Gloombreaker sounds exactly like someone who hasn’t played or composed music in 30 years messing around on Garageband, trying to emulate Candlemass and Black Sabbath. There is barely a second across Gloombreaker that doesn’t sound as amateur as it truthfully is. Many of the riffs are barely riffs at all, they’re just plodding sequences of vaguely related chords. The solos are worse. The opener “Dogs of Doom” has a solo in the middle that is just a bunch of sustained notes bent this way and that. Whereas drum machines tend to sound lifeless in the wrong hands, this one sounds so bored it’s ready for an EMP to put it out of its misery. And I haven’t even gone into the vocals yet. The lady of the house is at her best when she keeps her tone low-key and atmospheric, but when she tries something with more power, she swerves off-track, across the gravel, over the tires, and into the screaming audience. Husband dearest is worse, for he attempts many things and is terrible at every single one, from a drunkenly swerving epic doom tone to weirdly misplaced falsetto squeaks to a strangled, croaky scream.

And I’ve not yet even touched upon how bad Gloombreaker sounds. I get the distinct feel that this was produced entirely in Mr. Wilson’s favorite freemium software because none of the layers match in the slightest, everything sounds dry and flimsy and is stock, and random effects dot the album left and right.¹ Some echo here, some reverb there, a weird electronic sound that keeps looping over “Spell of the Grey Sorcerer.” The timing is off frequently, though it’s hard to tell whether that’s a performance problem or a production problem; likely it’s both. The most amusing gaffe (which doesn’t seem to have made it into the YouTube video) is Mrs. Wilson quietly asking ‘Can we listen to it?’ at the end of “Dog of Doom.” On a better album, I may have thought it a cheeky little 4th wall break, but Gloombreaker never earns the benefit of the doubt.

I’m running out of words, and yet I feel like I haven’t even scratched the surface of all the ways this album is one of the most dire I have had the misfortune to encounter. Sure, “Scorched Earth” has some bits that could almost be construed as redeeming, and the final riff of “Gloombreaker” is pretty cool despite the barked inanity of ‘Break. The. Gloom. Gloombreaker!’ But the vast majority of Gloombreaker has all the zeal and inspiration of a brick lying on a suburb sidewalk. And I can’t even properly enjoy giving the music its due, because the Wilsons come across as nice and genuine people passionate about what they do. But as I am reviewing Warpriest, not its constituent components, I can only recommend that you maintain a safe distance from Gloombreaker and leave the Wilsons to their hobby undisturbed.

Rating: 0.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-released
Websites: warpriest.bandcamp.com | warpriest.deathisgain.com | facebook.com/warpriestmetal
Releases Worldwide: September 13th, 2024

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What Dragonborn does is drags pop versions of metal, rock, electronic, and hip-hop kicking and screaming into an album entirely devoted to TikTok trends like the “Hoist the Colors” bass vocal covers, Ronnie Radke’s antics, sea shanties, and melodies ripped from classic songs. Jeris Johnson helms the craft with a very confused charisma, a grungy smoky tenor that tries to adapt to the clusterfuck of influences, forcing a square peg of Viking and fantasy imagery through the round holes of trap music, nu-metal, and hard rock. Insufferably bland at best and unbearably awful at worst, influences slamming across the universe with Falling in Reverse-esque abandon. Dragonborn is as bad as you can imagine, and often worse.

Let’s start with the good mediocre passable tolerable. “John” is a dad-rock anthem with a decently written chorus that worms its way into your brain whether you like it or not – conjuring the likes of Nickelback or Staind. Jeris’ cover of Seal’s “Kiss from a Rose,” while utterly unnecessary and only adding a weaker vocal performance to song’s legacy, is as okay as a pop/rock song you hear on the radio in the mid-2000s. Otherwise, Dragonborn’s strengths shine as brief glimmers of potential in isolated passages: the Korpiklaani-inspired plucking in the intro title track isn’t bad; the riffs of “When the Darkness Comes,” “Down with the Dynasty,” and “Not a Person (Freak)” have some weight at first. Johnson’s voice is also capable and has potential, even if he can’t seem to write a solid verse, chorus, or bridge to save his life.¹ So, uh, we’re in fucking trouble.

Perhaps the biggest and dumbest thing about Jeris Johnson is his ability to make an audio train wreck impossible to look away from. Interpolations are perhaps most jarring. “When the Darkness Comes” features a central melody stolen from the Arabian riff (aka “Streets of Cairo”) in an “I guess the minor key works if you’re into that” way, the central melody of “Siren Song” is unashamedly robbed from the fucking Christmas goddamn classic hymn “What Child is This?” for fuck sake and I never thought I would be checking that off of my 2024 bingo card. Meanwhile, “Story of Our Lives” tries to force electronic, trap, rap, and Tyr-esque medieval melodies into an orgy with no chemistry; “Welcome to Valhalla” feels like you wanted “Hoist the Colors” to be both a Wardruna cut and a trap metal song by Travis Scott; “Here’s to the Years” features an Alestorm-meets-Dropkick Murphys pirate vibe plus Irish shanty jig that makes me wanna puke; “Down with the Dynasty” is basically a metal cover of “Centuries” by Fall Out Boy without any fun or catchiness; “Not a Person (Freak)” features a We Butter the Bread with Butter-inspired shuddering deathcore breakdown that is only iterated fucking once; “Eat Drink War Repeat” is basically a Brokencyde song with all the soul-crushing cringe and likewise not knowing what sex is; “Ode to Metal” is just a rap/punk song that Ronnie Radke would start beef with someone over; and “Finish Line” is basically a Five Finger Death Punch power ballad. The independent nature of Dragonborn is also plain bad, as Jeris Johnson’s autotuned gaffs shine through “Story of Our Lives” and “When the Darkness Comes” with piercing clarity.

So what’s left? A singer/songwriter who has no idea what kind of album he actually wants. Is he a Viking king? A club-frequenting playboy? A hair-flipping fan of Falling in Reverse? Someone who would actually defend Ronnie Radke on Instagram? Someone who’s likes Shrezzers’ “PVRNHVB”? I’ll tell you who Jeris Johnson is: he’s an influencer on YouTube and TikTok. And Dragonborn is an experiment of the most embarrassing variety, but ultimately is not intended for us. I mean, if you’re into unnecessary variety and TikTok trends, have at it. I need to sit down.

Rating: 0.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: STREAM
Label: Self-Released
Websites: jerisjohnson.com | facebook.com/killjerisjohnson | tiktok.com/@jerisjohnson
Releases Worldwide: August 23rd, 2024

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Dreamslain heavily rely on keys of various types, from piano to organ to harpsichord to synths, shifting between these as their songs develop. These contribute to an almost carnivalesque swing on tracks like “Secrets of the Forge” and “Ghost Story,” conveying how the band aimed for something grand here. The layers of keys, changeable guitars, switches between heavy and light, varied vocal approach, and chunky song lengths belie a fantastical tale woven with progressive metal. Forge could be distantly compared to Madder Mortem (for the varied, zany approach to prog) or Arjen Lucassen (for the over-the-top storytelling). However, you should not mistake the quality of these acts as an indicator of the quality here. When I hear a good album, my brain immediately begins identifying its strengths. Forge has the opposite effect, where I immediately begin identifying its deficiencies. There’s unfortunately a lot to say.

The greatest weakness is probably the bizarre, toothless production. The keyboard tones are comically terrible, and the bass is so buried as to be almost inaudible. It has the lo-fi feel of a demo recorded in one take, except that the Dreamslain one sheet suggests this is intended to be a full-length release in their discography. I can only assume that it sounds like how it’s intended to sound. I generally prefer production that isn’t overly polished, but Forge is so unpolished that it sounds amateurish. Likewise, the clean singing takes the form of a misguided warble that lacks depth, grit, and melody. Again, I’m forced to assume that this is how it was intended to sound but I’m bewildered as to how this can be the case. These warbles are blended with sneering shouts and shrieks that lack the cutting edge you would expect from harsh metal vocals. Only the harsh vocal passage over the piano scales on “Ghost Story” is remotely interesting. In their best passages, the vocals are passable, but at their worst, they’re distractingly shoddy.

By contrast, other instrumentation is reasonably accomplished. Dreamslain’s drums are genuinely impressive, and by far the best element of Forge. There are some groovy fills and transitions bridging passages where the drums are the one sound in the medley that feels deliberate and in control. It’s just a shame that they’re neutered by non-existent bass in the mix and an aggravating kick drum tone. Likewise, where the guitars are given some breathing room away from the keyboards, they’re solid enough. The opening riffs on “Braving the Storm” and “Humankinds Fall” aren’t bad, and there are a couple of shredding passages that cause my ears to pick up. But even in these moments, these guitar melodies are merely average compared with the perplexing remainder. Guitars should dictate the tone and feel of metal music, developing songs from one place to another, but all tracks here meander without purpose for six to ten minutes a piece. They begin feeling too long after just 60 seconds.

From the directionless song structures to the tepid melodies, to the phony keyboard tones, to the crappy production, almost everything here follows an aesthetic choice that I would not have made. It isn’t utterly irredeemable – these cats know their way around their instruments and demonstrate chops through the faster passages – but simply being able to play your instrument should be a minimum requirement, not the highlight. I’ve tried to write reasonably in response to Dreamslain with this review. Punching down on a small band participating in their passion project is rarely the right course of action. But Forge is bafflingly bad. They should return to the drawing board.

Rating: 0.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 224 kbps mp3
Label: Self-released
Websites: dreamslain.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/dreamslain
Releases Worldwide: June 14th, 2024

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Problem #1: please note the quotation marks around the words “funeral” and “doom.” This is not really doom, nor is it in any way near funereal, dirge-y, or anything even remotely resembling one of my favorite genres besides the excruciatingly long song lengths (which I’ll circle back to). This has got more than a subtle whiff of nü-bounce to it, especially in the poorly-programmed drumbeats by bassist Brustrella. From the self-titled opener to closer “Budrum,” the David Silveria worship rears its ugly head in the worst, inopportune times, and usually without any rhyme or reason, and that’s because…

Problem #2: …there’s no coherent flow whatsoever between or within songs, due to the poor musicianship on display. Neither Brustrella nor guitarist/vocalist Kapnothios can play their instruments competently, and whenever they happen upon something resembling a riff, it’s pedestrian, middling, and stretched out further than a scene kid’s earlobes on literally every track on here, as if Saint Vitus smoked themselves into such a stupor that they forgot what the fuck it was they were supposed to do. “Odd Times Ahead” is a handful of boring riffs pulled beyond the breaking point. “Dismal Nostalgia” would cure insomnia if it were an instrumental. “Signs of Life” drags on and on and on until we are *ahem* “greeted” with the worst guitar solo I’ve heard all year. Don’t even get me going on the sixteen-minute “epic” “Slo Dth 22,” performed at 22 bpm, which is basically Forest of Equilibrium-era Cathedral if they all suffered a lobotomy.

Problem #3: The vocals and the lyrics. HOO-BOY. Kapnothios operates in two modes. He has a “clean,” nasally, whiny, almost ookie-spooky talking voice that would fit in with any Insane Clown Posse-affiliated band, and he has a decent-enough growl that’s sadly clearly enunciable. I say “sadly” because these lyrics… oh god. Lemme spoil shit for you: every song on here, and I mean every song on here, deals with dying, wishing to die, death… and smoking pot. I’m not kidding you. And it’s all with the remarkable depth of a sink that’s got water an inch deep, and that’s only because there’s hair clogged in the drain, and the water is starting to smell really, really foul. None of this provokes deep thought, nor does it challenge or captivate, unless you find the idea of someone feverishly growling “COMA SLEEP! COMA SLEEP! COMA SLEEEEEEEEEP!!!” over Roots-era Sepultura riffs and jumpdafuckup beats, like near the end of “As Sudden As the End,” challenging or captivating.

So here it is. 61 minutes of life I will not get back under any circumstances, and easily one of the most cringe things I have ever experienced, and as someone who lived through modern-day Nergal, and has a neighbor who subjected me² to Corey Taylor’s debut solo album, I know cringe when I hear it. There’s nothing “funeral” on here unless you count being bored to death. There’s nothing “progressive” of note unless you count not being able to play an instrument well enough except for that rare instance when you happen upon a lucky melody or some shit. Instead, we have a masked duo that joins the likes of other famous masked groups like Mushroomhead, Slipknot, and the mainstream metal review sites’ favorite cilantro of the moment, Sleep Token.³ But at least those bands offer something of note. This clearly doesn’t. Puff, puff, and pass this one by.

Rating: 0.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: v0 mp3
Label: Unsigned/Independent
Website: kapnas.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 30th, 2023

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Last time we met Cursed Excruciation, we were smack-talking sole member Trance of the Undead for his creatively titled main project Trance of the Undead. Blackened death to the core, it boasted just enough tasty dungeon synth-inspired keyboard abuse to add a flavor of old-school kvltness. On paper, it all sounded great; the problem was it just wasn’t, uh, good. Lack of variety met monotonous guitar tone with the same riff repeating ad nauseam for seven tracks. Aside from a serious bite that initially hit like a crowbar to the knees, the hype very quickly died out.

Well, imagine if Trance of the Undead thought brutality was soooo last week, removing all teeth and energy in favor of something sounding “ominous.” Let me introduce you to Cursed Excruciation. All of the signature Trance of the Undead moves are there: ghostly atmosphere, blackened reverb-laden shrieks, shreddy riffs, and occult-themed pummel. The issue is that any redeeming qualities of its former incarnation is removed in favor of weak riffs with embarrassingly forward, enthusiastically delivered black metal vocals. In trve fashion, the diabolism feels more excruciating while the tired tricks seem unforgivably arcane.

Across forty-four minutes of unspectacular to outright boring blackened death, the only track that contains any semblance of memorability is “Daughters of Nyx,” which features a tasteful little death/doom groove before beating it to death for a six-minute runtime. To his credit, Trance of the Undead does a good job balancing the worst of black and death metal like that of his main project. The guitar tone features a dense yet scathing tone that carries weight and aptly shreds, while its keyboard presence provides ghostly tendrils of icy melody.

It’s just a goddamn shame that Arcane Diabolism offers no songwriting chops and does nothing with its otherwise tolerable potential. Cursed Excruciation dwells in mid-tempo riffs, caught like toilet paper in the odorous perineum between death/doom and blackened death that commits to neither. While poor songwriting was masked by blasting intensity in Chalice of Disease, our bud Trance of the Undead removes all facades of quality by slowing down the tempo and putting its vocal attack more front and center, central riffs furthermore becoming the only riffs for six-minute-plus runtimes. As such, it is nearly impossible to discern between tracks; for instance, “Initiation” and “The Sorcerer of Antioch” feature the same minor progression, while the tremolo of “Beast of Fire” sounds identical to “Goetic Glorification.” Chord progressions are drilled into the brain in the worst ways, a scorching headache rather than a metallic earworm, as any and all chords, melodies, and progressions are beaten to death with no variation. The vocal performance, in spite of Trance of the Undead’s versatility, feels raw in an embarrassing fashion. With Trance of the Undead, like its weak songwriting, the vocals were buried behind a blasting intensity that at least sounded tolerable. Cursed Excruciation strips the instrumentation, revealing an embarrassingly enthusiastic performance in the name of kvlt kred, hitting rock bottom in protracted excursions of eight-minutes-plus in “Initiation” and “Black Altar Sacrifice.” To add insult to injury, the bookend intro “The Call” and outro “The Rapture” are painful excursions of cringeworthy vocals and droning dungeon synth sprawls.

While the sonic palette could ideally work in the same way that Trance of the Undead worked sorta worked remained tolerable, Cursed Excruciation is far too similar for its own good, while somehow being way worse. While its mother project did a decent job masking bad songwriting with blackened death intensity, Arcane Diabolism reveals all its flaws with an unflinching stare.¹ Foregoing on any semblance of brutality entirely, Trance of the Undead’s biggest flaw is that Cursed Excruciation is stuck between being a bad knockoff of his main project and offering the most uneventful blackened death metal on the planet. In the name of poorly executed menace, its offensively boring debut overstays its welcome with embarrassing kvlt enthusiasm with nothing to back it. I wasn’t hoping to start 2023 with something this cursed and excruciating, but here we are.

Rating: 0.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Website: tranceoftheundead.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: January 13th, 2023

The post Cursed Excruciation – Arcane Diabolism Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Let’s back up a bit. Ajna is the sophomore album from Ecuadorian trinity, Minipony. Yes, that’s their real name. No, I don’t know where it comes from, and by this point, I’m simply too exhausted to try to find out. Ostensibly technical death metal, their music deals with respect for animals and the effects of violence on the human consciousness. Or something. I say “ostensibly tech death” because there really is very little that is technical about the music Minipony plays. It is an ungodly amalgamation of jittery nu-metal, lead-pipe-rigid djent, groove, and… techno? I dunno. Every time I listen to it, something else unpleasant jumps out. All this is then mashed together with the subtlety of a Holdeneye bowel movement. If it sounds messy, that’s because it is. But hang on, dear reader: we haven’t even scratched the surface of what makes Ajna such a uniquely bad listening experience.

Nothing—and I mean nothing—can prepare you for the ungodly mess that are the vocals on this album. The rapid style shrieks and growls courtesy of Emilia Moncayo sound like a small animal was fed MDMA, slowly strangled, and its death wails fed through an auto-tune with every knob and reverb setting pushed to 11. I understand that she is trying to channel the sounds of animals and nature, but honestly, it feels about as natural as an oil spill. They detract from the music (which, in retrospect, may have been intentional). Her growls are fine, but it’s when she goes high, or yelps (which occurs frequently) that it all falls apart. The apotheosis is the aforementioned “Song For Fiona,” which lurches from falsetto to growl and back again so quickly and bizarrely that I couldn’t stop laughing, which cut short my train trip and made me late. Not only that, but my long-suffering partner later told me that if I ever played it aloud again, I would be sleeping on the couch. Her eyes told me she wasn’t joking.

The song structures are not much better. Almost all the songs begin with a tiny fragment of a riff which is then bludgeoned to death mercilessly beneath the wails. There is no development. No progression. No dynamism. Just repetition. They make the “Baby Shark” song look like a compositional masterpiece. Tracks just lurch forward towards a hysterical cacophony before the band picks a spot at random to end the torment. Even the promising cuts like “Irresponsable” (sic) and “Ajna”—which have the semblance of a riff to build on—ultimately go nowhere and become tiresome very quickly.

I’m going to stop now. Minipony are a small band, and it doesn’t do them any good to continue tearing Ajna apart. If we’re going to focus on the positives, at least this was an original (I guess?) listening experience. I certainly won’t forget this one in a hurry. It’s not often my slightly cynical ears are unable to compute what they’re hearing. But I honestly struggled to get through it. Minipony needs to rethink their entire approach if they’re to be anything other than a punchline. I suspect, it’s too late.

Rating: 0.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Subsound Records
Websites: miniponyband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/miniponyofficial
Releases Worldwide: June 24th, 2022

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Sickseed’s Bandcamp summary provides that the group has experimented with most sounds within metal since early 2000s and I can believe it. You’ll hear influences from a number of subgenres on Goregeous, but those heard most frequently include deathcore and black metal. “Facehugged” is an irregular example of the latter of these controlling the former, but the songs are more typically the other way around. They prioritize the chugs, grooves and hyper-modern production of deathcore, but occasionally break into thinner, blacker moments. It’s unfortunately and instantly evident from the opener called “Redrum” that these 2 styles are not satisfactorily enmeshed. Its blackened death introduction quickly transitions into a slamming groove which quickly transitions back to the introduction which quickly transitions into a differing slamming groove. Each of these passages feels disconnected from the one before, including the first which bluntly begins without any semblance of build-up.

There are just a couple of deviations from the deathcore/black metal norm. “Book of the Dead” features some unexpected but not unwelcome symphonic touches around its chorus, while “Personal Hell” offers a brief breakdown with clean vocals. However, these fleeting moments stand out for sounding a little different, rather than their quality. The faux choir sounds cheap while the clean vocals are shaky. All they do is prove the rule that most of these songs are completely indistinguishable from one another. I tested commencing listening from various random points throughout Goregeous and was unable to correctly identify the songs I was listening to despite several concerted listens.

“Redrum” is the first marker that the songwriting here is haphazard at best, aggravating at worst. Passages chop and change far too frequently, inhibiting identification and engagement with particular leads or melodies, and the over-arching song structures do little to help this. There are choruses on a few tracks but only that on “Book of the Dead” is remotely notable. However, most tracks just meander through 3- to 5-minute run-times, switching up riffs every 15 seconds. “Cursed By She” makes the mistake of featuring a vaguely impressive transition but the lead following the apex of the change is so short that it’s impossible to enjoy. And the clean breakdown on “Personal Hell” offers a welcome reprieve before what I thought would be its climactic concluding passage – but it then includes an additional minute of fluff after this.

Despite its frequent change, Goregeous is a relentless, flat, loud battery of noise. The ephemeral fragments of enjoyment do not overcome an overwhelming majority which I strongly dislike. I wasn’t just depressed, but also angry listening to it. Sessions of more than 10 minutes were impossible to stomach and I required breaks – not to regain focus, but to give myself a rest from aggravation. I absolutely cannot recommend Sickseed or their gorerendous record.

Rating: 0.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps MP3
Label: Self-released
Websites: facebook.com/sickseed | sickseed.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 10th, 2022

The post Sickseed – Goregeous Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

For a relatively young genre, metal has found its fair share of adherents who quickly discovered their musical niche and haven’t budged from that sound. While this applies to both listeners (I’ll proudly wave the tattered OSDM banner until the day I die) and practitioners, it’s most noticeable with new and emerging bands not only harken back to a particular sound, but actively refuse to grow beyond it. Much like the Vogons in the immortal tome

“Second wave shattering”? No. Second wave worshiping? Absolutely. Like so many black metal albums that overflow the fetid AMG promo sump, Natural Selection is chock full of tremolos, shrieked vocals, blast beats and lower-fi production. In short, you find what you’ve come to expect from the countless black metal fiends who so eagerly ape the masters. Viserion even mention Mayhem, Darkthrone, and Behemoth as influences in their promo material. And there’s nothing wrong with that approach, per se. As many reviewers here will attest, sometimes the most satisfying listen can be found when new bands solidly tread old ground. If this were the case with Natural Selection, you’d no doubt spot a higher score at the bottom of this review. Unfortunately, what you’ll find on Viserion’s latest isn’t merely uninspired black metal; It’s uninspired black metal poorly presented, sloppily performed and embarrassingly executed.

Something went terribly wrong on Natural Selection. Not a single one of these seven tracks feels like a fully-fledged, fleshed-out song, and instead seem like a collection of disjointed pieces haphazardly crammed together. The lack of even basic transitions give all the songs a halting quality that would be hard to overcome, even in the presence of quality riffs (which they aren’t). Opening track “Desolation” makes this problem obvious at the outset, closing with an unexpected, yawn-and-you-miss-it fade out. The out-of-sync drumming on “Tortured Souls” makes its over five-minute run time unbearable, and “Vaporized” features uncomfortably moaned vocals that sound like Bub from Day of the Dead took a turn on the mic. Titular track “Natural Selection” includes some of the clumsiest guitar work Viserion has to offer, with a drum track that sounds like it was recorded for a completely separate album. Like many of the other problems apparent on “Natural Selection,” the incongruous drumming is both persistent and terminal.

It’s hard to find anything particularly positive to share about this album. I suppose there is something to be said for Viserion’s willingness to produce a work completely beholden to, as they put it, “black metal’s most fertile and explosive period — the early to mid-1990s.” Since early 2020, during these tumultuous and uncertain times, many bands found renewed inspiration and sought refuge in music as a creative outlet. Maybe there’s something morbidly admirable about actively refusing to grow in the face of such dramatic cultural shifts, and instead choosing to copy a sound established nearly three decades ago. If you’re going to put nostalgia above creativity, your final product needs to, at the very least, reach the level of what came before. And on Natural Selection, its clear that the band simply don’t have the abilities to pull that off.

I never feel good about writing a negative review. I genuinely want to enjoy every album I dredge out of the swampy promo pit. That discomfort goes double for the extremely low score I doled out here. But after repeat listens and some significant soul-searching, I couldn’t bring myself to go any higher. While the black metal basics are present, everything else, from the performances, to the songwriting to the mix, I found overwhelmingly lacking. I’m not sure where Viserion go from here, but if Natural Selection is a preview of things to come, I worry they’re dangerously close to extinction.

Rating: 0.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: instagram.com/viserion_official | viserion.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 13th, 2021

The post Viserion – Natural Selection Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Hello there! Hope you are enjoying the sunny weather in scenic California, and thank you for submitting Contemporary Tragedy, the second full-length (and third release) from your one-man post-hardcore outfit, These Colors Fade. Going from the supplied materials that accompanied your submission, Contemporary Tragedy took over 800 hours to write, perform, produce, and mix. That’s an impressive feat! More and more, we’re seeing talented one-person bands crop up out of the woodwork, going toe-to-toe with the heavyweights in contemporary metal music. With the costs of production and promotion starting to drop considerably, there’s never been an easier time to record, mix, and promote your music. Normally, I welcome such endeavors with open arms, as we could have another An Isolated Mind on our hands. But after spending some time with Contemporary Tragedy, well… let’s have a little chit-chat, shall we?

One thing that stands out to me is the description given in the album’s bio that Contemporary Tragedy “blurs the lines between progressive metal, avante garde, and abstract thought.” It’s a brilliantly lofty way of saying that nothing is in time, nor in tune, with each other. Opener “Contemporary Tragedy I: Our Last Breaths” showcases this factoid as a perfectly harmless keyboard melody is then, for whatever reason, smashed into pieces by badly mixed and performed guitars, bass, and drums, which all seem hellbent and determined to eliminate each other Royal Rumble-style before returning to said keyboards. A single out-of-place strummed electric guitar string hollowly rings out, signifying the end without once building up to anything. At that moment, I was hoping that things would turn out better.

Things did not turn out better. From immediate follow-up “Contemporary Tragedy II: Wax Reveries” on forward, it is a sharp downhill slalom, but with the added joy of breathy, out-of-tune vocals added to the mix. There’s no denying the passion on display, but cramming as many syllables as possible into a single poor, defenseless bar (“Contemporary Tragedy II: Wax Reveries”), screaming breathily for no reason (“Contemporary Tragedy III: Curtains Close”, “Of Salvation and Damnation”), and caterwauling like Pallbearer’s Brett Campbell suffering from a severe case of both influenza and boredom (all of it) isn’t going to make the off-key, off-time, “progressive, avante garde” primordial soup of pain any better. In fact, the only part of the album that’s somewhat listenable is during the middle of “The Art of Burning a Memory,” where you happened to find a long-lost Disturbed riff, and threw it in without any context or warning. That’s the closest thing to coherent fluidity in terms of songwriting to be found throughout the entire album.

But the biggest tragedy to be found, however, is the mix. Drums are hopelessly buried beneath a horrific, victor-free war of attrition between tinny guitars and a bass that can’t follow along to the beat. Your vocals sit on top of everything, as do the keyboards. Speaking of those keyboards, somehow, during the middle of “A Cerulean Tomb,” at around the 2:09 mark, you managed to make keyboards painful. Never in my time as a writer or a music listener have keyboards ever been physically painful before, and for that, I’m actually impressed. But by the time “Contemporary Tragedy IV: Alternate Reveries,” which is an acoustic version of “Contemporary Tragedy II: Wax Reveries” that literally no one asked for, came to a complete stop, I was happy to be off of the musical equivalent of Mr. Bones’ Wild Ride. That said, I had to give it three more listens before formulating this letter to you, just to be fair.

And here’s where we’re at now, Keelan, and this is not going to be easy by a long shot. There’s no denying you’re an ambitious musician and producer. However, steps need to be taken. Vocal and music lessons can only help you. Listen to your favorite bands, and notice how they construct their songs. Pay attention to their flow and structure. Also pay attention to your own production and mixing, especially your volume control. Above all, if it takes you 800 hours to come up with something that sounds like this, take some more time to fine-tune, correct, tighten, and above all make your music actually listenable. That’s so incredibly important because, as it stands, Contemporary Tragedy is exactly that.

I wish you nothing but the best in your future endeavors.

Respectfully,

-G.

Rating: 0.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: thesecolorsfade.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/thesecolorsfade
Releases Worldwide: January 29th, 2021

The post These Colors Fade – Contemporary Tragedy Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

“Rising Rage,” as apt a title as you’ll find, is deceptive. The intro features some initial promise, tucked somewhere in its thick axe surge and ear-shattering snare smashes. Seven Dimensions sets a grand stage, replete with cheesy synth tones and straight-line chord-and-chug, leaving plenty of room for a surely virtuoso vocal performance. Can you smell it? The harmonization in the air? The brain-drain of everything noteworthy into the vox, with nothing but scraps left for the solos? As ripe as Raclette, that scent of vocal carpetbaggery. All of this, for a singer who cannot carry a tune. Surely, Joan Pabón’s vocal sins are greatest. More off-key than on and wildly inconsistent, his flat strain and awkward accent range his performance from infuriating to excruciating.

The rest of this tragedy isn’t far behind. Guitarist Gabriel Palermo, the only original member of the band remaining, often escapes notice as the vocal black hole sucks away all possible attention. When granted the spotlight though, Palermo’s own tragic solos command the entire stage: tepid (most), bizarrely out of place (playing Van Halen wannabe on “Destiny”), or downright atrocious (“Crying in the Rain”, awful even before flubbing notes). His solos instill almost as much fear as his shrill, out-of-tune string bends. Good thing you’re guaranteed several of each per song! Even Denis Scheither’s starter-pack synth tones get stuck in there, terrorizing “Darkest of My Days” and “Forevermore” with uncomfortable solo passages of its own. Still, that may be preferable to the rest of Scheither’s performance. His keys float in and out of the record, content to vaguely haunt the guitar¹ with suspect timing and off-kilter noodles that often sound like they’re meant for a different song—or band.

The writing problems spin out past individual performances and into regular moments of instrumental repulsion. The whole band make it onto the same satisfying page only a handful of times, and briefly at that. The strongest moment comes in the form of duet closer “Forces of Light,” where the band commits the cardinal sin of having a weak vocalist: putting him next to a better one. Zak Stevens (Circle II Circle, ex-Savatage) turns in a predictably strong performance on the ballad, rubbing Pabón’s face in it without trying. Scheither mercifully replaces Palermo in a lead piano role, and the song where Tragedian sounds nothing like Tragedian turns out to be the only one I like.

The production is certainly not spared in this bloodletting. Eike Freese’s oddball mix slots drums and guitars above the vocals, what should the main melodic driver. Add in the sense that the band recorded their instruments in different rooms, smash that into a squished master chock full of everything I’ve laid out here, and you’ve got arguably the worst record I’ve ever reviewed at AMG. And that too is odd, in a way. This technically isn’t Tragedian’s first attempt, not even close, though it is the first record for more than half the band (Pabón, Scheither, bassist Dawid Wieczorek). Still, the experience behind the personnel and the clear central vision should have translated to something better than this. With one or two fewer detractors—an improved solo, a stronger mix, anything—the record might suddenly become tolerable, if not plain old boring. But it all so completely and violently goes further off the rails with each passing minute that Seven Dimensions may be more apt a name than Tragedian, for the myriad varieties of suck therein. There aren’t enough tragedy puns in the English language to properly describe this one.

Rating: 0.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Pride & Joy Music
Websites: tragedian.bandcamp.com | tragedian.com | facebook.com/tragedianhamburg
Releases Worldwide: January 9th, 2021

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