brutal death of Internal Bleeding and the matter of Bolt Thrower and Jungle Rot with slight blackened touches via Demigod-era (i.e. pre-terrible) Behemoth. I should stress that this style is an appealing one and Aborted Fetus play it well. Introductory bulldozer “Pharaoh’s Disasters” sets a great tone, following this up ably with “Earth’s Bloody Punishment” which concludes on one of the better-quality Bolt Thrower riffs I’ve heard not written by those Britons.

What’s frustrating is, a la carte, I like a good number of the songs which comprise Pyramids of Damnation. “Execution by Toads” begins on a typical bit of Bolt Thrower melodicism and continues to pummel along at a moderate pace. There are blasts on the record, but they can’t fully drag the riffs out of the mire. This is a fine aesthetic choice, but it decreases the variety of the sixty-seven minutes of material and in turn produces diminishing returns through incessant repetition. The rather stock Egyptian-sounding interludes, first appearing as bookends of “Queen’s Prophecy,” break up the deluge of mere decency but have little if anything to do with the death metal surrounding them. The transition from these parts into death metal is just one of shock by contrast – much like when a death metal band arbitrarily uses “O Fortuna” to launch into an unrelated blast-fest.

Deadly riffs lurk like predators amidst a forest of decent but largely forgettable ones. “Abscesses on My Body” has a couple of them which get the spotlight for less time than they should before they’re transformed to tremolo runs of the same patterns, lacking the rhythmic appeal of the initial bludgeoning. A massive riff rears its head in the middle of “Locust of Death,” but the listener will find it hard to care at this point in the record because Pyramids of Damnation has already overstuffed them on the style. Lengthy albums aren’t bad in themselves – Akurion provides an example of a great one from this year – but an album is a cohesive whole meant to be taken in one sitting; we’re to clean our plates with each spin. When you’re full by the halfway mark and stuffed beyond wanting a wafer-thin mint by three-quarters, what was once tolerable, and perhaps even fun, begins to grate. Full-lengths aren’t meant to be broken up into separate listening sessions. And yet, that appears to be the only way Pyramids of Damnation can be truly enjoyable.

The big bass slide into a pummeling chugging Jungle Rot/Bolt Thrower riff in “Fear of Darkness” is another deadly moment, but once again it’s hard to care when the music has long surpassed the point of being grating, numbing wallpaper. Content must suit form, and this is where Pyramids of Damnation utterly fails. This was never meant to be a sixty-seven-minute record. In On the Art of Writing, Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch famously stated the following: “Whenever you feel an impulse to perpetrate a piece of exceptionally fine writing, obey it—whole-heartedly—and delete it before sending your manuscript to press. Murder your darlings.” Aborted Fetus did whole-heartedly obey their impulses with the torrent of tracks and multiple Egyptian-styled interludes presented here. What they failed to do – rather ironically as a brutal death metal band – is effectively murder their darlings or even exile them to an archipelago of splits and EPs. Pyramids of Damnation ends up as a death metal record that’s ruthless except where it mattered most.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 310 kbps mp3
Label: Comatose Music
Website: facebook.com/abortedfetusbrutality
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2020

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Sepultura’s Chaos AD saw the band implementing far more overt tribal influence than before. Igor Cavalera’s drumming incorporated more groove, and the guitars followed suit; less thrashing, more chugging. Roots saw this taken to an extreme, taking the primal aspect of the native Brazilian groove, dialing it up to eleven, and forcing the guitars to follow suit. More than Chaos AD, Roots was a rhythmically driven record with Igor Cavalera’s drums taking the leading role. Ektomorf switch this around, and give big, crunchy guitars a leading role instead, like Max Cavalera did in Soulfly. What differentiates Ektomorf from nu-metal is the absence of the influence of American hip-hop present in that genre. Fury, like much of their discography, is influenced by the post-Chaos work of Max Cavalera primarily and secondarily by straightforward hardcore-tinged death metal like Jungle Rot and their ilk.

Ektomorf’s style, like any, has its various appeals. “AK-47” has a great chorus that’s built up expertly, and the quick half-time downshift hits like a ton of bricks because of it. The lyrics are pure Soulfly, meaning they’re stilted and simple but memorable and hugely entertaining. “Infernal Warfare” sounds like something from Soulfly run through the more thrash-based Dark Ages filter, which means it’s catchy, energetic, and tailor-made for being blared at ear splitting volume. “Bullet in Your Head” is bolstered by the tom-heavy drumming in its chorus, lending the simple chugging riff underneath a surplus of heft and energy. “Skin Them Alive” is the thrashiest, heaviest number here, sporting Zoltan Farkas’s best vocal performance on Fury and a collection of the record’s best riffs. With Sepultura being boring, it’s nice to hear post-Roots thrash in that mould played so well.

The drawbacks of Ektomorf’s sound manifest themselves when their riffs miss the mark. “Faith and Strength” is beefy wallpaper: inoffensive, loud, and not very memorable because of a lackluster riff or two. “Tears of Christ” sounds like early Soulfly outtakes run through molasses and disabused of memorable riffs and energy. “If You’re Willing to Die” is built of good parts that overstay their welcome, which interestingly is a problem that tends to plague Soulfly.

Ektomorf have stayed their course right down to production. Tue Madsen does his usual work here, which finds its ideal realization in Ektomorf: loud, clear, chunky, and modern. Fury is an easy record to like; Ektomorf know what they want to play, and they play it with aplomb and passion. Fury is not cerebral, complex, or technical. Fury is a distillation of metal’s base aggression into a form far more accessible than slam and far more musically proficient than early Venom. Fury is simply aggressive, cathartic fun with a few missteps that are quickly rectified by subsequent tracks. What prevents Ektomorf records from being great is that they have no distinct individually; part of Aggressor’s tracklist could be switched with Fury’s, and it would be tough to notice a difference. With that in mind, Ektomorf has their own sound overall, and haven’t modified it here. There’s likely no real debate on the best Ektomorf record, because they’re all serviceable and entertaining. Fury is no different, for better or worse.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: AFM Records
Website: facebook.com/ektomorfofficial
Releases Worldwide: February 16th, 2018

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