Ashenspire

Maud the Moth – The Distaff Review

Maud the Moth – The Distaff Review

“We all take shape in the form that others prescribe—an embodiment that may run counter to how we see ourselves. Yet, in this world of heavy artistry whose inception rests in the bravery and drama and drive against the on-the-tracks trajectory of rock music—often too in sneer at traditional thought patterns—we search for freedom in amplified wisdom, reckless rhythms, and voices that soar above it all. Maud the Moth, in piano and vocal-based lamentations, appears to us not in the rev and leather that symbolize the traditional call of heavy metal.” Leave the lights on.

UKĆ – Coming Out Review

UKĆ – Coming Out Review

UKĆ is the brainchild of Łukasz ‘Icanraz’ Sarnacki, a Polish artist who has knocked around the local scene for a while. Billed as “black-prog from the heart,” I was impressed by some of the early singles, and the promo pit wasn’t exactly overflowing with goodness, so I grabbed Coming Out.” Out in the cold.

Maud the Moth + Trajedesaliva – Bordando el manto terrestre Review

Maud the Moth + Trajedesaliva – Bordando el manto terrestre Review

“Unquestionably I spend most of my listening time browsing this site’s namesake aesthetic, but I also enjoy sticking my nose elsewhere to try to catch a whiff of what else may inspire that same special beauty in ugliness I desire. Though the Maud the Moth (Amaya López-Carromero also of healthyliving) side has a metallic line to the pleading halls of Scotland’s Ashenspire, Trajedesaliva (the duo of Mon Ninguén on synths and unavena on voice) hosts no such connection, living in their own experimental electronic ambient world.” MOAR Moth?

Anareta – Fear Not Review

Anareta – Fear Not Review

“Somethin’s a brewin’ down in Nawlins, and it’s not just the festering street sludge that remains from this year’s Mardi Gras bash that has gone and passed. In fact, despite the region’s historical connection to the genre of that festering namesake, Anareta hasn’t an ounce of that groove and vitriol-fueled sound in their DNA—Fear Not comes with its own determined sense of dread and horror, though. You see, this sextet of stringed things and a drum kit play a form of gloomy and rollicking blackened metal led by the screech and saunter of a chamber orchestra trio—cello, viola, and violin fill the air of this grief-laden venture.” Crouching ferocity, hidden chamber pot.