sunyata - mindful of metal

Beaten To Death - Xes And Strokes (Mas-Kina Recordings, 2011)

2012-02-02T06:28:00.000-05:00

I drooled a bit over Beaten To Death's delectable debut album at Metal Injection. Expect some melodic sauce on a bed of spastic grinding death-punk. Delicious.

King Giant - Dismal Hollow (Graveyard Hill/The Path Less Traveled, 2012)

2012-01-19T08:43:00.000-05:00

I've been rocking the fuck out, constantly, to King Giant's new LP. Check out my review of Dismal Hollow over at Metal Injection.

Mollusk - Mollusk (Pact Ink Records, 2012)

2012-01-11T22:54:00.001-05:00

I wrote about Mollusk's debut album over at Metal Injection. It's a pleasing pile of aromatic, doomed sludge. There's a bandcamp stream there as well. Do it.

Horrendous - The Chills (Dark Descent, 2012)

2012-01-03T06:18:00.001-05:00

Horrendous have put out a massive, preposterous debut LP. Start off your year with some righteous death. My review is up at Metal Injection.

Submit to the Bits

2012-01-01T10:30:00.000-05:00

2011 is the year I came to terms with the inevitable decline of physical media. I’m behind the curve on this, but my worship of audio fidelity, physical portability and consumer freedom have held me back. Three factors have changed my curmudgeonly, compact disc hoarding ways: Bandcamp, Google Music and cheap hard disk space.

I’m never going to pay money for compressed music; it’s as simple as that. You’ll never get me to pay a cent for an MP3 file. I listen to music in four discrete scenarios: in Hi-Fi on the home stereo, on a portable digital music player while commuting, in the car, and at work. If I buy music, I expect to own it in the highest possible fidelity. Bandcamp enables this by selling music in the open source, lossless FLAC format. With a FLAC version of an album, I can burn it to CD with no loss of quality (covering the home and car scenarios, for the time being). I can also convert FLAC to any compressed format I desire without the usual cross-encoding degradation. I’m a big fan of the open source Ogg Vorbis format, so my portable music player (iAudio 7, at the moment) is filled up with those files. FLAC makes my music collection future-proof.

Google Music has drastically changed my listening habits at work. Instead of being stuck with the same set of albums on my portable device all day, I have my entire music collection in front of me. For all intents and purposes, Google Music looks exactly like my CD racks. Google Music did, however, force me to convert all of my music to 320 kbps MP3 files. Since I already had my music in FLAC, this was a triviality of CPU horsepower and disk space.

Sure, I still like to sit and admire the loaded, looming CD racks in my living room. But my house isn’t getting any bigger, and my hard drives are. Despite the best efforts of flooding in Thailand, hard drive space is still ridiculously cheap. I’m now able to store my entire music collection in three formats and back it all up correctly. Yes, I’m a bit loony.

Somewhere in the confluence of these factors, I made a mental leap. I started to regard my “music collection” as something greater than the physical shelves of CDs. The bits are ubiquitous enough to have changed my idea of ownership. I now feel just as comfortable buying an album from Bandcamp as I do purchasing a CD.

I’m never going to get rid of my CD collection, and I certainly won’t stop buying them; I probably just won’t buy quite as many. Now the rest of the record labels just need to get a clue and sell music through Bandcamp; my dollars are waiting.

As an aside, this excellent blog is an incredibly useful, ongoing summation of all the metal to be found on Bandcamp.

Botanist - I: The Suicide Tree / II: A Rose from the Dead (tUMULt, 2011)

2011-12-23T22:47:00.001-05:00

I’m entirely enamored of the hammered dulcimer. The instrument sounds like the mutant offspring of a piano, harpsichord and harp. Botanist employs the instrument’s powers for evil; it’s a refreshing and ingenious idea. The band crafts twisted black metal in which the hammered dulcimer replaces guitars altogether. The results exceed all possible expectations. Botanist’s ambitions, however, don’t end with this sonic switcheroo; the music is augmented with a vicious, verdant lyrical narrative.

Botanist doesn't possess any of the somnambulant torpor of the “world” and “new age” music that usually features the hammered dulcimer; these are fucking sinister compositions. Botanist is the brain child and product of one enigmatic man bearing the pseudonym Otrebor. He accompanies these manic orchestrations with well trained beats and blasts, overlaying it all with a crepitating croak.

The most stunning aspect of these songs are the riffs. Each track is filled with distinctive and memorable musical phrases that ebb and flow with sonic tension. Creeping, chromatic formations battle with abject dissonance and fascinating harmony. Vibes of victory, loss and sorrow take to life, enveloping the listener in a sylvan cocoon. The hammered dulcimer is produced with perfect clarity, making excellent use of the stereo field to transmit its staccato tintinnabulations.

Otrebor's drumming prowess imbues the hammered dulcimer with a particular vehemence. The peculiar synergy of blastbeats and hammered strings radically rethinks black metal's tremolo picked raison d'être. Botanist unmoors a staggering raft of rhythms; I'm repeatedly inclined to bang my head to this music.

Tossing orthodoxy to the wind, Botanist ably embodies black metal's chaotic ethos. Otrebor's saurian vocal ministrations convey only the utmost misanthropy. Infinite care is given to the meticulous, poetic lyrics, which detail the constituents of The Botanist's Verdant Realm. The eponymous character tends his flock of deadly flora as if they were family. With melancholy and hatred, our narrator eagerly awaits the annihilation of mankind. It's unclear whether or not he'll personally participate in the impending holocaust.

Don't fear this new horizon of sound; Botanist has produced something coherent, compelling and crucial. Botanist's music won't please all ears, but don't discount these xenomorphic anthems without due diligence and an open mind. Do beware the gorechid.

91/100

I bought the gorgeously packaged double album from Aquarius Records. You can stream both discs in full over at Brooklyn Vegan.

Vore - Gravehammer (Self Released, 2011)

2011-12-16T23:54:00.000-05:00

My review of the new Vore album, Gravehammer, is posted at Metal Injection over here. Behold glorious death metal devastation.

My Year in Metal, 2011 – Ten Favorite Albums

2011-12-13T12:30:00.001-05:00

It's time for me add to the year-end list pile. Metal Injection has posted my ten favorite LPs of 2011 over here. As usual, longer lists may follow in this space, including favorite EPs and concerts. Or not. I may have already moved into the future.

Death - November 14th, 1998 - Coney Island High, NYC

2011-12-12T21:03:00.000-05:00

I discovered Death shortly after discovering death metal in 1993. I spun Individual Thought Patterns for many a moon, loving it like only a teenage dude could. I love it to this day. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see Death live until halfway through college, when they hit New York on tour for The Sound of Perseverance.

My recollections of the concert are spotty but poignant. Hammerfall opened, experiencing extensive technical difficulties. Curfews meant absolutely nothing to Coney Island High, so the show was simply delayed indefinitely. It was late in the night when Chuck Schuldiner and company took the stage, and the crowd was intoxicated beyond belief. With the opening notes of “The Philosopher,” the subterranean deathtrap erupted into an absolute melée.

My clearest memories of that night are of Chuck Schuldiner’s stage banter. He seemed proud of the beastly, visceral crowd reaction to his musical legacy, but he was also annoyed by our violence. Chuck asked the crowd to calm down, or at the very least stop crowdsurfing into his microphone, which had smacked him repeatedly in the face.

The performance, in my mind, was legendary. Chuck’s band of the moment was spot-on, ripping through a setlist that highlighted the latter end of Death’s catalog. I remember particular ecstasy as Chuck and Shannon Hamm traded iconic solos in “Trapped in a Corner.” Chuck himself was a wondrous dynamo of ease, shredding, shrieking and smiling, all executed without the least bit of effort.

The insane audience looms large in my memories of that night. I have no idea how I managed to capture any pictures; life-threatening danger must certainly have been involved. I do recall complete, utter and total vehemence as “Zombie Ritual” closed out the set. The crooked smile on Chuck’s face during that bedlam is burned into my brain.

Rest in peace, Chuck.

Inquisition, Disma, Agrath – December 2nd – The Studio at Webster Hall, NYC

2011-12-05T22:40:00.001-05:00

Black metal doesn't always translate well to a live setting. When it does, the resulting atmosphere is rarely jubilant. Friday night, however, had a celebratory aura. Inquisition and Disma sport diametrically opposed sounds, but the low and slow played incredibly well against the rapid and ripping. By the end of the evening my face hurt as much as my neck; you aren't supposed to smile so much at metal shows.

I descended into Webster Hall's basement half-way through Agrath's set. The subterranean space was jampacked with humanity; this tremendous bill flushed all manner of folk from the woodwork. Agrath's orthodox take on black metal was sonically pleasing if not terribly original. The outstanding rhythm section, however, whet my appetite for annihilation.

Disma are acquiring a rabid fan-base. The band's amiable, ordinary Jersey-guy vibe is particularly endearing. Then, of course, there's the music. Disma's crepitating old-school death expectorations are easy to appreciate. Excellent sound conveyed the crawling, crushing immensity of their songs especially well on this night. The sweltering crowd ate up the set, reciprocating the pulverizing intensity with appreciative howls. “Chasm of Oceanus” spawned a lively, communal slow motion headbang. The entire room experienced an involuntary, synchronized catharsis; the image is blissfully burned in my mind. During the slowest instrumental moments, Craig Pillard would crouch down on the stage with an agonized look on his face; it appeared as if he could barely contain the demons that his vocals unleash. The crowd was more than willing to devour those growling apparitions. Absolutely righteous.

This was my first taste of the live Inquisition experience. I was braced for disappointment; I've learned to reign in overactive optimism in my old age. The band's music is a thesis in majestic black metal mastery. Ominous Doctrines Of The Perpetual Mystical Macrocosm is one of last year's best albums (or this year's, or both). Would it work on stage? Yes, it did. Bedecked in meticulous corpse paint, the band spewed victory with every outburst of absurd, astral arpeggiation. The concise mix transmitted superb sonic fidelity; the duo produce an unbelievably huge sound. Dagon had a gorgeous, deep and shattering guitar tone; no tinny skinny here.

The crowd erupted into an immediate and massive melee for Inquisition's set. People seemed surprised by their own violent, rapturous reaction to the music. I was pummeled and quickly covered from head to toe in beer; it didn't matter one bit. Folks were crowd surfing, clutching shiny new Inquisition LP's in hand while being crushed up against the ceiling. Claws filled the air, squashing invisible oranges while simultaneously performing the venerable Suffo-chop in time to Incubus’ bludgeoning blastbeats. It's my new favorite metal gesticulation.

Dagon's reptilian vocals have a peculiar, melodic timbre that I'd never fully appreciated. This becomes more evident and essential on stage. Dagon also possesses a theatrical flair that recalls Abbath of Immortal. Yes, the comparison is all too easy, but it's apt. Having completely surpassed Immortal in quality, Inquisition are on the precipice of massive success. Judging by our goofy grins, windmilling hair and euphoric glee, they don't have far to go.

You can check out some pictures of the show here and here.

Best Music Writing 2011

2011-12-04T17:09:00.001-05:00

I’m very self-conscious of my writing. I work hard at it, probably too hard. The harder I work, the more over-the-top, absurd and overwrought my writing becomes. Sometimes, though, a review will just fall out of my head, fully formed, stream of consciousness. Those are probably my best pieces. If only it were always so easy.

I was shocked, to say the least, when Da Capo Press contacted me regarding my blog. They wanted to publish one of my concert reviews in Best Music Writing 2011. At first I thought I was being scammed (they would be paying me after all), but this was no joke. I had no idea what an honor it was to be so chosen, and I steadfastly refused to believe the whole thing would happen until the book was in my hands.

The book is in my hands, and on book shelves now. I’m incredibly grateful to my wife for editing everything I write with a discerning eye, and also to Jeanne Fury for helping make the whole thing happen. I’d also like to thank Wormrot, Defeatist, Mutant Supremacy, Psychic Limb and Curandera for helping me besmirch this book with metal. I’m damned proud.

Sulaco - Build and Burn (Handshake Inc., 2011)

2011-11-28T21:26:00.001-05:00

Sulaco's new album is an outstanding outburst of death-grinding madness; my review is published over at Metal Injection. This was my first attempt to limit an album review to 250 words, in keeping with the site's new edict. It was tough.

&amp;lt;a href="http://handshakeinc.bandcamp.com/album/sulaco-build-and-burn"&amp;gt;Sulaco Build and Burn by Sulaco&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;

Gaza, Defeatist, Tiger Flowers, Don't Give a Fuck – November 12th – The Acheron, Brooklyn

2011-11-22T22:49:00.001-05:00

The Acheron has undergone a bit of renovation since my last visit. In addition to fixing the egregiously broken toilet, the proprietors have blown out a wall to make room for a proper soundboard. Unfortunately, the newly asymmetrical space isn't any more visually appealing. In fact, the change somehow makes the cramped stage look even smaller. Half of the bands on this night eschewed said stage altogether, using it as a glorified drum riser while playing on the floor. Thankfully, the room's audio quality appears to have been augmented by the change. The result was a seething evening of sonic annihilation, mandatory crowd participation and a fuck-ton of fun.

Don't Give a Fuck caught me a bit off guard. Their amalgam of melodic, post-rock riffing and percussive hardcore extremity was a bit baffling at first. The duo scream in tandem over a cacophonous cauldron of noise. These guys don't peddle guitar wizardry or base brutality, but they do produce an entertaining sound. Matt Dillon's drumming was particularly impressive, especially when executed over simultaneous screams. The band are certainly worth checking out.

Tiger Flowers' self titled EP is revelatory; it makes good on the apeshit promise of the band's live prowess. I was righteously psyched to hear some of this new music live. I was not disappointed; the circle is complete. All of the punchy percussive mastery, melodic mysticism and pulverizing force of the band's recorded music was perfectly transmitted on this night. The stage was left entirely to the drum kit; the band raged in the midst of the crowd on the venue's concrete floor. Deprived of space to roam, Jesse Madre was forced to expend his infinite energy in compact bursts of ferocity. Howls of cathartic rage were deposited directly in our faces; we responded with smiles. No blood was spilled, but much fun was had. Tiger Flowers are very much worth witnessing in person. Don't say I didn't tell you.

Defeatist's new album is also their last; the band recently announced that they'll call it quits. This is an incredible shame; Tyranny of Decay is perhaps their best recorded work. This evening was one of their two last live performances. I've rambled on repeatedly about Defeatist's prowess, but this show topped them all. The new tracks were particularly distinctive on stage, displaying a bit of breathing room that accentuates the band's hypnotic modus operandi. Aaron Nichols' riffs had extra space to shine while Josh Scott and Joel Stallings dispensed the abstruse rhythmic rapine. Aaron's vomitous vocals dripped with an extra bit of bile; the end is nigh. Defeatist will be missed.

Gaza's last album, He is Never Coming Back, displayed devastating heaviness, made all the more sweet by the band's anti-religious fervor. Death and black metal bands may have cornered the market on Bible bashing, but Gaza's straight-faced fury makes those guys seem like jokers. The band were touring their way back home to Oregon, having just finished recording their next full-length with Kurt Ballou at his GodCity studio.

In person, Gaza are fucking unnerving. This was my first observance of the band's absurd live intensity. Vocalist Jon Parkin stood a head taller than the crowd on the floor, in the midst of which the band had set up. His screams were delivered with a terrifying conviction, his body swaying precariously, one arm raised in the air, directing his wayward flock of unbelievers. The flock ate it up, erupting into a room-wide pit of unholy jubilation that engulfed the band. Gaza produced an absolutely massive sound, surpassing the weighty sonic heft of their recorded material. The band's rhythm section threatened to tear the Acheron off of its foundation with tectonic force. I can't wait to hear what Kurt Ballou does with Gaza's music. I also can't wait to see them play again.

Taake - Noregs Vaapen (Candlelight, 2011)

2011-11-16T11:29:00.001-05:00

I take on Taake's tremendous Noregs Vaapen over here at Metal Injection. Rock out...

Obsequiae – Suspended In The Brume Of Eos (Bindrune Recordings, 2011)

2011-10-18T21:09:00.001-04:00

My review of Obsequiae's obscenely great debut LP is up at Metal Injection. Absolutely one of my favorite albums of the year. There's a full album stream along with the review.

Fuck the Facts - Die Miserable (Relapse, 2011)

2011-10-11T21:11:00.000-04:00

Die Miserable is mesmerizing. My review is up now at Metal Injection.

Infestus – E x | I s t (Debemur Morti, 2011)

2011-09-26T22:56:00.000-04:00

E x | I s t is a harrowing beast. The vocals and lyrics tell a tale of crushing hopelessness, chronicling one man's descent into sickness, despair and the void of insanity. The music tells another tale altogether. The word 'epic' has been overused and abused as a metal adjective, but every once in a long while it's the best descriptor for an album. E x | I s t earns that distinction. E x | I s t is grand in scale, possessing the dynamic character of a symphony without employing any of the Stilton-streaked devices of “symphonic” metal. Infestus unfurl a warm, nuanced and swarming breed of black metal that's utterly engrossing. E x | I s t plays out in diverse, memorable movements of melancholy, misanthropy and rage, marked by an abundance of mind-melting riffs. Melodic themes are visited and revisited, revealing a deep attention to compositional detail and a fount of songwriting skill.

Improbably, E x | I s t is composed and performed entirely by one man. Andras plays every instrument on the album with eminent skill. He draws from diverse influences to manifest this master-course in interesting music. Tireless, teeming tremolations are accompanied by constantly distinctive, purposeful leads. Blastbeats and outre arpeggiations evoke the stranger aeons of Bergraven or Deathspell Omega. Opethian leads ride over stuttering, dark, thrashing polyrhythms and plodding dirges. Clean guitars are broken out in good measure, reminding me specifically of Opeth's early forays into progressive music. The album is crisply produced, featuring the the wide-open, resonant sound-field of a classical recording.

I've had E x | I s t in rotation for months; I'm repeatedly drawn into its disturbing and satisfying grasp. Infestus conjoin a unique, tenebrous atmosphere to the timbre of absolute madness; never has a psychological hell-ride been so enjoyable. E x | I s t is certainly one of the year's more astounding and disconcerting musical journeys.

90/100

Urfaust, Black Anvil, Krallice – September 17th – Union Pool, Brooklyn

2011-09-19T22:18:00.000-04:00

On paper, Urfaust are an absurd proposition. The Dutch duo play a doomy, mid-paced and droning breed of black metal, over-topped by operatic, howling male vocals, in German (I think). The unlikely result is an intoxicating and addictive perfection. Due in part to their friendship with members of Black Anvil, Urfaust made the journey to the United States for the brief “Rites of Alcoholic Darkness” tour. Union Pool was packed with drunken, adoring fans for the band's New York show.

I've been hearing from more and more Krallice detractors of late, who either prefer the band's earlier material or dismiss the band outright with “post” and “hipster” pejoratives. I'm still enjoying Diotima immensely; it's persisted in my playlist throughout the year. Based on the crowded room on Saturday, a good many people also enjoy the band's newer music, or were at least overcome with a morbid curiosity. Krallice played a relatively short, three song set, featuring two Diotima tracks. I'm still taken by the the physical intensity involved in playing this music live. As usual, Krallice performed with a mesmerizing, organic brilliance.

Black Anvil are a band I'm constantly rediscovering. I know I enjoy their music, but every time I throw on a Black Anvil album I'm shocked by its immediacy. This revelatory propensity also applies to the band's live performances. Black Anvil always play like they have something to prove; they're only satisfied with completely flattening a crowd. The first thing I noticed when they took the stage was the gut crunching glory of Gary Bennett's guitar tone; I love it. I started out standing directly in front of Paul Delaney, but he screamed and wielded his bass with such apoplectic dementia that I feared my skull would be split open. The excellent set tore tracks from both albums and accentuated Black Anvil's power to harness riffs and rhythm in the name of malignity.

Stripped down to their essence, removed from keyboards, vocal reverb and choruses, Urfaust are an incredible live band. They may be one of the very few bands that sound better in person than on tape. Plugged into Black Anvil's rig, the guitars were sparse and gorgeous, as was the mix from the soundboard. IX's vocals were clear, strong and magnificently in key. When he let loose his signature howl, its unhinged glory begged us to respond in kind like wolves. The banter was kept to a minimum, although at one point IX dedicated a song to Peter Steele, calling him the band's single greatest influence. This explains a lot and also elicited a raucous response from the audience, as you can imagine.

The crowd was surprisingly vehement, singing along (in German?!), screaming, shoving drunkenly and raising many a beer in tribute to Urfaust. Although IX was remarkably subdued on stage, drummer VRDRBR rode his kit with a restless, punk rock rage. Never has a rudimentary beat been so viciously eviscerated. Even while keeping an eye on the crowd's soccer hooligan antics, I smiled throughout the entire set. Urfaust for strength.

Justina V also has a fantastic set of photos from the tour here.

Tiger Flowers - Tiger Flowers EP (The Path Less Traveled, 2011)

2011-09-19T15:39:00.000-04:00

I posted a review of Tiger Flowers' debut EP at Metal Injection. This thing kicks my ass. You can stream it right here:

&amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://thepathlesstraveledrecords.bandcamp.com/album/tiger-flowers"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Tiger Flowers by Tiger Flowers&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;gt;

Heavy Rotation

2011-09-17T11:32:00.000-04:00


Botanist - I: The Suicide Tree / II: A Rose from the Dead

Tiger Flowers - S/T EP

Opeth - Heritage

False - S/T EP

Krallice - Diotima

Deafest - Through Wood and Fog EP

Defeatist - Tyranny Of Decay

Fuck the Facts - Die Miserable

Vader - Welcome to the Morbid Reich

Urfaust - Der freiwillige Bettler

Listen: (Bandcamp goodness below)

Untitled (FALSE) by FALSE

Through Wood and Fog EP by Deafest

Tyranny Of Decay by Defeatist

Revocation, Mutant Supremacy – August 20th – The Studio at Webster Hall, NYC

2011-09-13T22:45:00.000-04:00

Revocation don't fit neatly into metal's Venn diagram. They're not exactly death metal, and they're not exactly thrash. They don't dabble in the “taking it seriously” world of cvlt credibility, but they don't belong to the djentified morass of “modern” metal. These distinctions matter little to me; I simply enjoy the band's music. The ambiguous allegiances, however, ensure that a Revocation concert is a sociological Petri dish. Regardless of the diverse clientele at their shows, Revocation are monstrously entertaining on stage. The band recently visited New York in celebration of their newest album, Chaos of Forms. The captivating experience transcended any and all social concerns of the motley crowd; we were unified by metal.

I love me some Mutant Supremacy, and evidently I'm not alone. The Studio at Webster Hall was absolutely jammed with folks stoked on the sounds of old school death. Infinite Suffering was one of my favorite albums of 2010, and its distinctive tracks continue to rip in the live setting. Sam Awry and company blasted barbarically through a set of older songs and a handful of new ones that deserve an expeditious recording.

Despite the fury of the band and its fans, I couldn't help but be distracted by the sound. Webster Hall is frustratingly capable of both perfect audio transmission and awful muddy landslides of fuzz. Mutant Supremacy's set suffered from the latter, but no one in the seething crowd seemed to notice. Onward to Death.

My last live experience with Revocation was a rapturous affair that almost left me paralyzed. On that night the pit consisted only of myself and a couple of hapless drunkards. We had a great time while the rest of the crowd stood stock-still. The band have since found their audience, and Webster Hall was a writhing metal mass on this go-around. The PA was absurdly loud, but David Davidson's riffs cut a clear swath through the air.

Revocation seemed more reserved on stage for this performance, as if their self-consciousness has increased with their fame and fan-base. They shredded with abandon a year ago as if they had nothing to lose. Now the stakes are higher and the band seem to be working harder on audience interaction. The results were sometimes awkward, but never faulty or distracting.

The short headlining set focused on new compositions off Chaos of Forms, interspersed with an excellent helping of Empire of the Obscene and well worn tracks from Existence is Futile. Every riff and lead was executed with heart-stopping precision. It's easy to lose yourself in the Revocation live experience. The band induce a satisfying suspension of disbelief. I'm not standing in a room with a bunch of people listening to music, I'm experiencing an organic, transporting metal experience. Don't mind the air guitar, I can't help it.

Wormrot – Dirge (Earache, 2011)

2011-08-27T14:02:00.011-04:00

There will always be a place in my heart for Abuse, an album that revived my passion for grind and remained in constant rotation for two years. But as much as Abuse warms the cockles, Dirge has earned its keep. Insinuating itself into the interstices of my daily routine, Dirge has become the de facto soundtrack to 18 minute slices of my life. The album's treblier production and incisive riffs have the uncanny ability to cut through the din of commuter train drone, Manhattan street cacophony, subway roar and rumbling road noise. Dirge pushes punkier arrangements, chuggier chunks of distortion and some straight-up fistfuls of metal, dispensing a shocking jolt of adrenaline. Every time I crank this thing up, I feel as if I'm pissing on the proverbial electrified fence.

Rasyid seems to draw from a fathomless pool of essential grind riffage. His guitar work on Dirge remains intensely satisfying in delivery and diversity. I was slightly disappointed in the guitar tone on the album at first, but with time, I've grown to adore the bark of its mid-range distortion. These riffs intertwine synergistically with Fitri's absurd drumming to induce a feeling of falling continually down stairs, head first. Dirge is a maniacal rhythmic feast. Fitri's drumming remains primal, animalistic and inspired; he is the Keith Moon of grind in my mind.

Arif is a man of many voices, from porcine indigestion to wretchedly withered screams. He spews brilliant grind aphorisms throughout the album, constantly shifting tone in a dissociative downpour. Dirge's allure is magnified by its 'fuck off and die with a smile' attitude and brilliant lyrics. I can't count the number of times I've involuntarily screamed, “All go no emo!” while walking down the street; it's become a motivational mantra.

Abuse's magnificence was miraculous, its impact personal. Dirge's intensity is addictive, its effect a physical, utilitarian rage. Both are essential.

90/100

Earache is still offering Dirge as a completely free download here. Being a lover of plastic discs, I pre-ordered the CD before it came out.

Revocation - Chaos of Forms (Relapse, 2011)

2011-08-11T13:11:00.005-04:00

I posted a review of the ripping new Revocation album over here at Metal Injection. It's ridiculously entertaining. Shred or die trying.

Disma, Coffinworm - August 16th - Saint Vitus Bar

2011-08-08T22:08:00.009-04:00

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been 96 days since my last metal show. Seriously. I broke that unfortunate streak on Saturday night by attending Disma's record release party for the titanic Towards the Megalith at Saint Vitus Bar. I was rewarded with superlative death of the old school and a surprisingly beastly set of bloodcurdling sludge from Coffinworm.

In the interregnum since I got a new job and fell off the face of the earth, Saint Vitus has risen to well deserved prominence in the New York metal scene. This well appointed bar and excellent concert space is situated in the northern wilds of Greenpoint, Brooklyn, on the very edges of civilization. As advertised, Saint Vitus is a “metal themed” drinkery, meaning metal is blasted so loudly in the bar area that any meaningful conversation is impossible. This is precisely what the clientele desire. The modest backroom (measuring roughly 2 ½ Brooklyn basements) is perfectly sized for a wide array of underground shows and features fantastic sound and views. I arrived at the end of a thundering set from the freshly unretired Unearthly Trance and found the space packed to the gills with a who's who of Brooklyn metal.

Coffinworm's When All Became None is an album that's grown on me like a slime mold. Its viscous sludge pierced by blackened-doom vibe has been hitting the spot repeatedly of late. I'm happy to report that the band and their tunes stand up well in person; in fact, they destroy. The vocalist's wretched scream and evident metalborne madness is a perfect foil to the lumbering annihilation of these tunes. In addition to fine cuts off When All Became None, we were treated to a new track (video below) that portends of good things to come from Coffinworm.

Judging by the packed room and jubilant atmosphere, Old School Death Metal is the shit, and Disma are riding the throne. I saw Disma destroy the stage last year when they opened for Immolation. Their live show was a sight to behold. At that time I had only recently acquired their cassette demo, The Vault of Membros; it hasn't left my tape deck ever since. Towards the Megalith is another story altogether. Riding a huge wave of hype, I had a bit of trouble absorbing its dense deathiness. But I've since accepted its bludgeoning goodness into my bowels, and I was excited to hear this music live.

Craig Pillard is a death metal legend, and he lived up to that billing on Saturday night. The unassuming guy belted out gurgling growls of the highest order and the crowd (including myself) ate it up. Hair was flying, necks were wrecked and a truckload of oranges were juiced. The band ably rode the fine line between taut mechanization and flailing destruction; I'd expect nothing less from such a prestigious assemblage of musicians. Towards the Megalith was played in order until the curfew cut it short, but that couldn't dampen the crowd's rabid enthusiasm. These songs were made to be played live; it was a pleasure having them rammed down our throats.

Flourishing - The Sum of All Fossils (The Path Less Traveled, 2011)

2011-07-31T21:22:00.005-04:00

The new Flourishing album is astounding and addictive. My besotted review of The Sum of All Fossils is available here at Metal Injection.

&amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://thepathlesstraveledrecords.bandcamp.com/album/the-sum-of-all-fossils"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;The Sum of All Fossils by Flourishing&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;gt;

Cloud Connected - Fun With Google Music Beta

2011-07-26T21:13:00.012-04:00

I'm currently nursing a love/hate relationship with Google music beta. Grueling days at the new job sting a bit less with my entire music collection at hand. Unfortunately, uploading 9000 files to Google's cloud service took several excruciating weeks (a story for another time). Although the web interface has decent features, it's still unpleasantly rough and exhibits all the frayed edges of a beta. About half the albums are missing their art, and some display hilariously wrong covers.

(The cover for With Fear I Kiss The Burning Darkness shows Smoky Mountain Christmas. "Raped By the Light of Christ" indeed.)

But it works, and it plays my music with the desired fidelity (I'm a stickler for audio quality). The playlist below was my accompaniment to a particularly gruesome work day. The songs were randomly culled from the metal/punk portion of the music collection.

And yes, I'm on Spotify (you can follow me under the name "atanamar"). And yes, Spotify rules. And no, you can't find all of this music on Spotify (32 of the 52 tracks are available in the U.S. version; you can see that abbreviated playlist here). But Spotify is also a story for another time.

Blut Aus Nord - 777 - Sect(s) (Debemur Morti, 2011)

2011-06-24T22:48:00.004-04:00

The new Blut Aus Nord album is absurd and amazing. My review of 777 - Sect(s) is published over here at Metal Injection.

Batillus – Furnace (Seventh Rule, 2011)

2011-06-14T22:18:00.003-04:00

I don't always see eye to eye with doom. The music has to have to some fiery flavor to keep me awake, engaged and interested. Batillus bring the basting brush and a bucket of homemade sauce to the BBQ, liberally lathering the doom in pungent riffs and spicy, memorable minutia.

Furnace's rhythmic diversity helps to hold me rapt throughout its 44 mammoth minutes. The often lumbering gait is by no means a sign of indolent torpor. Instead, the funereal pace serves to make every note count, make every riff heavy as fuck and every beat of the drums sound shatteringly intense. Batillus grasp the power of a gargantuan groove but don't abuse it as a device. Geoff Summers' percussive dexterity allows the band to incorporate an array of velocities, up to and including blistering blastbeats; his drumming is superlative.

Batillus revel in the doom but are no means confined by it. Riffs occasionally stray into melodic, tangy post-whatever radiance, leaving behind the tenebrous gloom, if only for a moment. Sparse but wisely used keyboards add interstitial melody that I find mesmerizing. For the most part, though, Greg Paterson's riffs are a slug-fest of sludgy ardour, served up with irresistible finesse. These resounding intonations are filled with hooks that engender a delightful sense of delirium. Sandford Parker's production spotlights gorgeous, gurgling guitar tones and gives ample space to fathomless depths of Willi Stabenau's bass.

The lyrics are cryptic missives on failure, decay, suffering and pain. Fade Kainer's voice adds a searing edge to these doomed slabs, spewing irate rancor over the album's six tracks. His vocals hit all the right spots, perfectly interlocking with each song's rhythmic essence. I'll be damned if the chorus of “Deadweight” hasn't been lodged in my skull for months: “Fall on your knees, crushed by it all. Poisoned this mind, blackened a soul.” I think that just about says it all.

84/100

You can buy the physical LP here, buy it digitally here and stream the entire album below:

&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://seventhrule.bandcamp.com/album/furnace"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Furnace by Seventh Rule Recordings&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;

Tombs - Path of Totality (Relapse, 2011)

2011-06-07T21:45:00.003-04:00

I've risen from the dead and posted a review of the incredible new Tombs album over here at Metal Injection. Dive into it.

Enslaved - The Sleeping Gods EP (Scion AV, 2011)

2011-05-09T23:22:00.004-04:00

Scion A/V are putting out a new Enslaved EP, and I wrote a piece for Metal Injection to accompany their premier of a new track. It took half a year for Axioma Ethica Odini to sink in, but this EP slapped me right across the face and reminded me why I love this band. Check it out here.

Krallice - Diotima (Profound Lore, 2011)

2011-04-29T12:05:00.002-04:00

After digesting the new Krallice album for 4 months, I've finally coughed up a Metal Injection review over here. Incredible.

Negative Plane - Stained Glass Revelations (The Ajna Offensive/Invictus Productions, 2011)

2011-04-05T22:31:00.004-04:00

I posted a review (and stream) of this incredible album over here at Metal Injection. I went on a Lovecraftian bender.

Woods of Ypres, Gwynbleidd – March 16th – The Bowery Electric, NYC

2011-03-23T02:22:00.007-04:00

Woods of Ypres have been my frequent audio companions of late, and it was time to consummate the relationship with a live performance. I approached this show with a good bit of trepidation. Would the band's melodic take on blackened doom translate in person? Would David Gold be able to reproduce those dispiriting clean vocals on stage? Yes, and yes, thank you very much.

After local hard rock band MP Project (featuring Mike Pacheco of Mortal Remains) played a fun, competent, if not entirely incongruous set, Brooklyn's Gwynbleidd set up. I've heard their name floating around for a couple of years, but never managed to cross their path. The band's folky, melodic, deathy doom came across quite well, aided by excellent sound and an enthusiastic crowd. Gwynbleidd's performance betrayed a bit of rust, but that was quickly shaken off. Their music was appreciably well crafted, with Opethian flourishes that made for an impressive first listen. The set was comprised of material from the band's debut EP and most recent album, Nostalgia, in addition to a new track, captured below.

Woods of Ypres kicked off their set with the blistering and bouncy “Sham of Optimism,” from their debut EP, Against the Seasons. “Everything I Touch Turns To Gold (Then To Coal)” followed, showing that David Gold's deep, clean vocals convey the same vast desolation in person. Earache reissued the band's most recent LP, Woods 4 – The Green Album, and I was expecting a set heavy on its tracks (I sang the album's praises here). We certainly got a good helping of Woods 4 tracks, but we were also treated to a fine selection of older songs.

The band fired on all cylinders, producing a devastating, full and crunchy live sound. Evan Madden's drum performance was shockingly deft and energetic. His brother Shane pitched in screamed vocals on several tracks, demonically dominating the center of the stage. The nearly perfect sound helped convey an incredibly heavy atmosphere. The modest crowd seemed just as enthralled by the proceedings as myself, with many heads banging throughout the night.

Although partially obscured by darkness throughout the set, David Gold was clearly the ringleader of this morose metal machine. He churned out mesmerizing riffs while delivering pitch perfect melancholy and savage, inhuman screams. A rousing rendition of “Wet Leather” sounded particularly pessimistic. Woods 4 tracks such as “Pining (For You),” and “By The Time You Read This (I Will Already By Dead)” ran the full gamut of emotional annihilation. The incredible set showcased the paradoxical message inherent in these songs (that which does not kill you only makes you stronger). Interestingly, the band closed out the show with the the extended bellicose balladry of “A Meeting Place and Time,” from their debut EP. Repeated calls for “one more song” brought the band back out for a crushing encore of “Your Ontario Town is a Burial Ground.”

All of my questions regarding Woods of Ypres were affirmatively answered; they slay in person. I recorded audio of the set and have been listening to it repeatedly ever since. The show really was that good.

Drugs of Faith - Corroded (Selfmadegod Records, 2011)

2011-03-21T22:29:00.002-04:00

I posted a review of Corroded, the debut LP from Drugs of Faith, over here at Metal Injection. It grinds, it rocks, it kills.

Fuck the Facts, Psychic Limb, Radiation Blackbody, Swords of Chaos – March 13th – Cake Shop, NYC

2011-03-15T21:55:00.004-04:00

I'm developing a soft spot for shows at Cake Shop; the combination of coffee, cake and aural destruction just goes down easy. Also, I love early shows. On this evening, Fuck the Facts brought their tenth anniversary tour to town, unleashing their unique breed of bastardized grind upon an eager crowd in the Cake Shop's basement.

The first band to set up was the unassuming Swords of Chaos, straight out of Reykjavik. The show was part of the band's maiden American tour and first stop on their road to South By Southwest. A quick glance at the Swords of Chaos Myspace page before the show revealed a claim that “subliminal aural contradictions leave the masses perplexed.” The band certainly brought the contradiction, playing an eclectic blend of hardcore tinged with odd melody and rampaging rock. I was, however, much more impressed than perplexed by the band's performance. A baritone guitar stood in for bass, giving the music an oddly proggy bent. Chaos was also well represented, with the vocalist screaming up a storm while running through and around the crowd during the set. A couple of tracks featured well executed clean singing that I'd call out of place, but I think that was the point. All told, it was a fun set and a band worth checking out.

I've rhapsodized repeatedly about the rhythmic prowess of Joshua Scott and Joel Stallings (of Defeatist and the defunct Anodyne). As Radiation Blackbody, the duo let rip a ridiculously entertaining drum and bass blasting. I've found their self-titled (and freely available) LP to be a constant walking companion; the thing propels me like a battering ram. In person, this shit is just unbelievable. Joel Stallings is a draw-dropping drummer. Joshua Scott accompanies the percussive precision with rolling, rocking and ludicrous bass lines, all tinged with discernibly dissonant melody.

Psychic Limb are a fucking mystery; the band have zero internet presence. I saw them open for Wormrot in Brooklyn last year, where their unhinged, off-the-rails brand of grinding hardcore made quite an impression on the crowd. On that night it was difficult to discern exactly what was going on with their music, so I was looking forward to an up close and personal listening session.

Vocalist Brian Montuori is a living paroxysm, spilling splenetic screams all over the crowd while wantonly throwing his body around the room. The band tore through a set of blindingly fast tracks that speak of spastic chromatic riffs, crushing composition and rhythmic destruction. This is combustible and mesmerizing music that I'd love to hear in recorded form.

When Fuck the Facts played Cake Shop last year, I was blown away by their ferocious live show. This evening was even more impressive, as the band uncorked a stunning set of tracks spanning their entire career. Topon Das is an absolute beast on guitar; I have no idea where he gets these ideas and how he executes with such absurd precision. Although he seemed crammed into an uncomfortably miniscule spot on the stage, Mathieu Vilandre steered the band with indefatigable, flawless drumming. Mel Mongeon rampaged in all directions, screaming in eye-popping madness and enjoying every minute of abject invective. When he wasn't treating the crowd to incomprehensible Canadian jokes, Marc Bourgon towered above the band and audience, bellowing vocal fire and purveying barreling bass.

Excellent sound helped drive home the abstruse audio annihilation. Neck snapping grind was sewn together with moments of engrossing melody and infused with gallons of groove. I was particularly pleased to hear songs from Backstabber Etiquette and Stigmata High-Five, two albums I've been jamming a lot lately. Most importantly, I was hoping we'd get to hear some tunes from the band's upcoming LP, Die Miserable. The band obliged, closing out the set with two vicious new songs (one is captured below). Ears were annihilated and many facts were fucked; it was a great evening.

Woods of Ypres - Woods 4: The Green Album (Earache, 2011)

2011-03-08T20:54:00.004-05:00

Earache is re-issuing Woods of Ypres' most recent album, and I take the opportunity to rhapsodize about it here at Metal Injection. Woods 4 is one of my favorite albums in recent memory.

Weakling - Dead as Dreams (tUMULt, 2000)

2011-03-01T22:27:00.004-05:00

While I was away on an amazing vacation in Kaua'i, Metal Injection published my retrospective review of Weakling's Dead as Dreams here. I got gushy.

Naisian – Mammalian (Self Released, 2011)

2011-02-14T22:40:00.006-05:00

Discounting a year-long obsession with Hull's Sole Lord, my ears have drifted far afield from the world of sludgified post-metal. Naisian make me realize my musical tastes haven't completely moved on. Mammalian captures your consciousness with a bounty of engrossing riffs and concise compositions that don't devolve into background noise. Pulverizing waves of sludge are juxtaposed with ethereal progressive passages, and the results are frequently sublime. Miraculously, Naisian manage to sound neither derivative nor formulaic to my ears. Mammalian just keeps hitting the spot.

Loose and lumbering rhythms are matched to riffs that roil with a sloshing vehemence. The stuttering melodies never move with great dispatch, but keep on truckin’ in a curiously compelling dance. Aggregations of simple but mesmerizing riffs help Mammalian get trapped in the recesses of your memory. Soaring leads do a great job of accenting the swirling tonal undercurrents without ever overindulging.

The reverbed clean guitar passages weave waves of celestial melody, driven by the steadfast drums and throbbing bass; this isn't sleepytime music. These interludes aren't revolutionary in vision but are certainly captivating and never overstay their welcome. Some progified passages incorporate orchestral strings; this is tastefully done and avoids any noxious whiff of Stilton. Naisian don't have quite the calculated precision of a band like Isis, and they don't leave the massive footprint of Mastodon, but there's something compelling, memorable and original here all the same.

Dual vocals are delivered with varying degrees of growled gutzonborglum, narrating an eclectic set of esoteric tales. The breathless, staccato delivery frequently reminds me of Andrew Hock's apoplectic invective in Castevet. Clean vocals are skillfully broken out in very small measure, adding to the mixture without ruining an otherwise carefully balanced attack. The singing only oversteps its bounds in the extended title track, indulging in some wavering, wailing howls. It's not egregious to my ears, and I suspect a healthy appreciation for Mike Patton's vocal dementia should help the passage go down easier.

One pitfall of this style of music is a lack of momentum and a tendency to fall into rhythmic ruts. Fortunately, Naisian's songs are driven by manic, lively and skillful drumming, bringing to mind the bright immediacy of the sadly defunct Burst. The well mixed bass adds heft to the album's constant movement, ensuring your continued attention. The magnificent bass playing comes to the forefront during some of the more atmospheric moments, writhing in dithyrambic abandon.

Mammalian sports a sharp and unsullied production that gives room for purposeful sludgy mud and crystal clear, clean guitar acrobatics. Naisian sound like a band in the best sense of the word; this is four guys who've meticulously sculpted a titanic sonic landscape. The spirit of this collaborative creation is lovingly captured on tape.

No, Naisian aren't from Savannah, Georgia, thank you very much. Naisian call Sheffield, UK home, but I hope the band jumps the pond someday for a tour. I suspect they'd sound massive in person.

82/100

Mammalian is available on February 18th, and you can order it directly from the band here. Pre-orders of the album come with an immediate digital download.

You can check out "Fletcher-Munson" below, as well as the video for "Bellicist," set to scenes from the classic film, "Freaks."
Fletcher-Munson by naisian

naisian - Bellicist

naisian - new video/song up | Myspace Music Videos

Naisian home
Naisian Myspace
Naisian Twitter

Immortal - Pure Holocaust (Osmose Productions, 1993)

2011-02-11T10:05:00.003-05:00

I get all misty-eyed over Immortal's Pure Holocaust in a retrospective piece for Metal Injection.

Mitochondrion - Parasignosis (Profound Lore, 2011)

2011-02-09T12:58:00.005-05:00

My review of Mitochondrion's unfathomably fantastic Parasignosis is posted here at Metal Injection.

Castevet, Phantom Glue, Defeatist, Xaddax – January 28th – The Acheron, Brooklyn

2011-02-01T09:49:00.006-05:00

I was expecting adventure on this evening, traveling into the hinterlands of Williamsburg after another snowstorm and driving into the teeth of new snow. I got a bit more than I bargained for; I arrived at The Acheron to find it had no functioning toilet. Of all the bathroom options offered, the only one my brain could process was “go in the snow.” It worked well enough. As a DIY space, The Acheron also doesn't seem to be “heated” in any conventional sense, except by the bodies filling it. There were plenty on this evening, but it didn't stop the snow and slush from seeping into my boots, giving me the feeling of an Ardennes Forest foxhole circa 1944. The show was fantastic, and I had a great time despite my emerging trench-foot.

Xaddax started things off with an entertaining set of bizarro post-punk, noise rock madness. Chrissy Rossettie pounded the hell out of her drums, bashing out serious rhythmic absurdity interspersed with mysteriously triggered electronic samples. Nick Sakes, wearing a matching jumpsuit, matched wits and riffs with the beats. His yelled vocals added a layer of peculiarity to the performance. Very fun.

This was the best Defeatist performance I've witnessed. The trio were bubbling over with intensity, and the sound was excellent. My close proximity definitely helped. I was able to witness the terrifying stares Joel Stallings fixes upon his cymbals as he smashes them with stunning precision. The man means business; I'd hate to be reincarnated as a piece of his drum-kit. Josh Scott pulled double duty on this evening (also playing in Castevet), and his brawling, bare bass tone entwined perfectly with the abstruse drum wizardry. Aaron Nichols' guitar sounded great, allowing us to fully absorb the maniacal riffs that Defeatist dispense. The whole affair was thoroughly mindblowing. Word on the street is that the band will be recording a new album in the near future. I can't wait.

Phantom Glue were up next, playing a solid set of stoner sludge muckery. Ultimately, the band's music isn't my thing, but they played an engaging and precise set. Dueling vocals commanded our attention with riffs and solos that covered a wide range of punk/rock/metal territory. My favorite moments were the heaviest, when the band surrendered entirely to groove. Phantom Glue are certainly worth catching in a live setting.

If you aren't yet convinced of Castevet's genius, I really can't help you. The set pulled entirely from the impeccable Mounds of Ash, and this was the best live representation of those tracks I've heard. Again, my proximity helped mightily; this is the first Castevet performance where I could fully grasp Andrew Hock's inscrutable guitar prognostications. These songs deliver a transcendent rhythmic and melodic purification, driven home by Andrew's laconic vocal paroxysms. Ian Jacyszyn's flawless drumming was also amazing to witness. I can't fathom how these cryptic rhythms intersect with reality, and I don't care to. That Josh Scott interjects cohesive and complimentary bass lines into the mix is beyond my reckoning.

I couldn't see the crowd through most of the show, being so close to the stage. Besides some flying hair and banging heads, I don't think a pit emerged. Everyone spent the show bundled in winter coats, which probably would have taken the edge off some pit action. Every time I turned around, I caught looks of amazement and awe (at least during Defeatist and Castevet). I probably had the same look of perplexed bliss on my face throughout. At least I remembered to avoid the yellow snow as I trudged back to my car.

My Year in Metal, 2010 – Favorite Albums

2011-01-31T20:58:00.039-05:00

These are the albums I listened to and enjoyed the most in 2010. Note that the top 10 was previously published here at Metal Injection in December.

25. Sabre - Sabre (Pact Ink Records)
Sabre's self-titled debut is a solid slab of sludge and a shit-ton of fun. Riffs and rhythm throb with life and energy. Crackling guitars often speak in deathlier tones while the energetic drumming pounds the pavement. This lumbering, pulverizing beast of an LP provides an energizing experience while splashing you repeatedly with waves of muddy goodness.

24. Deafest - Earth Turned Skyward (Ninth Meridian Records)
Deafest return with another amazing exhibition of melodic, instrumental black metal. Earth Turned Skyward harnesses the raw, natural beauty of the Rocky Mountains and focuses it into enthralling, weather-beaten compositions. These tunes crawl into my soul and whisper visions of majestic primeval forests, even as mankind chops them to the ground.

23. Landmine Marathon - Sovereign Descent (Prosthetic)
Landmine Marathon have captured the sound of radiating, scorching heat. Sovereign Descent siphons off my anger and feeds it to a raging inferno. The album's martial grooves and excoriating mid-paced massacre actually grew on me as the year progressed. I made liberal use of the album's scalding immediacy to cauterize life's wounds.

22. Flaming Tusk - Old, Blackened Century (High Water Media)
A curiously cacophonous and utterly unique concoction of lumbering sludge and memorable doomy dementia. Dueling guitars dish out splines of splendid riffage in concert with eruptions of vocal fulmination. Spiced with excellent songwriting and singed with a bit of blackness, the album finishes with a bright, nutty aroma.

21. Vit - - (Self-Released)
This stunning album chronicles the cryptic rituals of a Cthulhuesque cult, refracted through a lens of doom, death, sludge and bottomless blackness. Vit have the uncanny ability to mutate melody and dissonance into unfathomable shapes, creating an engaging and ominous atmosphere. Voracious vocals narrate these occult proceedings while colossal riffs rip you limb from limb; you wouldn't want to get caught in the elder God's throat as he digests your soul.

20. Defeatist - Sixth Extinction (Willowtip)
Driven by a peerless rhythmic assault, Sixth Extinction has been a go-to album this year when my soul is in need of aural violence. Defeatist purvey percussion so stunningly complex that headbanging is not an option; I just have to throw my whole body into it. I didn't expect the album to outclass so much of the year's grindcore, but that's precisely what happened. Defeatist set the bar too high for me.

19. Mutant Supremacy - Infinite Suffering (Self-Released)
Mutant Supremacy remind us of the heights death metal can reach when brutality is subservient to songwriting and repulsive riffage. This will be the album you hear while crouching in a dingy bomb shelter during a nuclear attack. As searing heat melts away your skin and radioactivity rewrites your genetic profile, Infinite Suffering will linger in your ears and memory. Mutant Supremacy have crafted an inimitable testament to death.

18. Humanity Falls - Ordaining the Apocalypse (Self-Released)
An experiment in unrelenting and manic creativity, Humanity Falls have unleashed a beast of an album. Gouging out the eyes of grind and death, Ordaining the Apocalypse roils with an indefatigable rhythmic rage. Cathartic, charismatic and crushing, this album is exploding with ideas I find endlessly listenable. [Out now on The Path Less Traveled Records]

17. Hooded Menace - Never Cross The Dead (Profound Lore)
Erupting from the gurgling depths of doomy death, Never Cross The Dead hooks you with tremendous riffs and mind imploding melodies. Hooded Menace convey their vision via lumbering doom and galloping grooves, maintaining a morbid focus throughout. I continually return to these morose tales when in need of funereal entertainment.

16. Decrepit Birth - Polarity (Nuclear Blast)
Polarity was my only real excursion into proper tech-death for 2010. Bill Robinson narrates a mind-expanding journey through the multiverse, with lyrics worthy of a psychedelic Michael Moorcock yarn. Decrepit Birth successfully put songwriting before technicality on this album, creating a cohesive and memorable near-Death experience. There are, of course, an absurd array of amazing riffs, all tinged with astral melodies that constantly evoke Chuck Schuldiner's legacy. Thoroughly enjoyable.

15. StarGazer - A Great Work of Ages/ A Work of Great Ages (Profound Lore)
It took me ages to comprehend this arcane conundrum of death metal majesty, but it was worth the effort. Full of cerebral riffs and esoteric compositions, the album's momentum tilts constantly. Leaning on the thrashier side of death and often flirting with ethereal melody, there's no shortage of ideas to be found. An absolutely absurd bass performance pushes this into the stratosphere.

14. The Secret - Solve Et Coagula (Southern Lord)
The Secret make an immediate and oppressive impression with this grinding slab of blackened hardcore madness. Sporting some of my favorite production and guitar tones of the year, Solve Et Coagula unleashes an absolute shitstorm of righteous riffs and rage. In a bleak and blackened landscape there's nowhere to hide from the album's bludgeoning barrage. Certainly one of the heaviest LPs of 2010.

13. Woe - Quietly, Undramatically (Candlelight)
Quietly, Undramatically is a stunningly organic explosion of misery and misanthropy. The album unleashes a rolling wave of black metal might, driven by a gorgeous rhythmic fusillade . Austere but bombastic, it's given to resounding dynamics. Overwhelming emotions are held in abeyance by metal and malice, contained by unadulterated, rancorous riffage.

12.Inquisition - Ominous Doctrines of the Perpetual Mystical Macrocosm (Hells Headbangers)
These icy seas of black metal goodness heave with treble-heavy chords, ringing out in absurd, apoplectic and thrashy cacophony. Dagon surpasses Abbath's froggery and his riffs whip all of Immortal's output in this century. The soundtrack to a northern passage in the service of Satan, the album is filled with peculiar bendy notes and irresistible, exuberant melody. Solos sing out with sweet reverb while a pounding martial bombardment propels you into the night. Almost too good to be true.

11. Triptykon - Eparistera Daimones (Century Media)
It took me a good long while to connect with Eparistera Daimones and to comprehend it as an album. Since that epiphany it has wormed into my consciousness, dripping nightmarish visions and monstrous ripping riffage into my soul. Thomas Gabriel Fischer lays bare visceral emotions through these songs, and the album unapologetically mainlines them into your body. Let it consume you.

10. Deathspell Omega - Paracletus (Seasons of Mist)
Although I find Deathspell Omega's music to be fascinating and cerebral, the question for me has always been how much I actually enjoy it. Paracletus affirmatively answers that question for my ears, combining absurd riffs, astral arpeggiations and corkscrew rhythms to create an aesthetically entertaining experience. This is an album to sit and marvel at while your mind tries to untangle its intricacies. Deathspell Omega have risen above their own obfuscation to craft an album of memorable songs.

9. Black Anvil - Triumvirate (Relapse)
Triumvirate is a treatise on movement, with riffs and rhythm that provide propulsion to your ears and body. The album blasts across the soundscape with an ominous and satisfying resonance. Black Anvil give black metal some muscle and show no mercy in beating the genre into submission. The band made good on the promise of their debut album, conjoining songwriting skill with groove, power and wanton speed. I'm still enjoying the hell out of Triumvirate.

8. Slough Feg - The Animal Spirits (Profound Lore)
Mike Scalzi will consume you with fireballs from his eyes and bolts of lightning from his arse. The man understands that songwriting and riffs form the heart of the metal beast, and The Animal Spirits delivers both in style. As always, Slough Feg craft traditional metal that bangs your head and begs you to sing along. I very nearly killed myself several times while blasting this album in the shower. For an extra challenge, give it a spin in your car; I promise you'll drive better while headbanging and throwing a claw out the window.

7. Weapon - From the Devil's Tomb (The Ajna Offensive)
This dark horse of an album blasted out of nowhere at the end of the year to win over my blackened heart. From The Devil's Tomb is a vile hymn in worship of the mighty riff. Evoking thoughts of Possessed, Kreator, Morbid Angel and especially Dissection, Weapon have crafted an incredible metal monument. Solos are deployed in liberal homage to the Dark Lord, reminding us of bygone glory. Vicious, varied and voracious, From The Devil's Tomb is an album you won't want to miss.

6. Agalloch - Marrow of the Spirit (Profound Lore)
Marrow of the Spirit is an album whose dulcet charms I cognitively resisted, but whose masterful execution I could not deny. Filled with alluring melodies, saporous structures and shattering crescendos, Marrow of the Spirit will needle into your consciousness and ultimately expand it. Vast dimensional spaces are bridged by proggy passages whose effulgence I can't resist. Despite my doubts, the album leaves no saccharine aftertaste. I suspect that Marrow of the Spirit will resound in my ears for years to come.

5. Ludicra - The Tenant (Profound Lore)
Astonishingly unique and neck-snappingly catchy, The Tenant drops a megaton of riffage on the constraints of black metal and shatters them convincingly. Vocals are drenched in eviscerating anguish, driving these diverse tracks into transcendent realms. The Tenant romps, thrashes and rages, all the while focusing on righteous riffs and solid songwriting.

4. Immolation - Majesty and Decay (Nuclear Blast)
Immolation simply outclass a great portion of the death metal world in my ears. Majesty and Decay roils and rolls like a frigate's deck in a pitched sea battle. Riffs and rhythm unleash rippling broadsides against hapless enemies, no match for the speed and precision of this seasoned crew. The superlative drumming drives this ship though the water like a gale force wind, leaving only carnage in its wake. Majesty and Decay is a re-affirmation of Immolation's enduring legacy. Along the way it managed to renew my faith in the power of death metal.

3. Withered - Dualitas (Prosthetic)
Dualitas is a ridiculous sonic experience. The album is full of battering beats and amphoric tones that resonate in my ears and in my memory. Strange bits of the album's sludgy blackness constantly appear in my consciousness, as if the album's begging to be blasted. There's a deep melancholy seared into these doomed melodies, and the careful composition and songwriting bear that out. Dualitas will leave you shattered but enlightened.

2. Castevet - Mounds of Ash (Profound Lore)
This album is a riffing and rhythmic wonder, imbued with an oscillating martial gait. The soundtrack to my year's caffeination, Mounds of Ash caused countless beats to be hammered out on any available surface. The album is somber but driving, bleak but brilliant. Dissonant melodies swirl in mutant meter, and their appeal didn't attenuate one bit with time. Castevet have laid down a formula for greatness, and I hope they make good on its promise.

1. Darkthrone - Circle the Wagons (Peaceville)
Cause of innumerable absurd sing-alongs, Circle the Wagons is without a doubt the album I listened to and enjoyed the most this year. Playing on the prototypes of all we hold dear in metal, Darkthrone remind us that this shit is supposed to be fun. Fenriz and Ted accompanied me on many a task that required fortitude, perseverance and strength. We mowed the lawn together, battled midtown tourists together, washed dishes together, lifted weights together and even cleaned the toilet together. Let me ask you one thing, “Does it smell like a bowl of fruit?”

My Year in Metal, 2010 – Favorite Concerts

2011-01-25T16:12:00.004-05:00

[The entirety of the year's concert t-shirt haul is pictured above]

10. Flaming Tusk – Legion, Brooklyn, NY
I enjoyed the hell out of Flaming Tusk's debut full-length, and their live show delivered the cacophonous goods. The band made the most of a cozy Brooklyn hole-in-the-wall, pounding our faces into a ripe sludge. It also helps that they're an incredibly nice bunch of guys. Let's hope they regroup in 2011 for some further ass-kickage.

9. Black Anvil, The Absence, Ipsissimus – The Studio at Webster Hall, NYC
It was great to see Black Anvil getting the attention they deserve with a headlining hometown show. As expected, the Triumvirate tracks showered malevolent annihilation upon the crowd, and a raucous, drunken good time was had by all. This show was my first taste of Ipsissimus' impressive black metal machinations; I eagerly await their Metal Blade debut.

8. Altar of Plagues, Velnias, Castevet, Man's Gin – The Studio At Webster Hall, NYC
No moment of metal in 2010 was as cathartic as Altar of Plagues' first New York appearance. The band's atmospheric black metal was amplified in edge and emotion in person, melting away flesh and bone to leave a crowd of shattered, satisfied souls. Velnias' dark intonations were entirely entertaining, and Castevet delivered an awe inspiring set. Fantastic show.

7. Skeletonwitch, Withered, Landmine Marathon, Ipsissimus – Toad's Place, New Haven, CT
This line-up was well worth a road-trip, turning the tiny upstairs venue into a deathly cachinnating echo chamber. Each band gave a excoriating performance, buoyed by excellent sound and an absurdly intimate atmosphere. Withered made good on the glory of Dualitas, finally clicking for me in a live setting. My first Landmine Marathon experience was well worth the wait, and Skeletonwitch was reliably masterful.

6. Fuck the Facts, Magrudergrind, Defeatist, Atakke - Cake Shop, NYC
My first Cake Shop show was an incredibly fun grind gauntlet. Defeatist blew my mind, providing an absurd rhythmic beating. I finally got to see Magrudergrind do their thing in person, and the pummeling lived up to the hype. Fuck the Facts are quickly becoming one of my favorite bands, and they delivered an excellent set of utterly unique hybrid-grind glory. The Canadian crew capitalized on the crisp catchiness of their recent Unnamed EP; I'm a believer.

5. Wormrot, Defeatist, Mutant Supremacy, Psychic Limb and Curandera – The Acheron, Brooklyn, NY
Wormrot's second swing through NYC brought an absurd line-up. Mutant Supremacy, although theoretically out of place, dispensed the old school death with panache and drove home the excellence of Infinite Suffering. Defeatist's shock and awe grind attack left us with slack-jawed looks of amazement. Wormrot brought the precision and skill, translating a month on the road into a perfect execution of demented riffs and rage. By this point Arif had also perfected his barefoot, interpretive grind-dances. Goddamn, that was fun.

4. Gorguts, Portal and Krallice – The Knitting Factory, Brooklyn, NY
The reunited Gorguts blanketed Brooklyn with tech death ecstasy on this fetid, schweatty night, fulfilling my hopeless dream of ever seeing the band live. Portal sweat out an ocean of bodily fluids, ably embodying the whirling, otherworldly malevolence of Swarth. Krallice again rose to the occasion, proving they belong amongst the elite of extreme metal.

3. Immolation, Arsis, Disma – The Studio at Webster Hall, NYC
Ross Dolan and Bob Vigna are still the same incredibly nice guys I first met 15 years ago, and Immolation are still capable of churning out the finest death metal the world has to offer. This manic, intimate show produced equal parts unabashed smiles and uncontrolled headbanging. The Majesty and Decay tracks stood up with Immolation classics for a Christ-crushing experience. Propelled by the filthy cassette-borne death of The Vault of Membros, Disma's performance intensified the anticipation for their upcoming debut full-length.

2. Ludicra, Krallice, Castevet and Atakke – Europa, Brooklyn, NY
Nobody sounds quite like Ludicra, and nobody can match the unhinged insanity of this band on stage. Surrounded by her team of all-star musicians, Laurie Sue Shanaman ripped demons from her soul and flung them into the adoring pit of writhing bodies. This was the most absorbing live performance I witnessed all year, drawing me into a thoroughly engrossing vortex of catharsis and headbanging bliss. I got my first taste of Castevet on this night, and it was also my favorite Krallice show of the year; the excellent sound teased out all the intricacy and intensity I could desire from their music.

1. Wormrot – The Bowery Electric, NYC
Wormrot's first, impromptu show in the United States is a thing of legend. Fresh off a battle with visa issues, jet-lagged and unceremoniously added to an incongruous concert, the trio laid utter waste to New York City. This was the kind of show where everyone was smiling from ear to ear for one neck-snapping half hour of grind. Having my wife on hand added to the entertainment; the show offered her a brief and blinding insight into the meaning of grindcore. Wormrot proved that they are the real deal; purveyors of the mighty riff, spewers of psychotic gurgles, horsemen of rhythmic destruction, saviors of grind. Thank you for a night I'll never forget.

My Year in Metal, 2010 - Favorite EPs and Splits

2011-01-15T21:08:00.021-05:00

6. Grave Miasma - Realm of Evoked Doom (Nuclear Winter Records)
This year produced a veritable plague of black/death/doom hybrids. Grave Miasma survive this pestilence via volcanic riffs and a clear conviction that rhythm should not be subservient to atmosphere. Realm of Evoked Doom is a leviathan of unhallowed guitars, propelled by an incendiary drumming. I'll be shocked if Grave Miasma don't use this EP as a stepping stone to greatness.

5. Autopsy – The Tomb Within (Peaceville)
Autopsy return with a glorious goblet of flippy floppy gore. Not a part of my formative death metal years, Autopsy was a taste acquired much later in life. Despite my tardy start, Severed Survival and Mental Funeral have achieved a lofty perch in the ye olde album collection. The Tomb Within strikes my ears with all of the shambling, mangled glory of those classic albums. Autopsy remind us that when death approaches it will not be a precise and clean affair; your end will be a messy spasm of blunt force trauma. Death metal should resemble that final, explosive moment.

4. Fuck the Facts – Unnamed (Self Released)
A perfect encapsulation of the band's brand of melodic mutant grind mayhem in ten and a half minutes. Unnamed showcases the impossible ability to blend riffs, rhythmic diversity, melody and manic memorability into a cohesive package. 2010 was the year Fuck the Facts finally clicked for me. I'm waiting impatiently for the impending Die Miserable, as well as the band's tenth anniversary tour.

3. Wormrot/I Abhor - Split (Scrotum Jus Records)
Wormrot served up my favorite grind album in 2009, and they return to dish out my favorite grind morsel of 2010. I Abhor join the frenzy and admirably lay waste to our ears on their half of this split. Wormrot certify that their astronomical rise is no fluke, spewing an absurdly venomous set of near perfect tracks. Long live the riff, long live Wormrot. The imminent Dirge will most certainly dominate 2011.

2. Altar of Plagues - Tides (Burning World)
Altar of Plagues present a soaring, sonorous and somber evolution of their sound. Tides sails through and beyond the seas of black metal, drifting into uncharted ambient waters. Entrancing, engaging and transformative, Tides has been in rotation ever since I picked it up at the band's victorious NYC show. Their upcoming LP, Mammal, is certainly amongst my most anticipated albums of 2011.

1. Flourishing – A Momentary Sense of the Immediate World (The Path Less Traveled Records)
Nothing this year blew me clear out of my socks like Flourishing's debut EP. Propelled by shattering rhythms and gusts of discordant grinding death, Flourishing batter you with the force of everything from Immolation to Discordance Axis to Gorguts to Gojira. Experimental but entirely cohesive, the EP is packed with brain tickling riffs and memorable songwriting. I can't wait to hear their upcoming full-length. Don't miss out on this one.

Imbroglio - Sleep Deprivation (The Path Less Traveled Records, 2011)

2011-01-10T20:51:00.003-05:00

I posted a review of Imbroglio's new album over here at Metal Injection. It's an apocalyptic sludgenoise catharsis.

Sabre - Sabre (Pact Ink Records, 2010)

2011-01-03T21:20:00.006-05:00

Sludge metal in its purest forms rarely appeals to me. Sabre, however, rise above the mire and capture my attention with prodigious riffs, elephantine grooves, diverse velocities, and a curiously jubilant atmosphere. Sabre feels like a guiltless pleasure; when I hit play my neck instantly hooks itself up to the album's drive-train. Sabre convey a cleansing combustion, inciting a comforting metal bliss and unabashed headbanging.

“Astral Convergence” starts the proceedings with some laid back drumming and a lumbering but memorable riff. As this tank revs up its engine, the satisfying, rumbling guitar tone will commandeer your consciousness. The instrumental track is a solid warm-up for the bombardment to follow.
“Unearthly Body” cuts you down with a spray of shrapnel and a sweet stuttering rhythm. Brian Ross's howl makes its first of several brief appearances on the album; he is not a man of many words. It's not long before we're seized by the first shockwave of groove, powered by Tyler Jameson's tectonic drumming. Yes, you'll be motoring through the filthy slop of muddy trenches, but this is a victorious advance. Before you know it, we'll be tearing across cratered battlefields and driving the enemy before us.

The guitar tone on “Condescension” crackles like electrical discharge from high-tension wires and brings to mind glorious visions of Autopsy. Tyler Jameson's thunderous, tribal percussion evokes Chris Reifert's ecstatic rhythmic wreckage. The track registers high on the headbang-o-meter as riffs slip and slop like a mudslide. “Black Water” sounds a bit more somber; we've taken this battle to sea and the drumming is pushing us to row for dear life. Having reached the open water, the track settles into a heaving tempest of riffs. Brian Ross's voice sinks to deathlier depths, matching the track's descent into death metal motifs.

The production here is unassuming and organic, giving ample space to the album's fathomless bottom end. Neal Hunter's bass playing shines brightest during the album's more absurd rhythmic expositions. Although the bass frequently competes for space with Brian Ross's molten guitar tone, its force is critical to the album's ear rupturing nature.

“Josiah” launches with a jocular punk vibe, moving with the killer swing of a Discharge jaunt. The sentiment is brief; it's not long before we return to a lurching dirge. Chords ring out with a satisfying distortion and hang in the air like a fetid cloud, paving the way for the oddity to come. “Automaton” breaks ranks with the spirited proceedings by way of an extended ambient/doom instrumental. The song is dipped in outré arpeggiations and smothered in sepia tones. It could easily serve as a soundtrack to a Lon Chaney silent film (“The Phantom of the Opera” comes to mind.) It's the kind of long-winded indulgence that would normally cause my attention to wander, but the track keeps me strangely transfixed.

“WhoreInstinctsDefined” caps off the album with style. I adore the guitar tone here as the thing stumbles through a drunken cascade of ear-razing riffs. The track then rips into another ode to Autopsy, tearing along at a brisk trample. The careening penultimate riff will induce incredible headbanging that might just burst your skull. To finish you off, the band unleash an absurd, gargantuan swing before fading into the distance.

Sabre have put together a rampaging debut, showcasing keen riffs and a knack for substantive composition. I think I put on a couple of pounds of muscle with each listen.

85/100

You can stream the entire album below or purchase a CD from the record label here.

Sabre: Facebook | Official | Encyclopaedia Metallum

Full disclosure: The record label provided me with a copy of the album.

Owen Hart - Earth Control (Vitriol Records, 2011)

2010-12-21T16:10:00.004-05:00

My review of this devastating metal amalgam and unhinged riff-fest is posted here at Metal Injection.

Vit - - - (Self Released, 2010)

2010-12-12T19:58:00.007-05:00

(Yes, the album title is simply the character '-')

Vit traffic in only the starkest transpositions of murk and luminosity, haste and lethargy, despair and enlightenment. Clean guitar tracks explore cobwebbed corners of Americana, punctuating a death march of sludgy doom and passages of swifter blackness. All of this is conveyed with the utmost immediacy via tremendous riffs, even when moving at the most funereal of paces. These dichotomies extend deep into the lyrical content. The album chronicles the rituals of a cult who hope to awaken an ancient, Cthulhuesque god via self-sacrifice, achieving metaphysical revelation in the process. Weighed against that illumination is the soul crushing emptiness of the human experience, magnified by the knowledge that you exist only to augment this elder god's strength.

The interplay between major and minor scales is a prime vehicle for the album's contradictory forces. “The Ardour Of Saints” kicks things off with a grungy, upbeat and infectious series of chords. The song engenders feelings of hope and tranquility, even while driven by thundering drums. But that sentiment doesn't last. As the song draws to a close you can hear the chords decaying before your ears, notes slowly dripping from major scales down into dark harmonic dissonance. The result is gorgeously repulsive.

With little warning you're dropped into the crushing, lumbering riff that drives “Swansylvania.” Scathing vocals join the fray, and we get a taste of the abysmal torpor that pervades the album. The songs don't move with such a consistently sluggish languor, however. We witness the first outburst of speed as the track ends in a barrage of blastbeats. Sudden acceleration and deceleration are another hallmark of the opposing aesthetics Vit masterfully meld.

“The Ascension Ritual” enters with a strange set of stringed instruments, perhaps including a 12-string guitar and a ukulele. The excellent piece evokes sepia images of rural America and draws us further into the fold of the cult, who are purported to dwell in Swansylvania, Ohio (along with the band). The track meanders through strange and compelling chord formations before cascading into a distorted, double bass-driven monstrosity.

These compositions consistently breathe, move and mutate. The guitar work here is preternaturally creative, with memorable riffs parleyed in numerous voices. Lumbering, funereal doom is the prime mode of operation, but crushing syncopated and thrashy riffs are often interspersed with bouncy Opethian chord changes. Swifter sections often slide into the domain of ambient or even orthodox black metal.

The production on the album is crisp and spacious. The drumming ranges from subtle to pummeling, consistently incisive at any velocity. The vocalist's throaty croak is surprisingly comprehensible as it drapes a layer of filth over these tracks. His commanding attack and sepulchral enunciation beg for a deeper look at the lyrical content. Although the album is available digitally through Bandcamp, you'll only get a glimpse of the brilliant lyrics and ritualistic zeal of this cult by purchasing the wooden box set version of the album (affordably available from the band). Each box set comes with individually crafted lyrical inserts, replete with instructions for the cult's rituals. No two inserts are alike.

This is quite frankly a stunning debut album, simultaneously professional, compelling, hypnotic and unique. Vit excavate a perfect cross section of everything I find worthwhile in metal at the moment. If I ran a record label I'd get Vit on the phone and try to snatch this up to get it pressed and distributed posthaste.

87/100

You can stream the entire album below:

Vit will be out on a short U.S. tour with Vestiges at the end of December.

Vit Bandcamp
Vit Facebook
Vit Myspace

Skeletonwitch, Withered, Landmine Marathon, Ipsissimus – November 28th – Toad's Place, New Haven CT

2010-12-06T12:50:00.005-05:00

My review of this excellent show, as well as a bunch of video, is posted over here at Metal Injection.

Gnarled Bark and Alpine Tundra – An Interview with Chase Ambler of Deafest

2010-11-30T22:16:00.008-05:00

When my ears are burned out, and I'm suffering from metal fatigue, there's precious little heavy music to which I can turn for relief. Deafest provide that kind of palliative listening experience, playing instrumental, melodic black metal that delivers healing and transformative doses of nature.

Deafest's music originates in the ragged peaks of the Rocky Mountains, flowing through creeks of post-rock bombast, streams of glass-like tranquility and raging rapids of blast-beaten blackness. Their masterful Eroding Peaks was one of my favorite albums of 2009. In October, Deafest released Earth Turned Skyward, another superlative paean to the glory of nature and the wickedness of mankind.

Earth Turned Skyward is chock-full of absurdly entrancing melody, unwinding its charms without superfluous build-up or compositional waste. As with nearly all of Defeast's releases, Earth Turned Skyward is available as a free download, with a physical release coming from Ninth Meridian Records in the near future. I recently spoke to Deafest mastermind Chase Ambler, seeking to understand the origins of this naturalistic music.

Your music is very closely associated with natural themes. How does your affinity for the great outdoors inspire these songs?

During the summers when my family would come back to Colorado from Southeast Asia we would always go hiking in the mountains. At first I only enjoyed getting to the top and the vistas from the summits, but over the years I learned to love everything about the Colorado wilderness. When I’m up at my cabin I get feelings that I know need to be expressed through music. The hard part is translating them through my guitar. I think black metal is the perfect vessel to express my view of nature, because it’s so harsh and yet can contain great beauty, whether obviously or much more hidden. Of course Deafest’s songs are also influenced by other music, but about half of the sound is drawn from my memories and experiences in the mountains.

The name “Deafest” is used in a pejorative sense, describing mankind in conflict with nature. How does this misanthropic viewpoint factor into your compositions?

Definitely some of the darker atmospheres or melodies in my music stem from the sad truth that the wilderness is disappearing every day. It’s being replaced by ugly concrete, asphalt, and housing developments. It’s really easy to see the juxtaposition of natural beauty and man-made filth here in Colorado. You might be hiking and come over a ridge and there are electrical towers and power lines ruining a stunning view, not to mention the mines that rip up entire sides of mountains. It’s easy to long for a time when humans didn’t inhabit these parts, or at least didn’t destroy them. No matter how gorgeous the scenery is at a specific place, my mind always links the sorrow of human destruction to the view. This idea of no beauty without sorrow has played a large role in my black metal since the beginning of the band.

I'm interested in the paths by which people become ensnared by black metal. How did you first become acquainted with this type of music?

Black metal for me was a two step process. Stage one was the discover of Windir. Windir opened up the two great genres of black metal and folk metal to me. I then fell in love with Ulver and started listening to a bunch of other Norwegian black metal bands. After a while I got bored with the evil style of black metal and listened to other types of metal mostly.

Stage two happened a few years later when a friend showed me Wolves in the Throne Room and my black metal passion was renewed. That band was definitely a gateway to a bunch of different styles of black metal that I had not experienced before. I found that since I was introduced to metal through melodic death I really preferred melody in music, so melodic and atmospheric black metal really consumed me.

When you started to write your own music, which black metal bands helped form this vision you've developed?

I think the initial, and most obvious, influences on my work would have to be Wolves in the Throne Room and Windir. Other bands that I listen to constantly that have a great influence on my later writing are Shining, Dawn, ColdWorld, Agalloch, Krohm, Lantlos, Nyktalgia, Strid, Acheronian Dirge, Irrwisch, I Shalt Become, Angantyr, Drudkh, Celestia, and Altar of Plagues to name a few.

You've got a serious post-rock vibe going on in your music, and you manage to perfectly merge it with the austerity of black metal. What bands have influenced that part of your music?

A few years back Pelican opened for Opeth at a show in Denver. I of course had never heard this type of music before and was intrigued. Pelican played a show not long after with Mono, and Russian Circles and I was hooked. Mono quickly became one of my favorite bands in any genre and has an obvious influence on my writing, consciously at times and unconsciously at others. Other bands that I love are Sigur Ros, If These Trees Could Talk, Red Sparowes, and Liam.

Last year you abandoned the black metal screaming that previously accompanied your music. Why did you decide to do that?

It might have been due to the fact that I was listening to so many post-rock bands that are completely instrumental, but I think mostly it was because my least favorite part of my music was my vocals. Every time I recorded them I disliked them. When I decided to get rid of vocals altogether I decided it would force me to be a bit more creative in the song writing to keep the listener’s attention, and I liked that challenge. I still don’t know of many completely instrumental black metal bands so I like that about my decision as well. After I had already decided to do away with vocals I convinced myself that music without lyrics would be more ‘natural’ as well, and would become a sort of soundtrack to nature. If that is true or not I have no idea, but I liked the thought.

In this past year you also abandoned your drum machine and partnered up with Brett of Severnaya. I feel like his drumming brings an entirely organic and complementary air to the music. How did that come about and why did you make the change?

As I was writing my second album, Eroding Peaks, I felt it was time to take Deafest to the next level. The music deserved a real drummer supporting it. Unfortunately, my drumming skills were not progressing as I had hoped. Luckily, three of my friends are drummers, and Brett was the first to express his desire to record with me. At our first practice he already had the first song memorized from the demo I sent him, so I knew it was meant to be. After Eroding Peaks went so smoothly Brett moved from session member to actual member of the band, and he really helped sculpt some of my ideas for Earth Turned Skyward.

I feel like your music would stand up very well in a live setting. Have you ever considered the possibility of live performance for Deafest, or are you siding with Fenriz on that subject?

One of the main reasons why Deafest was started was because I hate playing live. My friends knew that and so they wanted to start a project with me that was for recording only. They got extremely busy with their other bands so Deafest became a solo project. Playing live has always been a terrifying experience for me in every band I’ve played in. It always takes all the fun out of the music creation process for me. Although Brett would love to play live he respects my misanthropic views.

In the last few years you've put out splits with diverse bands like Livimørket, Cynd, Mirovia, and Starless Night. How did those collaborations come about?

Well the spits with Dunkelheit, Severnaya, Cynd, and Mirovia all happened because the guys in the bands are my friends. The Livimørket, and Starless Night splits happened through mutual admiration of each other's music. The internet makes it so easy to enjoy great music from all over the world. There’s no way that I would have discovered these great bands from England and Florida without the web. Does that make me a poser for admiring nature and the internet at the same time? Probably.

Although physical representations of your albums are currently being released through Ninth Meridian Records, you've thus far given away digital copies of almost all your work. Do you plan to continue that distribution path?

A lot of bands put out their first demo or EP online for all to enjoy but then once they get a record label to put out their music they stop releasing stuff online. I didn’t want that to happen to Deafest. I knew that I would never make any actual money off of black metal, and I have a full-time job, so I wanted to keep releasing albums online. Brett and I record totally for free with our own equipment. Why would we charge others for what didn’t cost us a thing to make? The only thing that costs is the printing of the CDs, so when I was releasing Deafest through Mountain Drought Records (run by my friends and me) that was the only thing that we charged for. Luckily, Owen of 9th Meridian Records understands my philosophy and has no problem with us releasing the albums online while he prints the CDs for sale.

You write reviews of local Denver metal for Examiner.com, which I enjoy quite a bit. What's the metal scene like out there? Have you been to any interesting shows lately?

Colorado has a surprising and very diverse metal scene. I find out about new bands from here all the time, but for the most part Denver is not known for its metal scene like some other cities around the country. I wanted to shed a little bit of light on Colorado metal because we have some fantastic bands. Even though I grew up in Southeast Asia, my family has ancient roots in Colorado, so I have to express that pride. I haven’t had much money to go to shows recently but the last few bands that I saw were Envy, Wormrot, and Altar of Plagues.

How do you envision the future of Deafest?

Well I’d love to record on top of one of fourteeners here in the Rockies, but I doubt that will happen. More seriously though, I’m always looking for new sounds and moods to mold into black metal to diversify Deafest’s sound. Deafest will continue to play instrumental black metal with an emphasis on melody, but it really depends on what comes to me when I’m in the mountains, and what I’m listening to when I start writing.

On Earth Turned Skyward I played with the idea of the album as a single musical piece, because each of the songs has a different rendition of a section from the first song. The songs kind of fit together in a composition, and the final song has the climax that is meant for the whole album and not just that last song. I think those ideas worked really well in this album, so I wouldn’t be surprised if similar interweaving of songs is something that I pursue in the future.

Thanks for your time, I appreciate it.

Thank you so much for your great questions and thoughtful reviews. And of course, I’d like to thank everyone that makes Deafest possible, whether directly or through your undying support.

Incantation, Mortician - November 20th - Europa, Brooklyn

2010-11-29T10:44:00.004-05:00

I posted a review and video of Incantation's Decibel Hall of Fame show in Brooklyn over here for Metal Injection. It wasn't a pretty night.

Withered – Dualitas (Prosthetic, 2010)

2010-11-08T21:59:00.008-05:00

With Dualitas, Withered invite us on a meditative journey towards our internal void. The liner notes are prefaced with an essay that extols the virtue of insight meditation and asks us to “question the most fundamental elements of perception.” Dualitas guides us on this path via a sonic journey into the subterranean cavities of our minds. The album is a celebration of molten tones and cavernous resonance. With a painstaking focus on songwriting, Withered have crystallized their amalgam of sludge, black metal and deathly doom into obsidian perfection.

“Extinguished With The Weary” rages out of the gate with the force of a percussion drill, showering us with shattered rock as it spins down into the earth. Dylan Kilgore and Mike Thompson share guitar and vocal duties, spitting excoriating missives over mordant distortion. Mike Longoria's bass rotates around the music like a flailing downhole hammer, sporting a satisfying buzz throughout. The song slows through a section of sludgy sediment, giving us a first taste of the melodic atmospherics that will punctuate our journey.

“Reside In The Void” echoes up from a dripping grotto, crawling along with a melancholic lead over crisp, clean guitars. We stumble through unlit capillaries, accompanied by a pulsating bit of bass before the song digs into a dissonant wall of sludge. Beau Brandon's gorgeous drumming drives us on into the darkness, and we're joined by dueling guttural vocals. Then the drill flips back on, and we're sprinting through blackness, chased by superlative rhythmic bombardment.

Dualitas bores like a buzzsaw into our brain's bedrock but pauses consistently to allow moments of discovery in the caverns of our psyche. Frankly, I think the ambient interludes are extraordinary and go a long way towards making Dualitas transcendent. Phillip Cope's meticulous production gives ample space to the instruments, avoiding any claustrophobic compression.

Withered ask a lot as they usher us on this meditative path, and in lesser hands, the undertaking would reek of new-aged cheese. Thankfully, Dualitas doesn't shrink from the traditional darkness of death/black metal imagery. After the lyrics of each song, the band offer an exegesis of the words, explaining how they pertain to our goal. To make progress towards enlightenment we must look deeply into our human nature, focusing even on the unsavory elements we find therein. “From Shadows” deals with “our despicable potentials and darkest intentions.” “The Progenitor's Grasp” fights back against “the hold that antiquated spirituality has on all of us.” Withered hope you can follow this road and find “the smallest and darkest point in the very center of your mind.” The further you burrow into this singularity, “the farther you will be from the boundaries of reality and your internal void can reach magnificent proportions of emptiness.”

Dualitas actually gains momentum towards its end. “From Shadows” is one of the strongest tracks on the album, featuring a distorted dissonance that purrs like an engine. Its confluence of blazing grooves and memorable riffs recalls the delectable flavor of a Ludicra song. “Aethereal Breath” features the most stunning bit of melancholy on the album. Incredible drums dance around a clean riff before the guitars hammer out an avalanche of melody and rage.

In the end, Dualitas is what you make of it. The album might help you achieve a deep meditative state or grasp new conceptual revelations. It might simply present a fascinating listening experience. Either way, it's worth your time.

93/100

Withered Myspace
Withered Homepage

Withered are currently out on Danzig's Blackest of the Black tour. At the end of November they meet up for a run with Skeletonwitch and Landmine Marathon.

Full disclosure: Prosthetic provided me with a promo download, but I went out and bought a copy of the album.

Woe – Quietly, Undramatically (Candlelight, 2010)

2010-11-01T22:34:00.004-04:00

Quietly, Undramatically harpooned me immediately on a sonic level, with rarefied, transportive riffs, bright production and vivid drumming. As a listening experience, the album is deeply tied into its lyrical content. On the one hand, the album ponders our mournful mortal struggles, and on the other, it tackles beguiling metaphysical quandaries. It takes a lot these days for anything approaching conventional black metal to grab my attention, but Woe have succeeded in branding a black mark in my consciousness.

Riffs always win the day. Chris Grigg delivers a deluge of memorable, melodic and varied guitar work. The mandatory waves of tremolo-picked pandemonium never fade into background noise. These songs demonstrate an ability to channel the tried and true essence of black metal in fresh, if not new, directions. The riffs are comprised of melodies that at times are austere and at others possessed of a bleak emotional undertow. Ghostly lead guitar accents augment some passages and sparing clean arpeggiations fill out the sonic seascape.

Evan Madden delivers an entirely human and entirely complementary drum performance. He eschews robotic blasting for rhythmic diversity and character. The sinuous, organic drums make this music lively and engaging to my ears while inducing much banging of the head. The percussion is forward in the mix, and I find its prominence refreshing. The cataract roils at varying speeds, mostly flowing at a brisk pace. The songs often bob along with a lilt that evokes memories of Enslaved's Eld. Other stretches move with the ambient abandon of Wolves in the Throne Room or the frenetic verve of Krallice.

Chris Grigg's vocals give life to brooding, enigmatic lyrical prognostications. He shifts between a heartier death gurgle and an anguished black metal scream, sometimes augmented by echoing reverb. “The Road From Recovery” examines the tortured path of progress, regression and depression, brought upon ourselves “because this body demands it always lose.” The title track is a meditation on one's own death, explaining how “I focus on the end and how I know that it will take me. Quietly. Undramatically.” This song features a brief presentation of excellent clean vocals, delivered with affecting authority. Their inclusion might repulse a purist, but I enjoy the depth they add to the track.

“A Treatise On Control” ponders our power to control absolutely nothing in this life, while also seeming to deny the power of a divine creator. “Without Logic” explores a knowing disavowal of rational existence, stating that “the world's been explained at the cost of my soul. A predictable planet's preferred by the weak. I look deep inside and refuse now to think.” “Hatred is our Heart” takes a step away from the cerebral proceedings, reading like an indictment of corpse-painted, theatrical black metal. The track, replete with gruff gang vocals, proclaims the integrity of artists who shun pseudonyms and false identities.

Seemingly apropos of nothing in the lyrics, the liner notes conclude with the the statement, “Some things change. Some things stay the same. Woe is Satanic black metal. Hatred is our Heart” I'm not exactly sure what that means anymore in this day and age, but it's quite possible I missed something along the way. Then again, perhaps “the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.” Either way, this apparent dichotomy does nothing to dull my enjoyment of the album or the sentiments it explores.

88/100

Woe Myspace

The Secret – Solve Et Coagula (Southern Lord, 2010)

2010-10-26T21:04:00.006-04:00

The Secret dispense with the icy cold black metal aesthetic, instead churning up a hot, humid tropical depression. A fetid breeze wafts scents of sludge over arpeggiated darkness with “Cross Builder,” and we get our first glimpses of the boiling demonic voice that will narrate this tempest. The offshore winds slowly gain strength before engulfing you in a teeming downpour of rage with “Death Alive.” Here the curious nature of this music fully reveals itself; the Secret are a perfect storm of hardcore riffs doused in dissonant darkness, tossed with frenetic drumming that shifts between thunderous hammering and bludgeoning blastbeats.

Tracks like “Weathermen” bring occasional lulls from the lashing blackness, slowing enough to let pools of viscous ooze flood the landscape. “Eve of the Last Day” brings a rare bit of tremolo-picked siren's call, certainly evoking Black Anvil before beckoning us to smash everything in sight with a doomy stomp. ”War Desire” follows a similar path, calling our attention to a minor keyed melody that floats above the tune before dragging us down into an atonal slaughter.

Marco Coslovich's vocals lead us into a cathartic cyclone of anger, taking aim at religion, society, war and the egregious excess of modern life. We're encouraged to burn it all down and walk away. The album's title invokes a dictum of medieval Alchemy, literally imploring us to “separate and join together” or “dissolve and coagulate.” I suspect this sentiment is in no way conciliatory; there's nothing redeemable about our world. In “Pursuit of Discomfort,” Mr. Coslovich informs us that “The only choice that we're free to make is to find the right circle of hell.”

Forged in their native Italy but recorded by Kurt Ballou at his Godcity Studio, Solve Et Coagula is gorgeously produced. Michael Bertoldini's char-broiled guitar tone has a guttural gravitas that unsurprisingly sparks thoughts of Converge. Enrico Uliana's bass pulsates with distortion and adds heft to Tommaso Corte's rhythmic siege. Through it all, Marco Coslovich spews vitriolic diatribes in a voice that is nothing short of filthy.

Hardcore has made many new incursions into metal of late, but this experiment appeals to me much more than the endless splicing and dicing of Entombed DNA. Solve Et Coagula's appeal is immediate and visceral; I want to throw wide my arms and let this storm of anger wash over me. Now come tour the United States, please.

87/100

The Secret Myspace

Streetwalker, Flourishing, Unmen – October 19th – The Charleston, Brooklyn

2010-10-23T00:18:00.006-04:00

I'm working on a theory that local grindcore shows are always fun, whether or not you're familiar with the bands and their music at all. My initial motivation to come out on this night was to see Flourishing, whose A Momentary Sense of the Immediate World EP is still one of my favorite albums of the year. A brief survey of the other bands on Myspace revealed an array of thrashing grind goodness. I was sold. In terms of promotion, Catbomb has been putting together some badass shows lately, so this was ultimately a no-brainer.

Death Mold, first on the bill, canceled at the last minute, taking with them all the mildewed witticisms I had in store. In their place we got a micro-set from GetOverHere!, an Unmen side-project inspired by a deep love of Mortal Kombat and its assorted finishing moves. Sporting a straight ahead, classic grind sound with a bit of brutality, GetOverHere! cranked out brief blasts of thudding riffage and growled gurgles. It was a perfect warm-up for the evening and an excellent performance for a last minute save.

Unmen unleashed a cacophonous grinding assault, shattering ear drums and getting some decent action from the surprisingly large crowd. While the band bowled austere riffage and gutterball grooves, vocalist Timm Sparks flew straight over the cuckoo's nest. The guy punched himself in the face repeatedly with the microphone while issuing demented screams in a stunning display of non-restraint. At one point he forsook amplification altogether, tearing across the room, screaming uncontrollably. Turns out he didn't need a PA after all.

Unmen choose a more dissonant take on classic grind, sprouting thrash vibes and power-violent overtones. Bass player Josh Walton jumps in on the vocals to expand the band's vile vocal palate while Marco Caruso leads the band down rhythmic paths that beg you to dance. Their set was certainly fun; I was compelled to pick up the band's demo afterward. Guitar player Jeremy Suria is also an incredible artist. I bought a pile of stickers and a T-shirt with some crazy illustrations for dirt cheap. (I hear his artistry skills are for hire.)

The last time I saw Flourishing my evening was cut short by the gods of public transportation, so I was quite looking forward to a repeat performance. The band threw down a set of mostly new material, a bold move showcasing their creative momentum. Guitar player and vocalist Garett Bussanick also plays in Wetnurse, but it doesn't seem to have injured the flow of new ideas in Flourishing.

Flourishing thrive on rhythmic diversity, and these new tracks displayed the full force of their attack. Drummer Brian Corcoran extracted an absurd perfection from his massive kit with seeming ease. Eric Rizk hammered out bass lines that alternate between complex melodic counterpoint and rhythmic augmentation of the drumming. Garett Bussanick seems to have concocted a fresh set of riffs that slip and slide lithely between melody and discordance. His vocal performance is still a maniacally over-caffeinated trip, with careening howls augmented by some newly clean speaking/singing. “Snake Charmer,” closed out the set as the sole crushing representative of their debut EP. I'm dying to hear their upcoming full length. Look for that to explode next year.

Streetwalker are out on tour, having successfully survived their trip from Seattle. Their punk inflected, thrashing grind assault is shockingly coherent and entertaining. Streetwalker feature a triple vocal attack; guitar player Chris Napolitano and Bassist Brandon Curry both toss in yells while Jacqui Alberts takes the lead with throat ripping screams. The band promised a “delicious set” and delivered the flavor, opening with “We Can't Win”off their latest album, Revelling In The Din of Humanity. I picked up the CD after the show, and it's absolutely worth checking out.

The inebriated crowd was a sloppy moshing mess. Several fine fellows appeared to actually be wrestling on the floor, their heads narrowly missing the steel beams that hold up the bar above. Jacqui Alberts' flying dreads formed a shield in front of the band, holding the raucous mob at bay. Folks felt free to scream out ridiculous requests, including a repeated call for a cover of “Dream Weaver.” It didn't happen.

Several songs were prefaced with explanations. “Pine Box,” a killer track, is about a man who hangs himself after being falsely accused of rape. Another song was about being locked up in the mental ward of a Seattle hospital. Good times.

Joe Rizzi carved a deadly rhythmic swath with his drumming, leading a charge that often swerved into realms of death metal to my ears. These tunes are entertainingly eclectic without sounding desultory. I heard strains of everything from Napalm Death to Obituary to waves of hardcore punk. It was in fact a vicious and delicious dish. Streetwalker are definitely worth your time. Their North American tour continues back west for another couple of weeks. Catch them if you can.

Krallice, Infernal Stronghold, Concussion – October 7th – Shea Stadium, Brooklyn

2010-10-12T11:33:00.006-04:00

I was there for the last wretched game at Shea Stadium in Queens, lost by the Mets in pathetic, soul-crushing style. Although that blue and orange monstrosity of memory is bulldozed and paved over, some masochistic music lovers in Brooklyn have adopted the name for their performance and recording space. Located in the same industrial isthmus as The Acheron, Shea Stadium inhabits a second floor loft and matches a decent sound setup with a cozy, lived-in and mostly unfinished atmosphere.

Concussion sound great on tape; their Dried Blood EP (available for free on BandCamp) is sweet mix of Gothenburg-spiced thrash and hardcore rage. In person they didn't sound quite as articulate, but every bit as powerful. Lead guitarist/vocalist Blake looks like a metal postcard from 1982 with his snarling delivery and bobbing mop. Bass player/vocalist Bones played so hard that he actually broke a string. In all my years of concert experiences, I've never seen anyone break a bass string. Members of the crowd were moshing as if seeking a concussion of their own. The PA speakers at Shea Stadium sit directly on the low stage and don't offer the fidelity of an overhead rig, but the band muscled through with style. Concussion are a force to be reckoned with, and I'm sure we'll be hearing much more from them in the near future.

Infernal Stronghold took the stage next with 40 oz. bottles of Olde English and Colt 45 in hand. Although I came late to the game, I'm a big fan of the band's 2009 full length, Godless Noise. Infernal Stronghold peddle over-the-top, blasphemous and crude black metal with thrashing punk overtones. Although the band hadn't played a show since May, they were surprisingly cogent, if not sober. Infernal Stronghold ride the absolute edge of madness, emanating chaotic mayhem from a stage that could barely contain them. The massive alcohol consumption didn't seem to affect the band's blistering attack, but the stage banter did degenerate into complete incomprehensibility.

Infernal Stronghold played a couple of excellent new songs, one of which I believe was called “Infestation Obsession Possession,” or some such absurdity. Vocalist and guitarist Eddie Chainsaw introduced another new track, purported to be about dying before the age of thirty, and followed it up with gratuitously powerful belches into the microphone. Godless Noise tracks like “A Dog You Call God” and “Fuck 'Thou Shalt Culture'” ripped just as hard as the recorded versions. As the band closed out the set, drummer R.B.D. signed off with “if you think the show sucked, you can eat our shorts.” Yes, Infernal Stronghold bring the good times and show you don't need corpse paint to be clowns. I'm quite looking forward to new music and further live performances from these guys.

Krallice are the rare band that engage your mind as much as your ears. A census of my CD collection would show that Krallice and Dimensional Bleedthrough have been played far more than any other albums on the shelves in the last year. No matter how many times I spin these things, I always become cognitively absorbed in the listening experience. On an emotional level, these songs evoke wistfulness and wonder, with stints of the raging empowerment good metal will engender.

The live Krallice experience is another thing altogether. With the exception of Colin Marston, I've got to know the guys in the band a decent bit; they're a relatively laid back lot. Put them on stage and they are transformed by the physical rigors of this music. The Mick Barr screaming death into the microphone bears little resemblance to the guy I know. My own reaction to this music is different in person. My head has no qualms about banging through an entire 14 minute song. Several times on this night, I suddenly became self-conscious of the air guitar I was involuntarily shredding.

Krallice hadn't played live in six months, but it didn't show at all. “Aridity” kicked things off with a shower of feedback and gargantuan swing before gliding across impossible planes of mutant melody. Lev Weinstein quickly settled into the absurd gait of the song that would last a quarter of an hour. His performance was a sight to behold unto itself, as always. Colin Marston and Nick McMaster sport swivel necks while tapping out arachnid patterns on their instruments. Mick Barr disappears behind a wall of hair and emerges only to emit inhuman shrieks.

Two excellent new tracks followed, one of which had never been played live before. The new songs frequently feel familiar, but also display new dynamic directions for Krallice. There's no indication the band will stop evolving their sound in the near future. This was followed by the impossibly complicated “Energy Chasms,” which shows off one of the rare bits of Krallice guitar work you might be inclined to call a guitar solo. Another esoteric new track closed out the set before the band was called back out for an encore by a chant of their name. The blasting brief might of “The Mountain” brought the evening to an end, with Nick McMaster howling into the microphone and possessed of demonic fortitude as he pounded out the hyper-speed bass lines.

After the show, Krallice packed up to ship out to the Fall Into Darkness fest in Portland. They don't have any upcoming tour plans that I know of. Let's hope we get that new album soon.

Suren of f.666 has an excellent set of photos from this show here.

Wormrot, Defeatist, Mutant Supremacy, Psychic Limb and Curandera – October 3rd – The Acheron, Brooklyn

2010-10-08T14:18:00.004-04:00

Metal is sprouting out of every rancid nook and cranny of New York City. On Sunday night, grindcore spewed from a joint called The Acheron, and it was another in a long line of venues I've not yet patronized. Situated in a veritable warehouse wasteland in Brooklyn, The Acheron closely resembles the trash compactor of the Death Star. The deep, narrow room has high ceilings and claustrophobia-inducing walls. The concrete floor is ideal for life threatening mosh pits, replete with a strange side door that opens directly into the melée. At some point during the night, the place started to fill up with water. No shitting. On the bright side, The Acheron has a nice, high stage and an excellent sound system. In a world of brutal basement shows, those last two features rank The Acheron amongst the elite.

Curandera blasted us with a dazzling display of muckified grind, frequently shifting velocity and generally making good use of the high quality sonic accoutrements. Next, Psychic Limb devoured every inch of the narrow stage with a cacophonous and spastic noise attack. Singer Brian Montuori's antics teased out smiles from the rapidly expanding and imbibing crowd. The band's vicious and intriguing tunes incited a pit into which I accidentally stepped. One quick taste of the brick wall was enough for me. I retreated to safer ground, but there's not much in the way of secure real estate at The Acheron.

Between the first two sets I made the acquaintance of Mutant Supremacy's gregarious front man, Sam Awry, as well as drummer Robert Nelson. No rock star bullshit here – just nice guys willing to talk it up with fans. No one seemed the least bit phased by the insertion of killer death metal into the middle of a genuine grind-fest. Infinite Suffering is still in heavy rotation, so I was really looking forward to this set.

Mutant Supremacy made good on the promise of their recorded music, absolutely annihilating the crowd with a hypnotic performance. “Extinction” started things off full throttle, instantly giving my neck a workout and demanding I scream along. Mutant Supremacy didn't have the most articulate mix from the soundboard. I would have liked to hear a bit more of Sam Awry's guitar in there, but it didn't detract from the destruction.

The set transported me back a good fifteen years to my early concert going days. The ripping death metal vibe reminded me of shows at long-closed clubs with line-ups chock-full of shredded carnage; Mutant Supremacy would have fit right in. I felt the same drooling jealous awe I did as a kid, witnessing professional musicians rip off complex riffs without breaking a sweat. Mutant Supremacy kill.

The Mutant Supremacy pit raged unchecked and reached its apex when the band tore into a cover of Death's “Zombie Ritual.” The guy in the Scream Bloody Gore shirt was certainly pleased. I don't have the slightest idea why Mutant Supremacy aren't signed to a label and touring the world amongst the elite.

Speaking of elite, Defeatist ratcheted up the evening's absurdity with a mind blowing display of grind warfare. The Acheron seems built to channel the sonic ethos of three-piece bands. Defeatist sounded infinitely clearer than they did when I saw them last at Cake Shop. Once again, Joel Stallings stole the entire evening with an ungodly display of drumming. He and Josh Scott comprise the most dynamic and explosive rhythm section you'll find anywhere. (Incidentally, the duo have an incredible side project called Radiation Blackbody that showcases those dynamics.) Aaron Nichols' vocals weren't particularly high in the mix, but his deceptively complicated guitar riffs sang loud and clear. The slide-stepping slaughter of “Death Holds Her Brood” sent the crowd into hysterics. Righteous.

Finally, Wormrot burnt the Acheron to the ground. Everything about this set was twice as precise, twice as fast, and twice as potent as the Bowery Electric show in September. A month on the road has transformed Wormrot into an inhuman grind machine. The crowd was berserk throughout the entire set, stage diving and otherwise beating the hell out of each other. The claustrophobic confines of The Acheron were magnified, as if someone had switched on the Death Star trash compactor in an attempt to grind us to bits.

The split with I Abhor again comprised a good chunk of the setlist, with a sweet selection of Abuse tracks rounding out the menu. The new song Wormrot debuted last month has coagulated into a thing of beauty. The band played for a good long while, leaving a bruise that will not soon fade. By now their tour is over and the 'rot are on their way back to Singapore. Safe travels, come back soon.

On a side note, I apologize for the lack of visual aides. I managed to leave my camera at home on this night. I'm not sure I would have caught anything but a blur, in any case. The kind folks at Brooklyn Vegan have risked their lives to lovingly document this show on film, so check that out over here.

Black Anvil, The Absence, Ipsissimus – September 28th, The Studio at Webster Hall, NYC

2010-10-04T21:20:00.004-04:00

I was more than a little bit curious and concerned about this show. Put on by corporate sponsors as part of a new “Metal Night” showcase, I wondered what strings might be attached. Additionally, entrance could be gained by buying the new Black Anvil CD from Best Buy (in-store or online). Although this meant the show was essentially “free,” would this sales gimmick keeps fans away from Black Anvil's record release gig? The answer to that is no, plenty of people showed. Ultimately, the only oddity of this evening was the lineup, but the proceedings ended in complete victory for the hometown trio.

Walking up to Webster Hall, I was stunned to find a large crowd and a line of people down the block. Had Black Anvil really broken through like this? Not quite – I realized these folks were queued up for British alterna-yodelers James, who were playing in the main room at Webster. The Studio was modestly full at this point, but that would change. The only sign of corporate influence was a pile of Scion detritus that is no uncommon sight at metal shows these days. From a fan's point of view, no further corporate tithe was required to enjoy the evening.

The first band to plug in was Ipsissimus, from Connecticut. I had checked out the band's music on Myspace and was quite impressed. In addition, Mick Barr of Krallice had recommended their egregiously blasphemous brand of black metal a few weeks ago. Unbeknownst to me, these guys were recently signed to Metal Blade and are working on their debut album.

Ipsissimus have no lack of charisma. Bass player and vocalist Tichondrius is a frothing fount of bile but also displays a keen sense of humor. This is blasphemy for blasphemy's sake. Guitar player Ryan Adams (AKA His Emissary) maintains a head-down stage presence as he unleashes a tremolo picked storm. Drummer Haimatokharmes (!?) put in a preposterous performance, managing to keep up the grueling pace with panache. These songs are entertaining, bouncy affairs with quite a bit of icy melodic dynamism. In their finer moments, Ipsissimus evoke glorious thoughts of Dissection.

One oddity of the show was that each band seemed to have an equally large time-slot. Ipsissimus played for a good 40 minutes, and their set only dragged a bit during some extended instrumental passages. Ryan Adams' guitar tone was a bit thinner than on the recordings I heard; Ipsissimus might benefit from some additional guitar layering on stage, especially during solos. I picked up the band's excellent 2008 EP, The Three Secrets of Fatima, and I'll certainly be looking forward to their full length on Metal Blade.

The Absence were the odd men out. The band has always been of borderline interest to me, but as my tolerance for melodic death metal has declined over the last decade, that interest has faded. Be that as it may, I still wanted to see the band play live. The Absence have a new album out and have evidently been on the road playing new material to receptive ears. The crowd on this evening was mostly passive, but at the very least they were polite. Front man Jamie Stewart seems to thrive on energy, and he wasn't getting any from the audience. He let everyone know that, tossing out thinly veiled barbs about the crowd's concrete feet. To the credit of the concertgoers, this situation didn't devolve into catcalls or taunting. The band pulled off a decent set, playing a wide array of tunes while sounding taut and precise. I felt that the mix didn't do justice to the crunchy tone of their albums, but at least the guitars were audible (see Arsis' failure in this regard at the same venue).

Black Anvil opened their set with a startling cover of Von's “Veadtuck” (from their 1992 Satanic Blood demo). The soaring, sibylline instrumental was a perfect herald for the chaos to follow. This would be my fourth convocation with the Black Anvil triumvirate, and it was definitely the best. The mix at The Studio was auditory perfection. Gary Bennett's guitar sported its full tonal malignancy and each note was discernible. These guys always manage to tease the best sound out of a venue.

The Triumvirate tracks sounded fresh, precise and full of energy. “Angels To Dust” was absolutely pummeling and set off a raging pit in the now full venue. The song is a good example of the synergistic dynamics that drive Black Anvil. Paul Delaney may command your full attention with his manic bass attack and vicious screams, but when Gary Bennett steps up to trade off some bellowing vocals, you know that this is a team effort.

Black Anvil possess a hypnotic stage presence. Paul Delaney plays his bass as if it were a spitting cobra, and this life and death battle dominates your consciousness. Raeph Glicken is fixed with a terrifying glare as he unleashes devastating bombardments. Black Anvil beckon you to lose control, and under the thrall of their rhythmic assault, people do. For the first time in a good long while, I was compelled to take off my glasses and jump in the pit. It was worth the danger of dismemberment.

Black Anvil present an intense and cathartic concert experience. Tracks like “Dead and Left” and “Transparent” sit perfectly alongside older affairs to slake your metal thirst. If anything, the set was entirely too short for a headlining act, but such are the rules of “Metal Night.” I expect Black Anvil to win over an army of new fans when they head out on tour with Watain next month. Be there.

Mutant Supremacy – Infinite Suffering (Self Released, 2010)

2010-09-29T22:55:00.004-04:00

A good death metal album will power you through many an unsavory situation. An excellent death metal album will also engage the senses when you don't need to take the world by force. Infinite Suffering is such an album, an engaging confluence of riffs, rhythm, attitude and ingenuity. This celebration of anger, retribution, desecration and death proves that the old ways are still the good ways. You don't need to trawl the the metal waters and cook up a schizophrenic genre gumbo to hit the spot; just serve death in the raw.

Mutant Supremacy reek of Incantation's musty miasma and assault you with a rolling cadence redolent of Morbid Angel. Any way you cut it, Infinite Suffering emits the comforting fetid aroma of early American death you'll recognize and appreciate. Finely reticulated riffage forms the backbone of this “mutant beyond control.” There are memorable and distinctive riffs at every turn, with an astounding amount of rhythmic variation soaked into the noxious atmosphere. Excellent solos waft high above the mix and feature quite a bit of demonic mojo.

Sam Awry's vocals display a satisfying sneer and evoke a bit of John Tardy's garrulous eccentricity. The lyrics make for quite an entertaining read, rhapsodizing about the repulsive end that awaits us all. “Morbid Dismemberment” is the only track that really steps over the gore threshold, detailing the acts of a grave robbing interior decorator. A few choice moments offer singalong opportunities. The chorus of “Extinction,” in particular, compels me to scream “Onward, onward, to death” into the faces of Times Square tourists.

Robert Nelson's drumming is fluid and perfectly reflects the loose, organic meter of these songs. The lively rhythms never slip into sloppiness as they swirl and swerve below the guitars. The production on the album is arid and unoffensive, letting the putrescent olfactory assault of these tracks shine through. Infinite Suffering stands up well to repeated listens, and I don't think any fan of the old school would regret adding this to their collection.

84/100

Infinite Suffering is available from the band on CD or vinyl through their Myspace, and you can stream the entire album here.

Mutant Supremacy have several upcoming NYC shows, including an epic evening with Wormrot, Defeatist, Psychic Limb and Curandera on Sunday (10/3) at The Acheron. I'll certainly be there.

Wormrot/I Abhor - Split (Scrotum Jus Records, 2010)

2010-09-21T14:29:00.006-04:00

This split serves up a gourmet grind meal. I Abhor plate a curiously delicious appetizer to whet your appetite. Then Wormrot deliver the main course, a transcendent dish served on perfect porcelain and devoured in four bites. Of course, this breed of fine dining does nothing to fulfill your appetite, and you sure as hell don't belong in this establishment. Hit repeat, toss the tables, thrash the clientele and get the circle pit going.

I Abhor start you off with “Downfall”, where semi-clean, fat guitar joins a cymbal ride to create an austere, Assückian atmosphere. The first few seconds of this song make you wonder whether or not you're going to get some “Corporal Jigsore Quandary” action, but then I Abhor rev the engines and reveal their true nature. Dueling vocals battle over fantastic drumming while the guitars mostly slink and slither deep in the mix.

I Abhor change speeds frequently and do evoke an Assücking atonality in my infantile grind mind. Some guitar riffs border on experimental but at many points the mix obscures exactly what's going on. Blasts and grooves get equal space, and I really dig the snare-heavy drum action. The real charm here for me is the vocals. One guttural voice has swallowed the mic, while the other persona provides scathing vocalizations that remind me heavily of Daniel Jansson's work in Culted (purveyors of blackened doom). Everything here makes me want to hear more from I Abhor.

Then, well, Wormrot hand you your ass. If you are a fan of Abuse, this is mandatory ownage. These eight tracks reveal a band moving forward, gaining momentum, writing better songs and gunning for glory. Each tune has an individual personality, astounding hooks and complete memorability. “Twelve” gives us a Sesame Street sample out of left field and showers us with screams for 15 seconds. “Critical Human Stupidity” then dispenses a deft punk intro in 4/4 time that will throw you for a loop with its gleaming simplicity. A gurgle from Arif lets us know this motif won't last long. 35 seconds in we get a superlative riff that mutates through another groove and devolves into a barrage of blasts.

These tracks might display a greater rhythmic diversity to my ears than Abuse, and that's part of the magic. “Talkshit Holocaust” and “Terminal Turbulence” lay down distinctive riffs over an array of beats that you won't forget. “Retarded Collisions” has one of the most preposterously glorious grind riffs I've ever heard. No shitting; your motor neurons will be starting their own pit before you know what's going on.

I heard most of these songs for the first time when I saw Wormrot live a few weeks ago. It's a sure sign of their quality that each track was observably distinct and memorable. It was fascinating to witness Arif spew each of the numerous vocal styles displayed in these tunes. Rasyid may effortlessly rip off perfect riffs and Fitri might lay down many a precise blast, but Arif's dementedly dissociative vocals are the element that push Wormrot into madness.

88/100

Black Anvil – Triumvirate (Relapse, 2010)

2010-09-12T10:53:00.010-04:00

Triumvirate came as quite a surprise to me. Black Anvil have evolved at a rapid clip, taking a step past the palm-muted, Morbid Tales informed chugging of Time Insults the Mind. That album galloped and grooved, dispensing death from horseback. Triumvirate barrels along like a locomotive, mercilessly mowing you down and only occasionally slowing the pace to hose blood off the cowcatcher.

Black Anvil have a certain street-smart, common sense approach to songwriting that really appeals to me. I can't tell you how much I appreciate songs that are catchy, memorable and crushing all at the same time. The band's black metal ambitions are free from dissimulation. This music simply kills, radiating a genuine desire to triumph and destroy. “What Is Life If Not Now!” is a statement, not a question. This veritable Zen koan of a song kicks off Triumvirate with prodigious force and purpose.

The production on Triumvirate is on a completely different plane from the band's debut. It sounds as if someone scraped off a layer of crust to reveal a gleaming monstrosity. Gary Bennett's guitars are huge and enveloping, Raeph Glicken's drums are mixed to perfection, and the bass is particularly percussive. If anything, Paul Delaney's vocals sounds twice as venomous on this album. The lyrics read like an evil poetic psalm, eloquently annotating an impious theosophy.

Triumvirate is filled with riffs that roll relentlessly down the tracks, alternating tromolo picked propulsion with sections of crushing combustion. The railway is not always straight; this train hits some pleasantly unorthodox melodic curves that don't derail the menacing atmosphere. Gary Bennett's predilection for spectral arpeggiation has become a pleasant trademark of the Black Anvil sound. “Dead and Left” sports a Christ-crushing, hammered on riff that gets me up out of my seat and sends me sprinting around my house in hysterics. “Angels To Dust” drives home a memorable melodic riff, then lets loose a rhythmic bombardment that does wonders for wrecking my neck.

I'm not fucking around with the train metaphors; I don't think I've ever heard an album elicit such a distinct sensation of raging along the rails. Be that as it may, Triumvirate is in no way limited by the sentiment it engenders. It's merely the sign of a perfect rhythmic execution of some damned fine tunes. If my constantly growing enthusiasm for Triumvirate is any indication, it will certainly end up as one of my favorite albums of the year.

89/100

Black Anvil Myspace

Triumvirate comes out on September 28th in America and the band will be playing a record release show that night in NYC (details here). I'll be there. After that, the band heads out on a month-long tour with Watain and Goatwhore in November.

Full disclosure: Relapse provided me with a promo download.

Wormrot – September 5th – The Bowery Electric, NYC

2010-09-08T20:33:00.010-04:00

Sunday night was a tale of two shows. They happened in the same venue, they happened contiguously and the crowds overlapped a bit, but they honestly had nothing to do with each other. Maegashira and Wizardry walloped us with some massively entertaining, doomy, psychedelic grooves. Then Evoken crushed our souls, slowly pulverizing the crowd with a mind-blowing set of abysmal death. When their set ended in cataclysmic cacophony it was already pushing past midnight; these shows didn't even happen on the same day.

I was there for the three early bands, but I wasn't totally present. My mind was occupied with the drama surrounding the show's last minute headliner. After visa issues canceled the initial dates of their first U.S. tour, this would be Wormrot's first American performance. There was just too much anticipation involved to fully comprehend the paradox of this evening’s music.

The Wormrot dudes were exhausted after their 20 hour flight from Singapore, but they were clearly excited to grind America into dust. I spoke briefly to Arif before the set, and the prevailing desire was just to scream “GO” and do this shit. But Wormrot had to wait their turn. When Evoken finished their set, some people left, but most stayed, and an entire crowd of grinders who'd been loitering outside the venue materialized.

People gave a raucous yell when they heard Rasyid's guitar during the brief sound check. That same full-bodied, perfect Abuse tone was present. It made me drool instantaneously. As Wormrot started their set I think every person in attendance was plastered with stupid, slack-jawed smiles. The band raged with ease, blasting through most of Abuse, a good portion of the tracks off their new split with I Abhor, and at least one new track.

Arif is a complete fucking madman, belting out guttural gurgles and horrifying screams while treating us to strange interpretive dance moves during each and every groove. The long flight was clearly still on his mind; one song was dedicated to the pilot of their plane, and yet another was dedicated to the horrific turbulence they encountered while flying through the remnants of hurricane Earl. Arif has got those intangible front-man skills that are hard to define but absolutely essential. He asked at one point, “Does anyone here like black metal?” When folks enthusiastically cheered, Arif responded “Uh-oh,” before introducing “Blasphemy My Ass.” Wormrot are all about sarcasm.

Fitri's drum kit essentially fell apart several times during the set from the beating it was receiving. The ensuing repairs introduced some dead air that Arif broke by noting “This is why we're not rich.” Aside from those brief interludes, Fitri hammered the living hell out of the drums, effectively recreating the rhythmic perfection of Abuse. Like each of the band members, he looked at ease while fixing our broken minds. I would have liked if the drums were a bit higher in the mix (a rare sentiment at a metal show), but all told, the sound was quite excellent for Wormrot, if not a mite deafening.

Rasyid stood stone-cold serious as he deftly dispensed perfect grind riffage. He whipped the small pit into a rash of retarded collisions with his bombastic combination of speed and groove. His guitar seemed to retune itself throughout the performance, but it never sounded off. He never once touched the pegs; in grindcore there is no tuning. “Murder” probably produced the most insane action from the five or six guys who dominated the floor. During the thirty minute set Wormrot hit every track I wanted to hear and induced intense banging of the head. I was smiling through the whole affair, most likely spraying drool from my flapping lips like a hound.

This, my friends, was pure grind bliss. I can't tell you how excited I am that Wormrot are going to play again in NYC on the tail end of their tour (with a killer line-up including Defeatist, Mutant Supremacy, Phantom Limb and Curandera). I encourage you to catch this band at all costs. Wormrot toted a decent bit of merchandise across the globe, including two t-shirt designs, Abuse vinyl and the new Wormrot/I Abhor CD split. I can vouch for the excellence of the new split, which I picked up. The band played a handful of songs off of it, and they sounded fantastic live.

During my earlier chat with Arif, I asked about the band's travel arrangements, as I'd seen them post an advertisement for a NY based van driver for the tour. According to Arif, none other than Mike Hill of Tombs is escorting them on their American jaunt. I was in half disbelief of this tidbit until I saw the man himself talking to the band before their set. Really? Now there's a road warrior.

Altar of Plagues - Tides EP (Burning World, 2010)

2010-09-01T20:18:00.005-04:00

My interest in exploring new black metal has really washed out to sea in the last year. That growing tide of indifference led me to pass on Altar of Plagues' White Tomb, despite a boatload of acclaim. News that the band would cross the Atlantic for a North American tour this summer eventually nudged me to check out the EP of which we speak. Tides flipped my dinghy on the first listen, tossing my black metal ennui overboard. These two songs (clocking in at 36 minutes) will dump you straight into the fathomless freezing depths to ponder the Pyrrhic victory that is existence.

“Atlantic Light” is possessed of a tonality that rolls like a tolling bell. To my ears, these riffs manage to transcend the atmospheric black metal norm, rolling along in grand melodic gestures that are propelled by the steady drumming. There's not even that much distortion on the guitars, but that's irrelevant. There is an emotional power here that's immersive and immense. I'm fascinated by the guitar stylings on these tracks; the subtle distortion lays bare the tremolo picked notes that would otherwise blend together into a wave of noise. There are some moments when I'm positively blown away by the maelstrom of melodies that flow from these guitars.

Tides is a journey through melancholy and rage with no lifeboat. Part of the appeal of these tracks is the transposition of traditional black metal screeches with semi-sung/screamed vocals that exude a crushing hopelessness. The lyrics to “Atlantic Light” are a fascinating meditation on the mighty ocean and mankind's unceasing quest to drain it of life. “The Weight of it All” dwells in the same emotional space, pondering our ability to blissfully ignore weighty matters.

At no point during these two expansive tracks does my attention wander. I personally consider the word “drone” to be a epithet in metal, and these songs do no such thing for me. As with any decent exploration of atmospheric black metal, the excellent drumming is a cornerstone of the songs' dynamics. “The Weight Of It All” contains the lion-share of blastbeats, navigating through a bleak tempest with a coxswain's discipline and a pleasantly organic drum sound.

In retrospect, Tides is much less produced than White Tomb, and I think that's part of its allure. An excellent interview with James Kelly (over at Brooklyn Vegan) provided quite a bit of insight into the spirit of this EP and also transcribes the lyrics. White Tomb obviously grew on me and is now a cherished brick in my metal wall, but Tides holds sway over my attention. This is the music that will be playing when my ship is crushed on the shoals of life.

88/100

Altar of Plagues are also mind-blowing in a live setting, as I found out here.

Humanity Falls – Ordaining The Apocalypse (Self Released - 2010)

2010-08-20T20:16:00.005-04:00

The word “experimental” makes me flinch when used to describe music. I'm not usually partial to any deliberate re-engineering of the metal genome. Humanity Falls, however, have cooked up a compelling transgenic beast of an album.

So what is the experiment here precisely? Take the unhinged rhythmic essence of Discordance Axis, splice in some slap happy Gorguts DNA, some chop suey Suffocation brutality and add a bit of otherworldly Immolation anti-melody. Lastly, inject some absurd Larry LaLonde guitar madness and see where it takes us. If this doesn't sound appealing to you on paper, you should stop reading right now.

Before I skip off on an ecstatic exegesis of Ordaining The Apocalypse, you've got to know that this is a self-produced affair. The mix on the album is raw but ultimately comfortable and punchy. I wouldn't mind if the guitar was a bit further in the forefront, but the organic recording draws out a genuine vitality that might otherwise be squashed.

Any exploration of the Discordance Axis aesthetic would be DOA without some righteous drumming. Edward Bednarek definitely has what it takes. He's got a lock on that unrestrained, whip-crack Dave Witte vibe, overflowing with lightning fast fills. Although Ordaining The Apocalypse has a loose, click-track be damned soul, the drumming here sounds nothing short of amazing to my unprofessional ears.

Most of the experimental spirit on Ordaining The Apocalypse is expressed through the guitar work of Ammo Diaz. “No Room For Ingenuity” kicks off the album with slip n' slide Gorguts riffs spliced onto a grind corpse. Absolutely incredible, tight grinding death metal riffage frequently unfurls into free-form noise before coiling back around the taut drumming. Strange melodies seesaw over raging blast beats to create a pleasantly unsettling atmosphere.

Eston Browne's guttural roar bears an uncanny resemblance to Frank Mullen in his prime. His voice lends a more brutal air to the proceedings, emanating menace and madness. Floating on top of jack hammer drumming and inhuman riffage, Eston's insane screams churn up a perfect storm of rage. The subtle lyrics deal with persecution, madness, occasional savage violence and unsurprisingly, the apocalypse. An anti-religious sentiment is also enjoyably prevalent. As you can surmise, the subject matter runs more towards the band's death metal heritage, which is fine with me.

Crushing riffage and insane drumming are at the core of this chromosomal curiosity, but some of the best moments on Ordaining The Apocalypse are also the strangest. There are times when the curious riffs make me think distinctly of Primus (minus the bass, of course). “Denounced Manifestation” features a wide open back end where Edward Bednarek lets loose some absurd, freewheeling drum patterns while Ammo sautés some frizzle fry magic. It's superlative. “At The Temple of Everlasting Condemnation” is a tremendous clean guitar instrumental that could have come from the hands of either Gustavo Santaolalla or Trey Azagthoth. The echoing cathedral consonance is a perfect break in the album's brutality.

Ordaining The Apocalypse is an engaging experiment in unrestrained discordance, but constituted of a surprising cohesion. There's a solid sensibility couched in the adventurous nature of these songs that I appreciate. I've been enjoying this album a hell of a lot; many imaginary citrus fruits have met their demise during my listening sessions. I can't help but wonder how Humanity Falls would sound with a full studio treatment. Would a “clean” and vigorous production suck the life out of these tunes? I'm not sure, but I'd love to hear it. This band has tremendous potential, and they kill live.

86/100

Humanity Falls have just recently signed to The Path Less Traveled Records, and the label will release Ordaining The Apocalypse this fall. In the meantime, you can stream it in its entirety on the bands Myspace.

Full Disclosure: The band kindly gave me a copy of the album.

Fuck the Facts, Magrudergrind, Defeatist, Attake - August 7th - Cake Shop, NYC

2010-08-11T22:05:00.008-04:00

I've only heard complaints about Cake Shop as a venue, but my first visit turned out to be a raging good time. In the pantheon of basement venues around New York City, the joint is fairly well decked out. It has an actual stage (albeit only several inches tall), a soundboard and a decent PA system. Sure, the floor slopes strangely down towards the stage. And yes, it's nearly impossible to see the band unless you're in the front. And of course it was a blazing inferno, but what do you expect? I think Cake Shop is what you make of it. I made cake.

My wife made a rare metal-show appearance on this night, if only to surveil the wares in the upstairs café (she's a baker by profession). I descended into the music space as Attake went on, and I quickly realized I'd have to get sneaky if I wanted to see the band (or take any pictures). Attake were quite entertaining, benefiting from a better sound mix than they had at Europa, where I saw them last. The band's meat and potatoes metal assault is great for limbering up the neck. If you were still feeling squeamish at this point, a good spray of sweat from Chloe Puke's hair should have got you in the metal mood.

I snuck underneath the PA system as Attake finished, trying to grab a decent spot for Defeatist. I've been wanting to see these guys for a good while. I couldn't repress giddy fanboy glee as Joel Stallings set up his drums. Even thought I missed the boat on Anodyne, I did feel a certain privilege in being able to witness their rhythm section in action. This was the second week in a row I'd seen Josh Scott play, and his bass rig was still set on 11.

Defeatist ripped through tracks off their new album, Sixth Extinction, as well as an assortment from the various splits and EPs that made up Sharp Blades Sink Deep Into Dull Minds. Aaron Nichols belched out vocals with a genuinely pained expression while slamming out rapid fire riffs from his drop-tuned guitar. Joel Stallings stole the show. The drum sound was incredible, approaching the pulverizing perfection that came though on the bands' early recordings. The Sixth Extinction tracks benefited from the bright snare attack they lacked in the studio. I would have loved to have shot some video, but my position was precarious as the crowd seesawed across the room in sweaty waves. People kept screaming requests for the the band to play faster, but that seemed an absurd proposition.

After a series of unfortunate events, this would be my first time seeing Magrudergrind live. I scooted over to the other side of the stage in between sets, grabbing a spot in front of a pole guarded by familiar faces. This pole proved to be a live-saver in the madness that would ensue.

I totally dig Magrudergrind's self titled LP from last year, and we got a good helping of those tunes. People pretty much went ape-shit bonkers for the band. Tracks like “Bridge Burners,” “Excommunicated” and “Heretics” got a rabid response. Folks somehow managed to crowd surf over the top of the audience without getting killed. Cake Shop's basement was now filled with the parboiled stench of punk sweat. My neck got an excellent workout, but I was saved from the worst of the pit by the aforementioned pole.

The mix for Magrudergrind wasn't quite as articulate as it was for Defeatist, and the guitar sound was a lot more blunt than on the recorded tracks. That Sunlight Studio vibe was mostly absent, but it didn't stop these songs from crushing. Avi Kulawy regaled us with frightening tales of over the top crowd participation at their last Cake Shop show (which I sadly missed). Only once during this set did I see a crowd member tear the microphone from Avi's hand to scream along. Good times.

I only got into Fuck the Facts quite recently. I've checked out their music before, but was never pulled in. The band released a short, free compilation album for Saint-Jean-Baptiste day this year, and that is what eventually hooked me. I started working back from there and finally discovered the glory of Disgorge Mexico. With all of that fresh in my mind, I was particularly excited for this performance.

The band took quite a while to get it together. As far as grind bands go, Topon Das has an almost unreasonably complicated guitar set-up. But then again, Fuck the Facts aren't your average grind band. As they started their set, I was surprised at the excellent sound. The band is absurdly proficient at punctuating raging blastbeats with melodic interludes, and that dichotomy was perfectly articulate in person.

The packed crowd was every bit as wild as it was for Magrudergrind, if only a tad more sparse. Mel Mongeon let loose her maniacal vocals on us while managing to stay deftly disentangled from the crowd. By this point I had no choice but to surrender to the stifling heat and the metal, letting my head bang with abandon. Technical difficulties only slightly marred the end of the set, but otherwise this was a tightly wound and potent performance. This night was a perfect end to a long streak of excellent shows for me.

Now bring on the Wormrot.

There are some excellent pictures of the show (including some appearances of myself) over here and here.

Altar of Plagues, Velnias, Castevet, Man's Gin – August 1st - The Studio At Webster Hall, NYC

2010-08-04T22:43:00.005-04:00

Man's Gin were just starting their set when I got to Webster Hall. I really dig Cobalt, and I've previously expounded upon the virtues of Erik Wunder's clean vocals. The Man's Gin tracks I checked out before the show were quite promising, so I was interested to hear the results in person. I was surprised to see a full band on the stage, replete with stand-up bass and a rickety looking piano. Lacking a proper vernacular to describe this music, I'd have to say the tunes were beautifully depressing. These are songwriter's songs. The frequently simplistic acoustic chord progressions are elevated by Erik Wunder's fantastic vocals and the musical accents provided by the rest of the band. Harmonizing vocals were frequently tossed in by the other band members to create an engrossing soundscape.

Despite the down-home Americana in progress, this was still a metal show. It was nice to see that the venue was nearly full for Man's Gin, and that people seemed to appreciate the music. Chillness was the predominant vibe, but that was about to change. As Castevet set up, I chatted with the guys from Krallice (minus Colin, who's on tour with Dysrhythmia). They were originally on the bill for this show, but the obvious scheduling conflict turned them into spectators. I noticed that the same sound guy from last week was manning the board on this night. I prepared for aural annihilation. Castevet delivered.

Andrew Hock led his band through a roaring set of tracks from Mounds of Ash. I kid you not when I say this was the loudest performance I've ever heard. Ian Jacyszyn's drums slapped us in the face while Josh Scott's bass kicked us in the chest and vibrated the air in our lungs. This was louder than Pantera in an arena. Absolute ear-crushing madness. It actually sounded great with earplugs in, but I wept for any unprotected eardrums in the crowd.

I'm a huge fan of Mounds of Ash. The rhythmic intensity of the album was on full display via the pulverizing volume. It was totally over the top and totally metal. You could feel these songs with your entire body, and my neck got into the act. Castevet is for banging heads. Andrew Hock embodies the intensity of his music, vibrating with energy as he barks out his vocals. This was a whole lot of fun to witness.

That set required a breather, and thankfully re-entry is allowed at The Studio. Velnias set up their gear and wreathed the stage with candles. The band were the dark horse for me on the tour. I'd checked out some tunes on their Myspace page and was intrigued. The tunes made me wonder what Opeth would have sounded like if they'd pushed into the forests of black metal circa Morningrise. The band set up in a curious configuration, with a guitarist and bass player facing inward on the stage, effectively presenting their backs to the crowd. Sure, it was eccentric, but I don't mind that kind of stuff.

Velnias started their set with a new 22 minute long track. It comes from the the self-released single the band are selling on the tour (I couldn't resist picking it up). The packaging gives no indication of the song's name, but it's all win. Once the band churned through the sparse, clean intro, they sprinted off into forests of rage. The sound was slightly less bold for Velnias, but the dark room, cool air and throbbing bass created a fantastic atmosphere. I was blown away by this set. Velnias are black metal filtered through post-rock harmonies and crushing rhythms with passages of sustained speed thrown in. The crowd was engrossed, with hair flying. The set of windmilling manes in front of me added an extra breeze to the chilled air. The band played a few more tunes, including one from their 2008 full-length album, Sovereign Nocturnal. I had a blast.

When Altar of Plagues' White Tomb came out last year, I was over-saturated with ambient black metal. I knew there was something great there, but it was something I'd have to come back to at a later date. Their Tides EP, however, had an immediate impact for me; it knocked my socks right off. I've been spinning these songs constantly with growing anticipation for this show. The passion James Kelly puts into the composition of this music is obvious, but in a live setting that emotion manifests as a quivering, uncontrolled rage; Altar of Plagues are better in person than they are on disc.

Having adjusted my audio expectations for The Studio, I thought the sound was perfect for Altar of Plagues. The band played on a darkened stage, bereft of even candles, again producing a vivid impression of a subterranean ritual. Everyone around seemed to be banging their heads in time to the rolling, mellifluous tunes. Several tracks from White Tomb accompanied the marathon excellence of “Atlantic Light” from the Tides EP. While bass player D. Condon provided throat shredding gurgles through most of the tracks, James Kelly contributed the absolutely anguished semi-clean screaming that elevates this track to greatness.

I thought it was a transformative performance; this was the kind of show where you walk away breathless in the knowledge that you've witnessed something truly great. There are only a few dates left on this tour, but I highly recommend getting out to see Velnias and Altar of Plagues. You won't be disappointed.

A Metal Interlude: Summer Slaughter – August 1st – Irving Plaza, NYC

2010-08-02T21:59:00.004-04:00

My target for this evening was the Altar of Plagues show at Webster Hall. I had an early dinner date in the city with my wife that left me with time to kill. What better way to kill it than at Summer Slaughter? Out of the whole line-up there were only three bands I really wanted to see, and I figured I could catch two of them if the planets aligned properly. Displaying uncharacteristic spontaneity, I strolled up to Irving Plaza and asked them about the set times; it appeared my idea could work.

Irving Plaza was packed to the gills, but evidently not sold out. As I walked upstairs to the venue, Animals as Leaders were starting their sound-check. They were my first objective. Along the way I stopped at Decrepit Birth's merch table, and found Bill Robinson manning it himself; naturally, he's really nice guy. I took the opportunity to pick up a copy of the band's excellent new album, Polarity. I really love buying an album directly from the band.

Animals as Leaders put on a fantastic set of instrumental, spaced out, progified tech-metal madness. The sound was gorgeous, and the packed crowd was surprisingly receptive to the band. Tosin Abasi rocked an 8-string guitar and perfectly conjured up the atmosphere of the band's superlative eponymous debut. Animals as Leaders have something great going on, and the organic flow of their tunes brings to mind the insane perfection of a band like Gordian Knot. I couldn't see if there was any pit action from my vantage point, but the crowd really seemed to appreciate the band's unbrutal inclusion in the bill. Folks around me were bobbing their smiling heads and more than a few were weediling the air-guitars.

The set was unfortunately short, but certainly satisfying. Summer Slaughter is clearly a well oiled machine for time slots, with gear for each subsequent band lined up like a conveyor belt on one side of the venue. I ran into Axl and Vince from MetalSucks between sets, and honestly, can you think of anyone more fun to hang out with during a Carnifex set?

I don't really have anything (positive) to say about Carnifex other than that much of the young crowd enjoyed their performance. I did not. I bid adieu to Axl and Vince to hit the floor again for Decrepit Birth. The band threw down an awesome mix of new and old tracks while Bill Robinson whipped the crowd into a frenzy with his gnarly dreads. The man's paradoxical but intelligent philosophy came through loud and clear in his stage banter, exhorting a peaceful brutality from the crowd.

I wasn't super pleased with the sound for Decrepit Birth's set, but Matt Sotelo's celestial solos rang out loud and clear. Only a tiny bit of the melodic power of the new Polarity material was lost to the mix. Bill Robinson tempted madness by offering free copies of the new album to the first three crowd-surfers who could defeat security and make it up on the stage. The result was a tsunami of bodies on top of the crowd. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the wave did not wash up onto the stage; security won out. As a consolation prize, Bill Robinson tossed a copy of Polarity out into the crowd. It was a nice gesture.

I definitely want to see Decrepit Birth again, and I'll get a chance soon enough. The band announced they'd be hitting the road with Suffocation in the fall. You won't want to miss that one. It would have been nice to see the resuscitated incarnation of Decapitated, but I had to hit the road. My metal interlude was a win. I departed Irving Plaza and started the short walk to Webster Hall.

To be continued...

Immolation, Arsis, Disma – July 28th – The Studio at Webster Hall, NYC

2010-07-30T22:12:00.005-04:00

These are the kind of performances I live for; the shows where perfect sound, incredible feats of musicianship and intimate settings let us step through the looking glass into the meaning of metal. The entire evening didn't entail such glorious suspension of disbelief, but Immolation were certainly true to their name on this night, incinerating the souls of the fans who came out to celebrate their 25th anniversary.

Thursday was my first visit to this underground appendage of Webster Hall. It appears to be a venue capable of both excellent sound and unfortunate muddiness, completely at the whim of the band's equipment and of the person behind the sound board. I came out to the show alone, but the venue was packed with familiar faces. Ross Dolan and Bob Vigna were hanging out at the Immolation merch table speaking with friends and fans. I chatted with them briefly while picking up a T-shirt. They're incredibly friendly guys.

I'd never heard of Disma until they were added to the bill at a late date. New old school death metal is not an instant win for me; many proponents of this resurgence simply do not interest me. Disma, however, have got the extra sauce that gets me drooling. Before the show, I checked out their 2009 demo, The Vault of Membros and was extremely impressed. I only found out later that the band had signed on to record an album for Profound Lore Records. Somehow that came as no surprise.

Disma is comprised of seasoned veterans who served in bands like Incantation, Funebrarum and Goreaphobia at one time or another. Imagine what Incantation would sound like if they'd ever recorded at Sunlight Studios – it's not hard to conjure up a vision of the grisly death that will follow. In person, these songs really win, with excellent and memorable rhythms to accompany compelling riffage.

The audio mix was not optimal for Disma. The guitars were too quiet, blunting the edge of their sound. Although the venue was decently cooled, it was clearly a wretched steam bath up on the stage. Vocalist Craig Pillard seemed to be melting before our eyes. Perhaps the heat was also affecting the rest of the band; apart from some brief headbanging, Dimsa were largely static on stage. I don't think the crowd really cared; there was quite a buzz about these guys and everyone seemed quite engaged by their set. Keep an eye out for Disma in the near future.

Next up were Arsis, whose appearance on this bill was only a little bit strange. I think we can concede that A Celebration of Guilt is a landmark album which I personally still enjoy quite a bit. My interest in Arsis has diminished with each release, however. The crowd seemed split between folks who were rabid fans of the band and a larger group who were mostly indifferent to their performance. I haven't seen Arsis live since they toured with Enslaved in 2007, so I was fairly interested in seeing them play.

The mix was wretched for Arsis' set; the guitars were buried behind the drums and vocals. And really, who wants to watch an exhibition of guitar wizardry when you can't hear the guitars? Some people seemed to be enjoying themselves, but I had to leave the room. It was a shame.

By this point I was in absolute terror that the awful sound would bleed into Immolation's set. As they took the stage I realized that a new face had appeared behind the soundboard, so there was still hope. “The Purge,” the first proper track off their new album, started off the set. The mix was complete perfection; the guitar amps were perfectly mic'd, with the drums and vocals in perfect harmony. Win.

I'm a huge fan of Majesty and Decay; it's certainly one of my favorite albums of the year. The band played a good number of tracks off it, and the crowd was pleased. I was lost in completely blissful headbanging throughout the set. A few folks tried to get pits going, but for the most part we stood there like an enthralled mob of head-bobbing fools.

It's been said before, but Bob Vigna is ridiculous on stage. He plays his instrument like he's performing a bizarre guitar mating ritual. He mouths the words to each song while Ross Dolan roars. Besides demonstrating an endearing eccentricity, these mannerisms really show how much this core duo have communed to give these songs meaning.

Somewhere along the way I realized the dim lighting was going to defeat my negligible photography skills, so I decided to shoot some video. This worked out great for one track, but turned absurd for “Father, You're Not A Father.” As you can see below, I got caught in a mosh. This song really sent the crowd into fits. The band played two tracks off Dawn of Possession; first the obligatory title song, and then “Burial Grounds.” The latter song also started a decent pit.

Steve Shalaty was incredible behind the kit. I loved his drum work on the new album, and those rhythmic accents were appreciably audible in person. It's absurd how well oiled Immolation feels in a live setting. That perfection really manifested for “Unholy Cult,” filled with demented cadence and intricate corkscrew riffing.

“Passion Kill” closed out the set with thunderous consequence, driving that righteously perfect riff home into our cloven skulls. With much pain in the neck, I left the venue sated. The only omission I'd note is the lack of tracks from Here In After, but I can't really complain. This was one of those life-affirming shows that keeps me alive to grind another day.

Soilwork, Death Angel, Augury, Mutiny Within and Swashbuckle – July 16th – Gramercy Theater, NYC

2010-07-28T01:22:00.006-04:00

What a night. I love Swashbuckle, dig Augury, admire Death Angel and celebrate the entire Soilwork catalog, so I was pretty excited for this one. I rode solo on this evening, queuing up outside the venue on a line that stretched around the corner. I instantly felt like a geezer; clearly the crowd for this show was quite young. At the same time, the heat and humidity were preposterous; precious fluids were dripping onto the pavement outside the Gramercy Theater. My only hope was for decent air conditioning in the venue. Not gonna happen.

Once inside the theater I headed straight downstairs to the merch area, which was mobbed. Barred a view of the precious booty, I went into the bar to start drinking. It probably wasn't the best idea. In the lounge area I heard some mopey hipsters complaining about Swashbuckle's pirate regalia. I'll defend this band to the noose, but I was still too sober to engage in a conversation with these fine individuals.

Back upstairs, Swashbuckle's intro music garnered quite a reaction from the growing crowd. The thrash pirates tore straight into tales of pillage from their latest album. A righteous circle pit rotated throughout the band's set, providing a nice breeze in the sweltering corner I had claimed. All the folks around me were plastered with smiles during the plundering performance. The sound was great, but the band sped through each song as if they had one eye on the clock. Clearly there were too many bands on this bill, and Swashbuckle was the first victim. Believe me, “Cruise Ship Terror” was a ripping good time, but the increased velocity of the songs diminished some of the groove that gives these tracks life. Still, it was a great time, and I can't wait for a new album from the pirates three.

Between sets I acquired more alcohol and met up with Justina Villanueva, present as usual to shoot the madness. Mutiny Within took the stage quickly and proceeded to plow through a set that drove the kids wild. I enjoyed the band's debut album quite a bit, but in a live setting Chris Clancy's clean vocals came off a bit too syrupy for my tastes. Some of the young folks seemed to swoon as if we were witnessing a boy band in action. It was very strange. During the set, I started to notice some animosity amongst the rest of the crowd. One guy was doing sit-ups on the floor as if to exhibit a manliness superior to Mutiny Within. Cat calls and heckling were also going on and were genuinely uncalled for. The band persisted admirably and put on good show.

At first pass, I didn't take to Augury's Fragmentary Evidence last year. The album did grow on me though, and I ended up buying it recently. The LP sports some absolutely brilliant moments of technical/progressive death metal, and I was looking forward to catching it live. Augury sounded fantastic. The material really shined in person, but again it appeared that the band was rushing through the set. Front man Patrick Loisel is an eccentric dude, to say the least. He played his guitar upside down, flashed the finger at the crowd, cursed at us and delivered some seriously demented stage banter. Unfortunately, his vocals were almost completely buried in an otherwise decent audio mix. Also, the crowd was absolutely dead for these guys. I'd definitely like to see Augury again with some more enthusiastic fans.

Somewhere during the evening, in an increasing state of inebriation, I was introduced to the dudes from MetalSucks. We had some excellent conversation, as far as I can recall. Very nice guys, but I think the heat, dehydration and drunkenness must have dimmed my recollection of what was said. I do remember talking about the infamous Ziltoid as well as misidentifying the next band as Dark Angel. No, Gene Hoglan was not playing tonight.

My interest in Death Angel never really progressed beyond The Ultra-Violence and Act III, but I was definitely psyched to finally see them live. As the band came out, it was evident that plenty of old folks had showed up for this concert; they had just come fashionably late. The audience was a berserk mess of moshing, crowd surfing and brief circle pits for Death Angel.

The two albums Death Angel put out since their reunion didn't really grab me. Those songs were pretty compelling live, however. The few older songs they played garnered a rabid response from the audience. There's no way in hell you can't wreck out your neck for classic tracks like “Kill as One” and “Seemingly Endless Time.” The sound was pretty much awful during Death Angel's set; the guitars were so loud that they almost defeated the thrashiness of the music, but not quite. Mark Osegueda's vocals were barely audible, but he seemed to be having a great time. By this point I think I was having dehydration hallucinations; the awful pictures I took of Death Angel can attest to that. Still, it was a rockin' good time.

I was so beat after Death Angel that I almost considered skipping Soilwork. The blazing, fetid air inside the Gramercy Theater was just wretched. I doused myself with water in the bathroom and retired high up into the merciful stadium seating to chill out.

I suppose Soilwork is a guilty pleasure for me. I jumped on board with The Chainheart Machine and have been hanging around ever since. Peter Wichers' departure definitely diminished my enthusiasm for the band, but he thankfully returned. I saw Soilwork last year at The Chance, playing what was essentially a greatest hits playlist. I pre-ordered The Panic Broadcast and I'm still thoroughly enjoying it. I was really here to hear some new songs. Much new tunage was had.

Soilwork hit up the new album immediately, playing “ Late For The Kill, Early For The Slaughter” and then “ Night Comes Clean.” I've said it before, but I really dig Björn "Speed" Strid's voice. He fucking brings it live, perfectly reproducing his perilously saccharine melodic vocals. The audio mix was pushing into the red for Soilwork, but it was much better than Death Angel's sound. After a few tracks, the crowd's raucous energy drew me down from my perch, and I waded back into the pit.

Peter Wichers is a riff-machine and a joy to witness in person. His solos rose satisfying above the din to be perfectly audible. Some folks definitely left after Death Angel, but the floor was packed with enthusiastic maniacs throughout this set. We ended up getting five new songs in addition to venerable tracks like “Chainheart Machine,” “ Follow The Hollow” and “ The Flameout.” You could get upset they played nothing from A Predator's Portrait, but I think we can blame that omission on the overburdened bill. I had a great time, and I survived. Somewhere along the way I scored a Swashbuckle beer-coozie. What more do you need in life?

Iron Maiden and Dream Theater, July 12th, MSG, NYC

2010-07-25T21:46:00.002-04:00

My mind was blank on this night as I traversed the labyrinthine caverns of Madison Square Garden to find my seat. Any sense of anticipation I had for this show had dried up somewhere in between the daily grind, oppressive summer heat and debate about Maiden's setlist. I was joined by my cousin Art, trusty Jeremiah and one of Jeanne Fury's clones (how do you think she can be in so many places at once?) This would be my fifth pilgrimage to the altar of the beast, and it would turn out to be a surprisingly satisfying experience.

Dream Theater bounced onto the stage enthusiastically and were clearly excited to be playing The Garden. They started out with “As I Am,” a track from the album that completely turned me off to the band in the not so distant past. I suppose I'm hot and cold with Dream Theater; I enjoy their earlier material and became a desperate fanboy circa Scenes From A Memory. I had a blast with Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence, but I lost the script after that.

I've seen Dream Theater with excellent acoustics on three previous occasions. I thought the booming echo of the arena did a serious disservice to the intricacies of their sound. On top of that, James LaBrie's voice sounded strained at times, at least to my ears. I've tried a couple of times to get into the newer material that comprised most of the set, but I haven't had much success.

The young folks sitting around us appeared to be in rapture. Their reaction at the start of each Dream Theater song was almost double rainbow enthusiastic. I tried to soak in their glee to no avail. Throughout the set I watched the GA pit writhing with bodies and lamented my failure to secure a spot on the floor. I usually avoid arena shows on principle, as distance dims the intimacy I appreciate at metal shows. That distance seemed to be a void for me with Dream Theater on this night. Even the anthemic “Pull Me Under” couldn't pull me out of my stupor.

I love all of Iron Maiden's post-reunion albums, although my enjoyment has decreased slightly with each successive LP. I personally think Brave New World is a classic album; it came out at a singular time in my life and those tracks hold plenty of personal meaning. When the band came out and ripped straight into “Wicker Man” and “Ghost of Navigator,” I was definitely smiling.

An Iron Maiden concert is a communal experience. This band is capable of turning 20,000 people into a single ecstatic, headbanging organism. I don't think you've really lived until you've sung the guitar melodies to “Fear of the Dark” along with an arena full of people. Each member of the band shares a stake in these powers, but it's really Bruce Dickinson that puts Maiden over the top. His boundless energy and enthusiasm are important, but it would all be for shit if he didn't pull off a pitch perfect vocal performance every time.

For what it's worth, our elevated seats gave us a good view of the crowd. Fans old and young were screaming, singing, dancing and throwing copious horns throughout the show. A fellow across the aisle from Jeanne Fury seemed to be having an imaginary dance-off the entire time. The crowd was surprisingly enthusiastic about the newer material. I think the post-millennial tracks served to frame the classics in a nice light.

I was certainly rewarded for having no expectations about this show. The newer songs sounded fresh and exciting to my ears. The band had been rotating a few songs in and out of the setlist early in the tour, but later abandoned the idea. I would have killed to see “Paschendale” live, but it was a casualty to the cutting room floor. I really shouldn't complain, though; this was a fantastic show and a fantastic night.

Castevet – Mounds of Ash (Profound Lore, 2010)

2010-07-05T21:37:00.004-04:00

Castevet have got something tremendously original going on. Mounds of Ash appropriates the melodic landscape of ambient black metal but eschews the droning passivity. Instead, Castevet present us with a rhythmically engaging experience that draws just as much from the world of noisecore as it does from frostbitten grimness. Melancholy ricochets off rage to produce a palpable tension, and that conflict manifests as pure auditory joy.

Andrew Hock's fascinating guitar riffs move between the comforting swarm of black metal, dissonant hardcore and haunting minor-chord arpeggiations. All the while, Ian Jacyszyn and Josh Scott churn up a polyrhythmic maelstrom. The result is frenetically tactile; this is the kind of album that makes you want to pound on the steering wheel, bang on your desk or just plain bang your head.

Andrew Hock's guitar melodies convey a serious melancholy, but the rhythm section never lets us mope or dwell on that sadness. In many ways, this dichotomy brings to mind the glory of Anodyne (bassist Josh Scott was also in that band) and the spirit that Mike Hill morphed into Tombs. “Wreathed in Smoke” is a prime example of this tension; the semi-acoustic arpeggiation might taste of sadness, but Ian Jacyszyn's drumming doesn't let you soak in it. Along the way, brass slowly enters the sonic field, then everything fades away and the horns stand alone to end the track. This somber intonation sounds exactly like the Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant siren (only a few miles from my house), and that's more disquieting to me than you can imagine.

Andrew Hock's vocals are fantastic; each line rips from his throat in a cathartic rage. I saw this band live before hearing the album, so I can't but help visualize the brutal tremors that seemed to wrack the man's body as he expelled these vocal demons. This brings me to my only gripe with Mounds of Ash; there are no printed lyrics. I've seen mention of this in a few places, but when so much effort goes into the atmosphere of an album, you damn well bet I want to know what they're singing about.

The production on Mounds of Ash is of exceptional quality. This is by far my favorite of Colin Marston's recordings. The guitars are perfectly balanced against the rhythmic insanity that pervades the album, and Josh Scott's rabid bass lines have the perfect amount of space to smack you around.

Mounds of Ash is a success to my ears on several levels; these tunes are interesting and memorable, while the turgid rhythmic undertow demands your full attention throughout. The album clocks in at just under 40 minutes, and this is a perfectly digestible dose of dissonance for me. I'm definitely looking forward to Castevet's future output, and I'm excited to see them again live.

92/100

Castevet Myspace

Hooded Menace - Never Cross The Dead (Profound Lore, 2010)

2010-06-15T13:37:00.005-04:00

I like some spice in my doom; I prefer when there's some movement at the funeral. Hooded Menace manage to run the table and display a mastery of everything dismal while incorporating skull shattering elements of mid-paced and melodic death metal. The result is an incredibly dynamic and engaging album. Never Cross The Dead is a juggernaut of funereal entertainment.

My favorite doom/death albums, like My Dying Bride's The Dreadful Hours for example, display dynamism of tempo as well as melodic memorability. Hooded Menace nail that aesthetic. I've been walking around with the guitar melodies from this album imprinted on my brain ever since it showed up in the mail.

When you bring the Bride to the funeral, you're also inviting the angst ridden Gothic Gruyère. Hooded Menace avoid that unfortunate pitfall by instead inviting hungry undead Templar Knights, mad men, monsters and grave-robbing fiends. The lyrical horror here is at turns campy and gore splattered, but consistently entertaining. Lasse Pyykkö's vocals are the sweet guttural sauce on this metal brain-pie. His incredible death-dealings manage to approach Michael Mikael Åkerfeldt's vocal mastery in Bloodbath.

Lasse Pyykkö is a ravaging riff machine as well as the mastermind behind Hooded Menace. In contrast to the moments of plodding dirge, his crushing death-riffs inspire me get up and sprint around my house looking for brains to devour. The guitar tone is incredibly satisfying, conveying the crystal clear darkness of a bottomless abyss. These riffs frequently move with a gargantuan swing, from which tentacles of melody unfurl to trip up your attention. Absurdly catchy death metal episodes burst from side-halls to unexpectedly disembowel you. Grotesque galloping riffage induces you to run for your life while simultaneously juicing oranges and banging your head.

When it comes down to it, funeral doom consistently fails to hold my attention. Hooded Menace, on the other hand, grab me by the throat. Yes, there's plenty of creeping, crawling slowness here, but it's simply the low end of a wide spectrum of momentum on Never Cross the Dead. If you've even got a passing interest in doom/death, you should check out this putrid mutant beast of an album.

87/100

Hooded Menace Myspace

Castevet, Woe, Batillus & Flourishing - June 7th - Lit Lounge, NYC

2010-06-08T16:12:00.006-04:00

It pained me to miss this show last night, but luckily Zosimus of the mighty Flaming Tusk was there for the action. He kindly agreed to write up the show for this blog and took some great pictures as well. So without further ado, the first ever guest post on Mindful of Metal:

Atanamar would have liked to have been at this show himself, but as the will of Satan saw fit to strand him in unholiest Denver (never mind the megachurches), I was elected to take his place and report on the night's events at the great and terrible Lit Lounge.

Curran Reynolds, proprietor of the weekly Precious Metal showcase, put this bill together as a birthday present to himself and received the best gift a promoter can hope for: a packed house. I've never seen so many people at a Precious Metal night. Not even the ones I've performed at, YOU FUCKERS. Curran's immense personal popularity aside, I think this might have had more to do with the show being Castevet's release party for their new Profound Lore disc Mounds Of Ash, plus the fact that all the bands on the bill have been copiously babbled about on the internet and in print of late. And deservedly so.

Flourishing kicked off the show without bothering to announce who they were because I guess we should just know, or it's not cool or metal or something to be all HEY WE'RE FLOURISHING AND THIS IS THE SHOW NOW etc. Jerkasses. Anyway. Flourishing plays grindy techdeathy jams with all the thrust and drive you'd want from that sort of thing. Whatever the guitarist was playing was raging, if somewhat indistinct during their grindier moments, and the bassist was making attempts to provide the onslaught with a center, but the real star of the show with Flourishing is the drums. Dude is a machine, and I got the impression I would have had a pretty good time even if he'd played the whole show by himself. Flourishing has a cool t-shirt.

Local boys Batillus were next up, and these dudes understand heaviness. In the grand tradition of their forebears, they play their psychey doomsludge through Orange, Green and Sunn amps, and I'm pretty sure I never heard any tone that could be referred to as “treble” at any point in their set. Oh, except from their psychotically possessed vocalist/synth artist frontman, a guy with waist-length blonde dreadlocks like so many pallid tentacles of a trench-dwelling sea monster. He won my heart when he went up to scream maniacally in the faces of two drunken douchebags down in the front of the crowd, and they were actually startled. Batillus play some really creepy, creative, interesting stuff (guitar parts that manage to be both minimalist and crushing), and their live show brings it hard. The girls seem to like them, so that's rock 'n' roll.

Second to last came Woe. Woe does exactly one thing: they play furious, blurry black metal. They are good at it, if you like that sort of thing. Woe's frontman is an angry guy. At times I couldn't tell if the drummer was losing the thread a bit or not, but most likely it was the usual drift that comes with playing crusty black metal beats all the time in a less than sonically perfect environment. I did appreciate that the bassist was clearly audible to contrast with the mushy roar of the guitars. I wish Woe had something more distinctive about their sound or songwriting that would move me to say more about them, but they're kinda one-note. On the rare occasions that they dropped into something approaching a riff with a groove I began to dig them, but it's hard to do that sort of thing very much and still be a properly bestial black metal band, I guess. This one chick was doing something that I guess you'd call “dancing” through their whole set, so I will cop to possibly being in the unmoved minority.

Finally it was the belle of the ball's turn on the floor, and the crowd swelled appropriately. Castevet are pretty cool. They have a gooey black metal core, but it's wrapped in a crunchy shell of interesting riffs and melodies with some creative song structures. In the past I've likened them somewhat to Krallice, and while both bands exhibit what I've come to think of as “literate NYC black prog” (aka beardiness?) Castevet definitely sounded like their own entity at this show. They're a three-piece, but they've learned how to sound immense; each of the instrumentalists has carved out a sonic space for themselves, and they inhabit those niches with confidence. The guitar tone is killer (okay, so I'm a bit of a gear nerd, fuck off) and, like with Flourishing, the drumming is excellent. I think the band's parents were at the show.

And the girls liked 'em, so that's rock 'n' roll.

All words and pictures by Zosimus

Random Memorial Day Music

2010-05-31T21:41:00.004-04:00

In addition to orchestrating a glorious BBQ feast, I also worked quite a bit this weekend. To allay my resentment at having to work through the gorgeous weather, I went random on my music collection again. Here's what happened:

Alice In Chains - MTV Unplugged - Brother
Black Sabbath - The Dio Years - Children Of The Sea [Live]
Iron Maiden - Iron Maiden - Phantom of the Opera
Suffocation - Effigy Of The Forgotten - Effigy Of The Forgotten
Clash - The Story Of The Clash-Volume 1 (Disc 2) - Janie Jones
Emperor - Prometheus - The Prophet
Enslaved - Eld - For Lenge Siden
The Clash - London Calling - Spanish Bombs
In Flames - Lunar Strain - Subterranean-Everlost (Part II)
Social Distortion - Mommy's Little Monster - Another State of Mind
Napalm Death - Enemy Of The Music Business - Vermin
Slayer - South Of Heaven - Read Between The Lies
Mastodon - Remission - Trainwreck
The Rolling Stones - Exile On Main Street - Torn And Frayed
Soilwork - Stabbing The Drama - Distance
Slough Feg - Atavism - Eumaeus the Swineherd
Johnny Cash - At Folsom Prison - Dark As The Dungeon
Lock Up - Hate Breeds Suffering - Broken World
Gordian Knot - Emergent - Arsis
Montana Skies - Montana Skies - Gymnopedie #1
Pantera - Far Beyond Driven - Becoming
Against Me! - Americans abroad!!! Live in London!!! - Americans abroad
Immortal - Damned In Black - Against The Tide (In The Arctic World)
Slough Feg - Hardworlder - Tiger! Tiger!
Obscura - Cosmogenesis - Infinite Rotation
Bruce Dickinson - The Chemical Wedding - King In Crimson
Sepultura - Chaos A.D. - Clenched Fist
Immolation - Shadows In The Light - Shadows In The Light
Guns N' Roses - G N' R Lies - Used To Love Her
David Russell - Plays Baroque Music - Sonata in C Major, K.308
Arch Enemy - Burning Bridges - Angelclaw
Defeatist - Sixth Extinction - Petit Mort
The Faceless - Planetary Duality - Prison Born
Pantera - Cowboys From Hell - Clash With Reality
Mike Ness - Cheating At Solitaire - Dont Think Twice
Insect Warfare - World Extermination - Armored Virus
Swashbuckle - Back To The Noose - Splash-N-Thrash
Opeth - Orchid - Forest Of October
Immolation - Majesty And Decay - Divine Code
Squash Bowels - Grindvirus - Anodal Closing Odour
Nasum - Shift - No Paradise For The Damned
Genesis - Archive: 1967-75 [Disc 1] [Live] - The Chamber Of 32 Doors
Dissection - The Somberlain - A Land Forlorn
Iron Maiden - Iron Maiden - Running Free
Death - Live In L.A. (Death & Raw) - Symbolic
James Blackshaw - The Cloud of Unknowing - Mirror Speaks, The
Primus - Tales From The Punchbowl - Del Davis Tree Farm
The Amazing Royal Crowns - The Amazing Royal Crowns - King Of The Joint
My Dying Bride - Turn Loose the Swans - The Crown of Sympathy
Napalm Death - From Enslavement To Obliteration - Sometimes
Suffocation - Pierced From Within - Suspended In Tribulation
Dark Tranquillity - The Mind's I - Still Moving Sinews
Amon Amarth - The Crusher - Master Of War
Misery's Omen - Hope Dies - Celestial Trinity
Kreator - Hordes Of Chaos - Hordes Of Chaos (A Necrologue For The Elite)
Primus - Frizzle Fry - Spegetti Western
Entombed - Wolverine Blues - Eyemaster
Opeth - Still Life - The Moor
Death - Individual Thought Patterns - Trapped in a Corner
Link Wray - Rumble! The Best Of Link Wray - Climbing A High Wall
Lamb Of God - As The Palaces Burn - Vigil
Dimension Zero - Silent Night Fever - Not Even Dead
Burst - Origo - Where The Wave Broke
Napalm Death - Enemy Of The Music Business - Cure For The Common Complaint
Immolation - Close To A World Below - Lost Passion
Cobalt - Gin - Two-Thumbed Fist
Bob Dylan - The Essential Bob Dylan-Disc 1 - Don't Think Twice, It's All Right
Enslaved - Monumension - Hollow Inside
Primus - Pork Soda - Pork Chop's Little Ditty
Iron Maiden - Seventh Son Of A Seventh Son - The Prophecy
Discordance Axis - The Inalienable Dreamless - The End of Rebirth

Gorguts, Portal and Krallice – March 26th – The Knitting Factory, Brooklyn

2010-05-28T09:28:00.005-04:00

The temperature reached 94 degrees on this balmy evening, but even the thought of being boiled alive in the Knitting Factory couldn't detract from my excitement for this show. Jeanne Fury and I rocked some serious Taco Chulo beforehand and rolled into the venue fat and happy. We saw Justina Villanueva outside, who has been out on the road documenting this tour on film. One bit of insider information she passed along was that "Blacky" Thériault of Voivod was running the soundboard. It was a good omen.

Bloody Panda started off the show on time, which made me quite happy. Their brand of avante garde doom certainly isn't my cup of tea, but they put on a bizarre if not entertaining show. Yoshiko Ohara howled, chanted and screamed (the blood curdling variety) along with a crushing dirge of doom. Her counterpart, Gerry Mak, accompanied her in a dry throated rasp. Guitar player Josh Rothenberger smashed slow motion chords that evoked a harrowing atmosphere. Of most interest to me is the fact that Bloody Panda share a rhythm section with Krallice. It was fun to see Nick McMaster and Lev Weinstein plying something a little bit different from the high speed sauce they spew in Krallice. I spoke to Lev later on and asked him how he had the patience to play tunes so much slower than his usual fare. He said it was actually quite fun, if not cathartic, to do the doom thing; the crawling rhythms give him the opportunity to pound the living hell out of his drums on each beat.

Krallice set up quickly, since half their gear was already on stage. They kicked off their set well ahead of schedule. There's not much I can say about these guys that I haven't already said. Krallice are simply badass on stage. The sound was much better than their last outing at the Knitting Factory. The set consisted almost entirely of new songs. The musical minds in this band move faster than the gears of the music industry – they already have a new album in the can and are constantly looking to the future. Each of the new songs has a distinct personality and recognizable melodic movements. I can only imagine the next Krallice album will be another step on the steep slope of their upward trajectory.

Having said that, I'm starting to notice a certain tension in the crowds at their shows. Krallice are quickly gathering new fans who worship their recorded material in a way that only music fanatics can. When the band come out and play a set of new material, it can be disappointing to some of these folks who only want to hear their favorite songs. You know them; the guys who scream out song titles at the band throughout the set? The excellent “Time Husk” would have to satisfy them on this night.

The changeover for Portal took quite a while, and during that time Jeanne and I were introduced to Seth of Baroque, Bleak, Brutal (and the band Gods of Fire) as well as Elise of Reign in Blonde. Very cool folks. It was great to meet more genial members of the metal blogger community. It was also interesting to get a completely different perspective on the bands playing this evening.

Portal's music has grown on me tremendously. My initial reaction upon hearing Swarth was probably par for the course; the album was outlandish, strange and off-putting. But in the end it won me over. The members of Portal came out on stage, as is their custom, in hoods and costumes that fully obscure their identities. I honestly don't care for the theatrics, but I can appreciate the value of a good stage show. The temperature in the Knitting Factory had risen incredibly over the course of the evening, to the point of distraction. Throughout Portal's set I kept wondering if these guys were going to pass out on stage from dehydration. The vocalist, The Curator, was draped in the most extensive set of robes, and he limited his movements to dramatic gesticulations. He drank water from a water bottle THROUGH his hood, which seemed impractical at best.

I'd formed a hypothesis that, in a live setting, the drumming would take a more commanding role in Portal's music. I was completely wrong, and therein lies one of Portal's greatest peculiarities. The band have no conventional sense of rhythm. The drums follow the guitars in their abstract, swarming dance and hide deep in the mix. For the most part, the guitars were well mixed and very audible. The ebb and flow of the wave-like melodies and unmelodies became semi-hypnotic. Ultimately, though, the performance wasn't as immersive and enthralling as I'd hoped, mostly due the uncomfortably hot conditions. Many people describe a Portal performance as scary or somehow disquieting. I didn't get that sense at all; we are, after all, fans of death metal. The atmosphere Portal create is interesting and impressive, but in no way actually frightening. In the end, it was an entertaining set, but I'd love to see Portal again on a cooler day.

As I found out on Friday night, Luc Lemay is a jolly and downright friendly guy. He recognized me at the merch table when I went to buy a t-shirt, and he shook my hand mightily. When Gorguts stepped on stage, you could tell the man was sincerely happy to be there. The band opened up with an instrumental number that I believe was new. This was followed by the self-titled track off From Wisdom To Hate. The band sound fantastic and have a great chemistry. Kevin Hufnagel complements Luc Lemay's obtuse guitar playing perfectly, and Colin Marston brings ridiculous skill and energy to the complex bass-lines of a Gorguts track. This incarnation of the band just exudes energy and the joy of shredding. Clearly, Luc Lemay loves the band of young go-getters he's shacked up with.

The crowd was ecstatic and burst into a pit several times. The setlist covered all four Gorguts studio albums. “Obscura” was mind blowing, and the perfect sound helped immensely. I think that two other new songs were played, and each had the distinct flavor of latter era Gorguts. If I'm not mistaken, the excellent track “Nostalgia” off Obscura also made an appearance. “Orphans of Sickness” brought the satisfying technical edge that originally got me into Gorguts. This was simply an amazing performance. Gorguts are going to annihilate the Maryland Death Fest this weekend.

Luc Lemay announced during the show that Gorguts would be recording a new album at the end of this year, to hopefully come out in 2011. The set closed out with “The Erosion of Sanity” and raucous cheering from the crowd. It was an immensely rewarding show that I'll remember for a long time. The band came out for one encore and played “With Their Flesh, He'll Create.” Exactly.

Flourishing and Ingrowing - May 21st - The Charleston, Brooklyn

2010-05-25T10:37:00.007-04:00

This was the first show I'd ever attended where each and every band was of the grindcore persuasion. It was, quite literally, a blast. Ingrowing were certainly of interest, but it was really Flourishing that got me to come out on this night. I couldn't pass up a chance to check out the band whose debut EP blew my head off.

I was under the impression the show would start at 8:00, but bands were still loading in an hour after that. I wasn't concerned at the time; Jeanne Fury and I enjoyed the excellent beer at the Charleston while watching the Yankees embarrass the Mets on the television. Justina Villanueva joined us after a while. We eventually felt the sounds of metal reverberating from the basement and descended into the Charleston's austere subterranean music space.

The first band up was Buckshot Facelift from Long Island. These guys have evidently been around for a while, and my cursory listen to their music on Myspace had me quite interested. Buckshot Facelift certainly didn't disappoint. The sound system in the basement of The Charleston consisted of two lonely PA speakers. Despite this, every band sounded fantastic on this night. Napalm Death was the primary impression I got from the band, who displayed all around precision and skill. The imposing front-man, Will, prowled the floor while emanating absurdly guttural grunts and yells. He definitely brought to mind Barney but with the added ability to produce an unearthly, bubbling gurgle. The bass was high in the mix and gave everything a nice bounce. I was impressed enough to want to buy some of their music. Unfortunately for me, their newest album, Anchors of the Armless Gods, was only available in vinyl. That makes three shows so far this year where I wanted to buy a CD and the band only had vinyl. Ponder that.

The next band was Backslider from Philadelphia. The band consisted of two dudes who looked incredibly young. Their looks, however, belied their absurd skills. The guitar player took care of vocals while plying a grind/hardcore/powerviolence hybrid that mostly evoked Magrudergrind to my untrained ears. The drummer sat low on the floor and played with such extreme energy and speed that folks in the crowd pushed up just to see what he was doing. His facial expressions were a sight to behold. People stood there with looks of amazement on their faces as the band whipped out an array of songs that mostly clocked in at less than a minute. Very cool. This was the point where I really started to regret having forgotten my camera.

The basement space had filled in quite nicely, and I started to recognize faces in the crowd. Aaron Nichols of Defeatist enjoyed a beer while Andrew Hock of Castevet enjoyed many beers. Eventually, the guys from Krallice showed up with Kevin Hufnagel of Dysrhythmia and Luc Lemay of Gorguts in tow. You have to understand that I'd been drinking for quite a while at this point, and I somehow ended up having a conversation with Luc Lemay. It's hard to be starstruck when you're jammed into a dark basement, but it was even harder to understand what the man was saying; I find a French Canadian accent impenetrable at the best of times. The main thing I gathered from the conversation was that he was truly excited to get Gorguts back out on the road and even more excited to show off some of the new songs they'd written. He even rattled off a list of songs the band were practicing for the tour, but I could barely comprehend it. My impression was that it clearly spanned the entire Gorguts catalog. The guy was gracious to indulge in conversation with a complete drunken stranger, so I appreciated that. I'm very much looking forward to seeing them in Brooklyn on Wednesday.

The Communion set up next, and you could tell a good number of people had come out to support them. I believe this was the band's first show without their recently deceased guitarist, Lee Altomare. While I'm new to the band's music, I'd read about Lee's passing in various places. The vocalist, Nick, spoke briefly about Lee before breaking the somber mood and kicking into the music. The Communion draw from a mind numbing array of influences, but their unique grinding blackened crusty thrash was a beautiful thing to behold in person. Simultaneously tight and flailing madly in all directions, I can totally dig this music. After fulfilling their upcoming touring plans, which includes the Maryland Death Fest this weekend, the band plan to change their name and soldier on in Lee's absence as Kanalbrigade. I'd definitely check these guys out if you're heading to MDF.

I got a chance to speak to Eric Rizk, Flourishing's friendly bass player. He told me Flourishing were planning to play some new songs, and that the venue had a supposed 1:00 curfew. The band had swapped billing spots with Ingrowing, who were hoping to get out of the venue early to grab some extra sleep. A bit of jet lag is understandable when you're traveling from the Czech Republic, I suppose. This didn't bode well for me, as the evening was already moving past midnight, and my commuter rail carriage definitely turns into a pumpkin. Ingrowing set up quickly and drove deep into their unrelenting, jackhammer take on grindcore. They sound similar to Misery Index to my ears, and their recorded music wouldn't generally be my cup of tea. The band, however, sounded great and everyone in the room seemed to be rocking out hard to their performance. Vocalist and bassist Patrik "Vlakin" Stanek thanked us repeatedly for showing up in a very broken English, but his joy in simply being there was infectious. The rhythm section were tight as hell, and the sound was particularly good. Ingrowing certainly make music that comes across well in the live setting, despite a complete lack of groove. Jon Chang would approve. They're also playing again in NYC at Fontana's this Thursday and at MDF this weekend.

Flourishing set up incredibly fast. The band, playing on their home turf, definitely had the most complicated gear setup of the evening. At the very least, Brian Corcoran's drum kit was an order of magnitude bigger than anyone else's. A track from their mind-crushing debut EP led things off. The first thing that became apparent was that the rhythmic insanity of the recorded music is no studio magic. Brian Corcoran and Eric Rizk fucking tear it up while Garett Bussanick saws his guitar with blinding speed and howls unreservedly. As promised, I'm pretty sure the band played a couple of new songs, which sounded incredible. These guys are the real deal.

By the fourth song I realized I was in the red for time. It broke my heart to leave while Flourishing were destroying the joint, but Metro North is a harsh mistress. My business with this band is unfinished; I definitely need to see them again. They're playing at Castevet's record release show at the Lit Lounge on June 7th, but I'll be out of town. It'll happen eventually.

I spent the entire train ride home trying to wrap my alcohol-addled brain around my chat with Luc Lemay. What the hell did he say?

You can find pictures of this show here.