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lunedì 9 settembre 2019

Exhumation - Seas of Eternal Silence

BACK IN TIME:
#FOR FANS OF: Death Metal, Death
Alongside Shadows Fall, Jungle Rot, and Hecate Enthroned, the Greek incarnation of Exhumation released its first album in 1997 to round out a diverse expanse of underground metal debuts during this waning period of the '90s. What makes Exhumation stand out among that list of comparatively more successful releases is how deep a diamond this band is in the rough. Finding few friends among the three other stillborn starts from other outfits under the same name by that year (and five more since) this Greek iteration finds itself digging its heels into the thrashier end of the death metal spectrum in order to provide a staunch bedrock on which to build its more melodic moments.

Engulfed in erratic percussive energy, lamentatious guitar is swallowed by whirlpools of melancholy washed with orchestral swings as Exhumation attempts to navigate its 'Seas of Eternal Silence'. Where the Hellenic quintet is characterized as melodic death metal for its flowing guitars hinging on accessible arrangements that end up enchanting with delicate diminishing measures, this outfit doesn't shy away from the intensive thrashing roots of death metal that so many bands in the melodic offshoot seemed to have shunned in subsequent years when infusing their own styles into the substantial beatdown necessary to elicit such anguished harmonies.

Exhumation shines by taking a quintessentially Death sound in “Dreamy Recollection” right off its strict rails into a broad melodic tangent through such a drastic deviation that it would definitely satisfy Schuldiner's more progressive sensibilities. Starting out with the hammering snare and rolling double bass from Pantelis Athanasiadis, shredding guitars from Panos Giatzoglou and Marios Iliopoulos provide an imposing thunder thickened by the bass handled by John Nokteridis as his vocals give a gruff scream until a raucous chorus comes up. Curt bellows of heaving melody crash into the meter and fall back into the atonal treble rhythm like white caps appearing in a battleship grey surf. Holding onto its hammering initial structure and squeezing it into a kaleidoscope of creativity puts this song evenly on the fence between 'Leprosy' and 'The Sound of Perseverance' in a way that honors the waning career of Death while Exhumation also forces itself forward from miring in its own grief to actively embracing the coming storm. While the band cannot help but mollify its passages in “Ceaseless Sorrow” and let its anguish flow, Exhumation makes sure to fight through its anguish with the furious trappings of extreme metal to make for a fruitful journey rather than a fitful forlornness.

Regal synth sounds common to albums like 'In the Nightside Eclipse' or 'Dark Requiems... and Unsilent Massacre', usually employed in ominous interludes between aggressive moments, end up becoming a beautiful baying backdrop to the crumbling curls of emotional melodies expanding the title track from its furious base into a melancholic motion. In “Forgotten Days” this synth seamlessly blends into the breathy space between brash lead guitar notes and whips the groovy mechanical rhythmic interlude into majesty as this synthetic orchestration, hammered by the desolation of the drumming, meets the human acumen for improvisation to ramp up the delirious depression before becoming trapped in a melodic whirlpool with its tentacular appendages inhaled by the sea.

Still, what becomes increasingly noticeable throughout this album is that Exhumation, while plotting out some compelling endpoints to its apogees, has trouble forging the path to those places without losing its way in filler where it would benefit to make a clean break. Where the band's ideas are expansive, shortening some of its songs and tightening up its structure would likely allow a wider range of ideas to come forth. Cutting off one grotesque head in order for two to come up, Exhumation could conjure its own hydra without losing itself in the tumultuous middle passages of each voyage. Though it is true that storms like these provide the drama necessary to start a shanty, not every cruise leaves a fleet as lost as Odysseus. This uncertainty seems as much due to Exhumation's influences, starkly sourced from Sepultura in the likes of “Passing Suns”, as it seems the band was wowed by the achievements of early Death and the increasingly extreme thrashing troupes throughout the style's early years and provides an honest attempt at emulation but simply has trouble rounding itself out as gracefully as it had in “Ceaseless Sorrow”.

Regardless, Exhumation's forthright and impressive first full-length is made even more inspiring in its placement in time. Released six months and five days prior to Amon Amarth's first full-length, 'Seas of Eternal Silence' is an album that harbors its intensity with the foreboding contraction of an ocean and expresses itself in the indefatigable onslaught of a tsunami when it finally rips out of its malaise. “Guilts of Innocence” riles itself up from the thrash drum cadence into roiling blast beating that provides apogee to its assault and finally is able to blend itself into the aggressive atonality that compliments with percussion the lofty ambitions of the treble that, through this frantic piece, pits Death's thrashier momentum up against the increasing velocity of an emerging generation. A curious aspect of Exhumation's art is in how closely it sticks to the oldschool elements of early death metal. Showing its uneasiness with the hyper-aggressive approach of the new blood, Exhumation comes across as a demonstration of this transitional time in the traditional death metal approach, showing an appreciation for the aggression of the previous years while attempting a more artsy attitude in its own execution. (Five_Nails)


(RRS/Vic Records - 1997/2019)
Score: 87

https://www.facebook.com/exhumation

mercoledì 21 agosto 2019

The Glorious Dead - The Glorious Dead Imperator of the Desiccated

#PER CHI AMA: Brutal Death
Un po' di insano marciume dagli States con questo 7" targato Glorious Dead: due i brani per quello che sembra essere un side project del quartetto formato tra gli altri da J. Humlinski (Feast Eternal) e M. Rytkonen (Prosthesis, Slaunchwise, Charnel Valley, Bindrune Recordings), che ci propinano due marcescenti pezzi di death metal che affondano le proprie radici nei gloriosi anni '80-90. "Mangled Cerebration" apre le danze con la sua inaudita ferocia che però assai poco ha da chiedere e soprattutto da dare. "Celebrate the Corpse" invece chiude le danze dopo soli nove minuti con un mid-tempo (peraltro mal registrato in sede live) che guarda al doom nella sua prima metà, per poi divampare in un brutal death piatto e senza mordente. Solo per amanti di simili sonorità. (Francesco Scarci)

Voto: 55

A two track demo of downright dirty death metal released on seven inch vinyl as well as in a digital format, 'Imperator of the Dessicated' hearkens to the early improvisational days of the subgenre where viscous imposing guitar tones overrode harsh and disparate harmonies, production was awash with reverb, decaying melody always found itself forced through a blender of atonality, and trading demos as basic and sparse as this kept the medium alive. From such a clearly crafted first impression, it's no wonder that The Glorious Dead hopes to evoke that raw early death metal sound and shapes it with flying tremolos, bassy production, and squealing guitar solos that make “Mangled Celebration” as seemingly chaotic as it is emulating the style from a retrospective perspective. The second single on this EP, “Celebrate the Corpse” starts at a crawl that sounds more like it was recorded at a backyard party than at a proper venue. Through audible crowd noise that even the blast beats can't drown out, The Glorious Dead holds its sound down well in a live setting with merely production is holding the band back, but what the outfit needs now is to elaborate on its start and show some authentic and one-of-a-kind personality in its music. As redundant as these two track titles are, the clear breadth between both gives this short EP some semblance of personality to this bare bones release. Though The Glorious Dead makes little of a name for itself on this short seven inch, the band gives some insight into a foundation from which it could build if the band wanted to attempt something elaborate. (Five_Nails)

(Bindrune Recordings - 2019)
Score: 50

venerdì 12 luglio 2019

Waldgeflüster - Mondscheinsonaten

#FOR FANS OF: Atmospheric Black Metal, Drudkh
Taking its Bavarian black metal style into a more anthemic and delicately adorned place, emotionally gripping high-resolution heartfelt heathendom travails twixt the timbers in search of the message within the 'forest whisperings' where Waldgeflüster finds its namesake. Far less dreary in production than the previous presentation but no less melancholic than 'Ruinen', these tickling strings through gruff folksy laments offer insights into how the fabled fury of black metal blasts and clip clopping cymbals can cry out through the deluges of choking atmospheric layering that make this band's music stand firmly within the boundary of black metal and curiously peek out to the lands beyond.

Epic anguished compositions consist of melancholic treble cries over humming rhythmic strums, the battle hardened black metal blast beat belabored by its forced march through this swirling nihil, and a majesty reached in “Der Steppenwolf” that is as proud as it is concerned with its struggle to endure has been brought to humbling fruition. Played in acoustic at the back end of vinyl versions of this album, these Jekyl and Hyde explorations of this strong song further express the turbulent dichotomous melancholy of being caught between the natures of man and wolf, an aperture through which Waldgeflüster both cherishes and laments the beauty in which it finds itself confined and simultaneously freed.

An echoing mix of awkward twanging and seas of reverb hammered into shape by blast beating makes “Gipfelstürmer” sound as much a storm as an echo of timelessness worn into stone as the longest piece on 'Mondscheinsonaten' dances a skyline of tempestuous gales and rides out a storm of withering emotions. Dense treble rainfall sloshes over thumping percussion as rhythmic vocals call out to the storm and attempt to subvert the deluge until drowning in the cries of cascading strings. Throughout this album is an expansive breadth of emotion with a focus on dragging out melancholic riffs, drowning them in the choral tones of a throaty choir, and accentuating the reverberating strings that twirl in the tremolo swirls of this clear and woeful sighing production.

Expressive sustain behind a trickle of guitar notes flourishes into a haze of grain, growing into a drastic gale of decaying strings struggling to hang on to their escaping breaths. The curvature of a chugging rhythm three minutes into “Rotgoldene Novemberwälder”, uplifted by more droning choral calls behind a rolling percussion, grips the heart with the psychedelic impact of Drudkh and the august heroism of Horn. Like reading the parallels between dramatic mythological rides into a deadly underworld, one is easily enwrapped in the throes of these decaying 'red-gold Novemeber forests' as life fades into another unquiet winter, hurriedly attempting to absorb the last nutrients of a time of plenty before enduring the coming cold. Thus “Und Der Wind...” and “Von Winterwäldern Und Mondscheinsonaten” take up a fierce anthemic mantle, cloaking the fading forest in swirling snow storms and making less distinct and more distant the cries of desperation emanating from the mouths of its victims as the onslaught of winter breeches the woodland refuge.

A breath caught in a whirlwind of emotions, imprisoned by the escapism of imagination within these arboreal walls, and falling to despair in a desperate struggle to stay upright, 'Mondscheinsonaten' strives to survive the privations of its station while still acknowledging the lustrous allure that such natural beauty can inspire in its meandering melodies. Yet still the tear of its fury must succumb to silence, the disquiet of its fitful attempts to survive fall to the desolation of existence's entropy. Such a knowledge is incredibly apparent throughout these foreboding forays yet still so mysteriously lingering between each heave of horrific glory, suggesting a beyond for which to strive despite such distinct decay and despair woven throughout these painstaking passages.

Where a song like “Und Der Wind...” flirts with the basics of a folk rock structure and energizes it with the fury of a black metal brutalization, the general cry of this cavalcade of corrosive textures becomes an understanding of the necessity of decay, the need to die in order to make life worth its struggle, and the endlessness that is entropy for fighting nonexistence through shout and shudder still realizes the same simple reality. Entropy cannot be reversed. (Five_Nails)

Score: 85
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Waldgeflüster is a German band coming from Munich. The German black metal scene is widely known and respected by the fans. There are tons of bands which play a quite orthodox form of black metal, while many others are more interested in playing a sort of black metal heavily influenced by the ancient history of their land, which is commonly known as the pagan black metal subgenre. The German scene of this subgenre is, in my humble opinion, one of the best and the range of bands playing this style is quite rich and interesting. While some bands have a heavy folk influence, using folk instruments more generously, other ones use them sparsely, being a secondary resource used to enrich the music in certain moments. I would place Waldgeflüster in this second group. Musically speaking, Waldgeflüster plays black metal with a certain somber touch, creating a melancholic atmosphere, without lacking the expected aggression in a band whose roots are the black metal genre.

'Mondscheinsonaten' is the fifth album of a band whose line-up has remained quite stable since it became a full band in 2014. Prior to this moment, it was a one-man band created by Winterherz. His talent was already clear in the first and impressive three records entitled 'Herbstklagen', 'Femundsmarka - Eine Reise in Drei Kapiteln' and 'Meine Fesseln'. Going back to the latest record, I can safely say that Winterherz´s touch and talent are still in a very good shape. 'Mondscheinsonaten' is a very nice piece of pagan influenced black metal with the aforementioned dark and somber touch, but with a good range of elements which make the album an excellent work. The album contains seven songs, being some of the quite long as the impressive "Gripfelstürme", probably one of the best if not the best track of this album. It´s a very varied and dynamic track with tastefully composed sections and melodies. This lengthy track includes excellent melodies, some powerful and pagan-esque clean vocals which accompany the usual high-pitched shrieks, as well as intelligently placed atmospheric keys . "Rotgoldene Novemberwälder" is the single of the album and summarizes perfectly the main characteristics of this album. It is an excellently structured song with impressive guitars and background vocals, which make the sound epic yet mournful. Once again the clean vocals, both in the front and in the background, play a major role in making these songs emotional. Even though the top-notch guitars and the already mentioned touching clean vocals are the ones which have the most import roles in 'Mondscheinsonaten', Waldgeflüster successfully use other resources to enrich this work, as some very nicely composed atmospheric keys which are one of the highlights in the very intense and hypnotic track entitled "Und der Wind". Acoustic guitars are also used in different tracks, mainly as a song opener, which is sometimes abruptly interrupted by a purely black metal-ish section or as an introduction to a acoustic esque sung section as it happens in the album closer "Staub in der Lunge". This song perfectly closes this excellent work leaving us a permanent feeling of melancholy.

'Mondscheinsonaten' is undoubtedly an impressive work which confirms Waldgeflüster as one of the best bands in the German pagan black metal scene. With songs having a strong black metal base, the German guys build an album rich in the use of different elements, which makes the listener keep interested from the very beginning to the end. It’s a emotionally very intense album, which I think is something great and makes the music even more special. (Alain González Artola)


lunedì 8 luglio 2019

Lustre - Another Time, Another Place (Chapter Two)

#FOR FANS OF: Ambient Black, Burzum, Mesarthim
Allowing electric sustain to decay into itself, like an ouroboros circling a distant star, “The Light of Eternity” gleams, suspended in space and only slightly changing during its vast lifetime as twinkling sunspots appear and dissipate along the surface of this bubbling sphere of sound. Below is chaos, the grumble of high-efficiency fusion churning vibrations down to string level and hoisting the weight of this newly formed sound by the fabric of space-time. Lustre attempts to burn eternal.

Unlike the previous compilation, the desperation in the howls from the torture of experiencing “The Light of Eternity” takes Lustre into a more dichotomous and significant territory where the drama and majesty of its celestial twinkling transfixes the mind while the achingly static inanity of lesser beings intrigue an artist obsessed with the broad brushstrokes of his universe.

Unfortunately, there is an insufferable inanity to “Waves of the Worm” where no nobility is experienced in its endless undulation. Through seven and a half minutes of a static Pink Floyd synth intro that would not be out of place throughout the opening moments of 'Wish You Were Here' and no songwriting to speak of backing its incessant idleness, this track has less appeal to it than the average Lustre experience and becomes a frustratingly placid piece of pretense even for this artist. For a band as low key and pedestrian as Lustre's music can get, this is a painfully slow disappointment with no redeeming qualities whatsoever.

Where Lustre's previous theme of gradually moving between the seasons and enduring the privations of the most desperate times of year made its early work enchant and lure a listener into its voluminous verses, this second segment of Nachtzeit's compilation series shows the inconsistency that even such a glacial ambient sound can have when a musician has yet to truly nurture his theme and hone his craft. This second chapter in Lustre's 'Another Time, Another Place' series consists of the Swedish bedroom band's earliest demo, 'Serenity' from November 2008, and rounds itself out with the September 2013 EP 'A Spark of Times of Old'. Clocking in only twenty-seven seconds longer than the previous seasonal styled release, this wider scope and breadth of scale from the concerns of the celestial to the minutiae of the minute have some difficulty in capturing the imagination despite displaying the musician's apparent desperation.

Despite “Waves of the Worm” coalescing into a lackluster track, synthetic xylophone returns, clinking along its counterpointing scale in a dull sighing lull, like slowly accepting the gravity of a singularity and observing the abyss overcome all vision in “A Spark of Times of Old” to redeem the release. Surrounded by truly sinister hissing, the dreary atmospheric organ synthetically shapes itself through the tinkle of an incontinent artist curling his spine and shrinking back into the cave from which he has so briefly emerged. After observing the majesty that awaits him, the daunting energies of the ever-burning celestial colossus, and the wretched struggle of the worm wriggling in the filth from which all life emerges, Nachzeit finally crawls back to do what he does best. Crying in his cave, feebly attempting to scare off the creepy crawlies that intrude into his small circle of light, this experiment with the outside world has confirmed his suspicions, there is nothing but dread outside his comfort zone. Instead, Lustre continues to linger, longing for its uninterrupted innocence and seeking simply a safe stagnation. (Five_Nails)

giovedì 4 luglio 2019

Lustre - Another Time, Another Place (Chapter One)

#FOR FANS OF: Ambient Black, Burzum, Mesarthim
Delving into Lustre's back catalog, 'Another Time, Another Place (Chapter One)' unearths an unreleased EP in the form of 'The Ardour of Autumn' (2013) and blends it into a reissue of the 2009 EP, 'Welcome Winter', to round out a forty minute foray into Lustre's ever-inviting comfort zone.

In a world of shrieking solos and furious drum fills, Lustre's delicate and intimate ambiances can leave a listener feeling as though he is the brutish beast accidentally intruding into a fragile shop brimming with decorative curios. The relaxing sigh of this music fogs the mind with easing endorphins as sprays of guitar foam hush the tinny keyboard resonance at the top, surrounding the space behind this crisp tinkering foreground with fuzzy gravitational waves. Like crossing that small shop's threshold and stepping into world stagnating in its antiquity, Lustre leaves the chaos of a city or the battles across a countryside swarmed by foes behind in order to bounce around Balamb or cast a line from Fisherman's Horizon in a mini-game of metal where its majesty is in its sickly sweet musical menagerie melting across an icy landscape and an even more frigid furrowed brow.

Dim flickering melodies happily bounce shadows away, like tongues of flame inviting company into the comfort of newly-created nostalgia. Holding back the chill of autumn breezes, the newly debuted 'Ardour of Autumn' is choreographed like the coordinated drips of condensation accumulating from stalactites as fingers of time run round the rims of glassy puddles of eternity to hum life into such stoic silence. With a background of weighty guitar grain chased down by hushed snarls, even the most sinister muffled shriek becomes a whisper of distant malevolence as fleeting furies etch their echoes into memory.

The bestial backdrop of “The Ardour of Autumn (Part 1)” swells and shrinks the chest like a cigarette sigh by the fire pit while the rest of the plastered party shakes the property's foundation at the basement battle station. A melancholic turn, as though the happy plodding of those sweatshirt-clad evenings has finally ushered in the first snows of November, heralds the drag of evenings into the wee hours of the morning as alcohol affects emotions and the second wind of the night brings a brain bursting with forlorn thoughts, the blur of guitar rising to more prominence in the mix and the peaceful synth shedding small tears tasting of bygone torments so far away yet lingering as woeful reminiscences of one's past innocence.

There is little jauntiness to these highly-structured tunes, merely a relaxing and mystical, brooding and funerary feel that implores a listener to contemplate not only its own relentless embrace but also the wandering thoughts that such strict structures incubate in a brain craving the chaos of creativity. Still, after the ears are deadened by another session of the metalhead's traditional form of therapy, the intrigue and ambiance of Lustre becomes an almost magical nightcap to an evening of howls and growls. (Five_Nails)


mercoledì 17 aprile 2019

Ghost Ship Octavius - Delirium

#FOR FANS OF: Prog Metal, Dream Theater
Through deceptively sweet melodies combined with the theatrics of Dream Theater, Ghost Ship Octavius shows off a sophomore album that is high in concept and lending more opera and progressive digression to its melodic metal template. Light sappy arpeggios fly unfettered through an airy atmosphere, impressively intricate guitar passages are buffeted by robust percussive artillery. Ripping in some sparse places and wailing through many other passages, this Seattle power trio's music is sure to go far enough out on limbs and take the risks necessary to propel its vision seaward but also has to deal with the reality that such exposure and vulnerability in its music can conjure some serious cringe. Still, the drama aboard this vessel throughout this near hour of creativity and instrumental expertise shows the talents of a band able to find a fitting balance between aggression and astonishment.

Released independently in September of 2018 and again in February of 2019 with the backing of Mighty Music, 'Delirium' is surely an ambitious and advanced album from an adept outfit. The opening to “Ocean of Memories” sounds like it was made in tandem with Luster with its lilting bucolic innocence, yet the affectation in the vocals have me expecting a parody in the vein of Ylvis to echo across this tepid protected port rather than this forthright fairy land that Ghost Ship Octavius finds its sails slipping away from. Taking a dramatic turn, the song finds itself embroiled in short-lived conflict with its heftier guitar change churning the waters, but this microburst is only a foreshadowing of the high notes on which the ripping “Saturnine” (with its harsh Gothenburg opening and splashy stomp) leaves the ship solid as it sloshes through stormy seas and swirls around a whirlpool of crying choruses, vibrant harmonies, and plunging percussion.

Sappy openings like that of “Edge of Time” keep the album on a whimsical and light journey as harmonic vocals and opulent movements allude to the bewilderment of the album's namesake and foreshadow every encompassing ensnarement of electrifying energy lingering around every corner. Dancing through an airy atmosphere that becomes a theatrical romp, reveling in its pomp with its expansive riff joined by a classical style chorus that rings as true to the stage as it does to the heart, “Far Below” is magic to the ears with a snare double tap in the opening rhythm allowing the glory of such a catchy moment to erupt from below the profligate arpeggios. In contrast, the descent of “Bleeding on the Horns” gracefully drops with the impact of a head hitting a pillow yet this lovely track's exquisite construction, flourishing instrumentation, and ambitiously marching start show that this album, while balanced towards the eccentricities in each melody, can still bring its hammer to crack against the anvil and shatter the illusion in pinches of peril.

At its essence, Ghost Ship Octavius is what Charred Walls of the Damned could have been if the music wasn't so inundated with ego. While the latter group packed up a bus full of recognizable names and their necessary equipage in order to drive it all off a cliff into a chasm of disappointment, this fresh fellowship features folks from farther reaches of the metal sphere showing off a great balance and stellar songwriting sensibilities. The symmetry of the music's structure keeps the band rising and falling like the frothing of a sea beset by storm and returning to calm throughout this near hour. Yet also 'Delirium' also finds itself enveloped in the oddities of a transcendent scope of sound, one as alluring as spying elaborate coral cities beneath its calmest shimmering shallows and as staggering as attempting to overcome mammoth surf with only hope and timbers separating you from certain death. (Five_Nails)

(Mighty Music - 2019)
Score: 86

https://www.facebook.com/GhostShipOctavius

martedì 16 aprile 2019

Ævangelist - Matricide in the Temple of Omega

#FOR FANS OF: Black/Death, Portal
Often it is an enriching experience to go into something totally blind and without apprehensions, opening a mind to new viewpoints and exploring a fresh style in an album. 'Matricide in the Temple of Omega' by Ævangelist is not one of those experiences. Imagine listening to Soundgarden's “Drawing Flies” for over an hour, except the obnoxious saxophone section breaking the song to pieces is the entire draw to an album replete with ten minute forays into a brash and biting bedlam as inert in justification for its existence as it is annoying in its every aspect. Where at first this chaos may be a challenge to the ear, an occasion to which one may feel he is rising in order to test his personal mettle when encountering the noisy theater of an uncompromising band, Ævangelist's attempts to hypnotize and discomfort an audience end up falling flat in its nihilistic avoidance of the Norwegian norm of obfuscating artistry with cacophonous distortion.

This is easy to notice as “The Sonance of Eternal Discord” falls to a disharmonic change from its curling initial structure that had actually captured the imagination for a slight moment. Instead, the shrill maelstrom melts its many moving parts into a derelict churn that fails to lift the hairs on a neck or curl into an ambiance as satisfying as the likes of Deathspell Omega. The lacking riffing platform from which such high-flying aggravation launches these egregiously long songs grates on you without any eventual endorphin ecstasy. Obnoxious shrieks fill the front with horns that create a wailing resonance like Arabian swells that become noise imbued into the hammering center of “Æeon Death Knell” while a distorted black metal saxophone that no one was asking for does its best to throw a listener out of this twosome's sound despite having little in the way of compelling combinations within to make the agony worth the while. Somehow that notion was lost between the likes of Bathory, Mayhem, and Emperor coming into this new breed of garish pandemonium that prefers to make meaningless meandering electronica over maleficent metal, having no inner aspect to unearth in order to reward the listener for his diligence in finding the gem shimmering beneath the compounding layers of noise.

Though the splash of blasting into the roiling soup of “Omen of the Barren Womb” is a slight section of satisfaction before denying that enjoyment its elaboration, a constant state of decay in these diminishing wails of Arabian antagonism (in spite of its staunch unbending construction) results in sterile and ineffectual musical tantrums with nary a structure worth deconstruction due to its refusal to depart from its dry driven tracks. Granted, Ævangelist's footprint bears the characteristics of avant-garde black metal, its inlaid treble helix swirling in the tempestuous storms of such a style built by deluges of destruction, but its art is simply no contender with the likes of Benighted in Sodom or any of the other profligate analogues to Matron Thorn's ambition. This example in Ævangelist is a show of how stale a single mind may become, especially in a band beginning its own internal meltdown and advertising it as publicly as possible. Yet somehow this project has had the longevity of a seven year long career consisting of six full-length albums, two splits, a live album, and a compilation. Considering how many awful ideas are incorporated into only 'Matricide in the Temple of Omega', it is clear that Ævangelist is only so prolific due to its nightmarish self-importance, recording every terrible idea that pops into its head as though it can become the next Troma Entertainment if only it can ship out as much inane content as possible. Yet like such contemporaries as Zarach 'Baal' Tharagh (thankfully silent for the past few years) and Sloth (a daily deluge of worthless garbage), this attempt to show one's brilliance by flooding an uninterested market means merely one's personal humiliation.

Where the likes of Njiqahdda's daunting discography enjoyed its noise through rushing waves that gracefully ebbed and flowed, incorporating its brashest bits between breaths of atmosphere, intelligently building and structuring its savagery, Ævangelist employs the textbook 'scare the children' technique of sharp screeches stabbing simple sounds, as though its haunting visions of Hell have been singularly cultivated from pop out scares in low budget horror flicks. This works in the raw forms of more bassy production and allowing shadows to overcome flowery treble, but in this open and sharp production such a notion stands to unravel what could be a worthwhile direction. Best saved for a generic Hollywood trailer that slows down an '80s pop song in order to make ominous the trials of the beautiful interacting with a green screen, Matron Thorn and Ascaris' attempts to shock a listener fall flat.

As the music has few personal touches and even less personality, the band seems set on making its mark in the press over concentrating on its craft. With Matron Thorn under the scrutiny of Facebook accusations and Ascaris supposedly ousted from the band, this duo seems to be as unstable as its art is uneven and disjointed. Through music that will never live up to the caliber of its scandal, 'Matricide in the Temple of Omega' seems to be the death knell of a terrible tangent in the careers of Matron Thorn and Ascaris. As public as this meltdown gets, it surely won't even get its own episode of S. V. U. to tag the joke. If this band is as good at sex as it is at making music there are sure to be many unhappy court dates to come. (Five_Nails)

giovedì 14 marzo 2019

Caustic Vomit - Festering Odes to Deformity

#FOR FANS OF: Death/Doom, Disembowelment
Toning down what has already been a commonly slow pace in much of the early days of death metal, Caustic Vomit finds its sputum splattered all over the scene with an agonizing pace that finds its girth heaved around in short frenzied rushes throughout the three tracks comprising an exhaustive half hour in 'Festering Odes to Deformity'.

As putrid resonance pools around ears, the fumes of doom transfix a listener intoxicated by thunderous tuning that grimly grumbles in the bubbling mire. Then, without warning, the despondent desperation shakes itself out with roiling double bass and clanging cymbals, the grim filthy riff explodes after a shrill moment of feedback, and blasting begins. The song finds its swing in time for shrieking Slayer soloing to begin its rampage and the rancid glory, the fruit of this disgusting labor, is finally savored. Suddenly, we're back in the swamp again. However, the cycle has slightly sped up and “Immured in Devouring Rot” has its microbial movements multiplied, rolling around its raucous rhythm in slightly quicker fashion while still slogging back into its agonizing pace. Issuing forth another shrill riffing rejoinder to the bassy advance leaves the listener knowing that this cycle will continue, a horrific deterioration that exemplifies these 'Festering Odes to Deformity'.

What Caustic Vomit shows is an involvement in accenting its decrepit doom pace with the malodorous machinations of old school death metal crushes that lash out at the mushy meter like an unborn child writhing away at the confines of its amniotic sac. In this vein, “Churning Bowel Tunnels” carves caverns with the meaty relentlessness of Coffins in swings and stomps that made “Slaughter of Gods” crush as well as play with the disjointed filthy sound of chaos in it. The extra torsion of blasting helps to propel this machine's bore deeper into the depravity of these songs of sickness and drowns falling treble tremolos in an acidic soup of digestive putridity. The snare and cymbal combination cracks like an anvil, molding disfigurement from the guitars as they cry to escape the mutant tendrils of this deadly orgiastic ooze, but instead cell division ends up spurred by the secretions of the filth pit, a sludge pregnant with hate and spawning disgust.

Finally, after the infectious scourge erupts from the colonic cavern, comes “Once Coffined Malformities” with the excitement of an undead uprising and the contorted gait best adopted by decomposing hungries. Foreboding harmony flourishes in searing strings as this song illustrates the prowess of its creators in concocting an achingly sadistic structure on which to flay its prisoners. From its uncomfortably slow starts comes a strikingly sweet scent of decay as each song festers and mutates into its most monstrous form. The blasting segments are the energy fed from such morsels of flesh and horrific churns of digestion to become an all-too-graphic examination of the inner working of a death metal mutant, cross sectioned and framed behind plexiglass for the world to see, like the digestion machine offering art and eccentricity in its rawest form to the bewilderment of its unsuspecting audience. (Five_Nails)


(Redefining Darkness Records - 2018)
Score: 82

https://causticvomit.bandcamp.com/album/festering-odes-to-deformity

lunedì 4 marzo 2019

Eremit - Carrier of Weight

#FOR FANS OF: Sludge/Doom
True to doom form, a massive lumbering lead guitar inhales the smoke of dying civilizations as growling and hacking vocals heave their ways across the desolation of “Dry Land”. Eremit becomes its own beast of burden in 'Carrier of Weight' and stumbles through the sludge of its reverb in search of relief from this treacherous strand. A very John Tardy feel comes with the vocals as the gravely unhinged scream of Florida's sickest sound finds its mirror in Moritz Fabian's voice, making the guitar billow clouds of grain to choke away such anguish. The pacing throughout over twenty-three minutes of “Dry Land” is reminiscent of the Altar of Betelgeuze's 2017 album, 'Among the Ruins', without the final step into the rays of an expanding sun to melt you away. Instead, you slowly starve to death as this agonizing song saps you of your nutrients and leaves you to finally be washed away by the incoming tide.

“Froth is Beckoning” brings that deluge with a massage of strings, fingers that become the legs of spiders, curling around you like the tireless onslaught of a lunar tide. This grimy and enchanting sound follows you for a few minutes before tumbling deeper into a chasm of inescapable darkness.

Epic longitude through three tracks is difficult to pull off. Flowing in a thought provoking manner from movement to movement without compromising the integrity of a song to keep a listener's focus makes it difficult to negotiate the distances a song will trek and what baggage it is willing to carry with it along the journey. Where “Dry Land” lost its luster, the energy of “Froth is Beckoning” absolutely brought that power back and, in the tips of its second riff, left me wondering where the soar of Pelican may come swooping by or, in its lowest register, when the intensity of a blast would squeeze its way in. Instead, none of that expected release would loosen Eremit's grip on a my neck, choking the throat and refusing to let go with the release for which I was so hoping. Like the torture of hanging by a hook waiting for your captor to return, the walls start to close in with a slight kick that speeds up the riff and drumming to make for a sloshing flow.

Then comes the monstrous final portion of the album, dragged out into a half-hour epic. Where “Dry Land” flowed like the dirty water of a receding flood into “Froth is Beckoning”, “Cocoon of Soul” takes a cleaner approach in its first minutes with an echoing atmosphere humming across the register. It is a satisfying payoff after nearly thirty-five minutes of very samey droning to hear a song that moves and varies while it drowns in the despair of doom. Like the chrysalis to which its title refers, this song wraps you tightly in its ever more claustral walls of guitar, slowly evolving and savoring every mutating muting of a previously plodding pace before crystallizing in the scream of a soul to escape its confines and be reigned in again over long progressions that last minutes at a time.

Though the imposing entirety of this package aims to daunt the listener with its ever-thundering power, there are few drum fills and deviations from form to bend the structure. Instead, these three tracks come more like a soundtrack to one's interment in a prison, an engrossing experience transfixing the listener with its subtleties throughout such minimal variation. 'Carrier of Weight' sews itself into your sinews, like a cancer that cannot be removed without splitting the brain and sacrificing who you are. The cage becomes the Stockholm syndrome love that you cannot live without, until the tiniest crack in the seams is spied. For a moment there is a way out. All of your self-denial, the indoctrination and convincing and the lies that lighten the load dissipate as you plunge towards the crack, blasting and screaming, wailing and tearing in time to the instruments in the hope that such raucous fury can quake these confines. The heart leaps, fingernails bend and break in the thrashing at the wall, and finally the force of this eruption, the deluge so long desired, breaks the thickness of these walls to set you free. Eremit has finally found catharsis. (Five_Nails)

martedì 26 febbraio 2019

Vanir - Allfather

#FOR FANS OF: Viking, Amon Amarth
Vanir is a band that, on paper, should be buttering my bread. A thick layer of bass clouds the mix while shafts of light break through in choral cries. Chest-pounding rhythms stomp through meaty melodic guitar riffs and images of grizzled ancients thrown about by massive waves complete the atmosphere of “Ironside” as landfall comes with a tide of chaos. The murky melancholy of glorious battle is brought by thunderous drumming, raging rhythms, and soloing six strings aching to accentuate the intensity of peril amidst the clashing of shield walls.

There is a palpable zeal in this dense almost atonal delivery, one as colorless as a collage of weathered stones and fading runes. The massive marching momentum of 'Allfather' cracks you across the face with a flying riff on occasion or a solo that spurs sails forward, but end up crashing into staggering waves of plodding verses and forgettable choruses that salt the wounds opened by such heartfelt moments. Attempts to outdo Bathory in atmosphere fall painfully flat as this flawlessly clean delivery roots itself in a groundwork of stiff blackened death aesthetic and the surrounding yawns of choir and synth make bleak what should be the clenching of a triumphant gauntleted fist. There is little to characterize this band in its own space, merely a series of tropes thrown at a template so basic and phoned in that it's clear why this band is entirely forgotten in the overflowing sea of folk, extreme, and viking themed metal bands populating Scandinavia and swarming scenes the world over with a reach that would make their ancestors weep.

The opening song, “Væringjar” is very much a testament to what you'll hear throughout the rest of the album. Melodic riffs with death metal aesthetic, a very Amon Amarth similarity as this folk metal overruns its power metal presentation with the harsh vocals and bass-heavy thunder of this modern more brash brood. Hulking melodies majestically flow like the grizzled beard of a great warrior, his outstretched arm gripping a rope as waves toss his boat to and fro, a blizzard fueling the large square sail as “Ironside” tumbles to tears of riffs and sprays of double bass. However, beyond the theme of songs like “Ulfhednar” about wolf-skin wearing berserkers of old, the energetic “Shieldwall” opening with a sample from the television show “Vikings” before crashing into its murky production, or “Einherjer”, named for the fallen who are brought to Valhalla, the album revels in an epically stagnant blandness that swamps over the wide gaps between its richest moments.

The Amon Amarth style flows too obviously when melody comes up. A guitar moment in “Einherjer” is taken right out of Judas Priest's “You've got Another Thing Coming” and is easily found in Amon Amarth's “The Beheading of a King”, “An Ancient Sign of Coming Storm”, and “Under the Northern Star”, but altogether is best shown in Amon Amarth's take on Judas Priest in “Burning Anvil of Steel”. This is totally derivative and its rise is the sort of blackened quip that Primordial employs to great release throughout 'Redemption at the Puritan's Hand' among many other black metal offerings that plunge into the ethereal sea in submarines of blast beats for a weekend of “Murmaider”. The reality is though, this moment is a meaty rip off of the opening riff to “She Sells Sanctuary” by The Cult, yet another derivative metal moment that I cannot unhear. Funny how the biggest standout in this release is also its most cliched moment, making an album that's supposed to be brash, grandiose, and powerful fall directly onto its face.

As Amon Amarth enters a new era of creative bankruptcy so epic that the government of Sweden will need to bail the band out in order to prop up its Dethklokian economy, this depression spreads to its Danish cousins as Vanir defaults on its loans from the viking cliché while making music as absent of life as the graves it robs for an identity. The reality is that this album isn't blatantly awful and doesn't feature any flubs. There's no single moment of cringe, save for the clean singing in the German vocalized “Fejd”, and the album becomes a flat plane of plain music. 'Allfather' is astonishingly average and makes Amon Amarth sound fresh and still vibrant in comparison, which is all sorts of sad when considering just how out of steam Vanir's Swedish cousins are. For an album that attempts to sound so monumental in aesthetic, its execution is so bland and blatant a rip off that it makes for a forgettable and disappointing listen when opening an ear a bit more beyond the band's fantastic presentation. (Five_Nails)

(Mighty Music - 2019)
Score: 65

venerdì 8 febbraio 2019

AERA - The Craving Within

#FOR FANS OF: Epic Black, Gorgoroth
Elaborating on its ambition with another drab album cover, AERA pans out from the flush foliage that made up a shroud of dark trees across nearly half of the black-contrasting-grey sky in order to reveal desolation as larger cloud formations impose themselves on shrinking bits of blackened earth. At first glance this enshadowed area is burned and gnarled, as though devastated by conflagration. However, this expanse of sky spans over the rolling hills and mists settle the gullies between. AERA has taken a step back to catch more light in its lens and now shows that even clearer in its latest offering.

With this clarity in an album cover comes a clarity in AERA's direction as well. Twisted and disturbing harmony expresses desolation through biting winds as “Skaldens Død” explodes with percussion sweeping up the treble as synth and screams become the second envelopment of a pincer on the razor sharp foreground. Crying frosty riffing swamps the atmosphere in “Frost Within” with a sound that could easily be accompanied by piano however it instead takes its tearing tone well into “Rite of Odin” keeping a flow together that reaches apogee and then succumbs to silence. While fury is the sound of the day in the first half of the album, ensuring that AERA's uncompromising black metal effect is just as palpable as it was in 'Of Forsworn Vows', the duo has now taken its time in a full-length to show a greater breadth in its music through the latter half that opens up the expanse to some color in this generally drab and flat presentation.

Establishing a new flow with a gruff chant, “Profetien” bears some martial characteristics similar to Gorgoroth's pummeling “Profetens Åpenbaring” before its march becomes blasted away with the airy shrieks and hammering blasting that fills its ethereal atmosphere with hints of Njiqadhha's relentless layering. Breaking into a quiet and somber chant to an acoustic guitar, the song turns from grief to vengeance as it resumes it marching pace. Slightly branching out with a new approach, “Profetien” shows that AERA is capable of creating a second movement within a song that thoroughly switches gears to bring more than one flat emotion to the forefront. Rage becomes supplanted with melancholy for a small sparkling interlude before Satyricon sawing comes through again to remind the listener of just how immersed into its space AERA remains, coming off again as bland and recycled rather than overwhelming, brutal, or evil. Just because the guitar is obnoxiously shrill in the mix, it doesn't make the music match up, especially considering this guitar still doesn't rise to the occasion of the shrillness of a Burzum or Demonaz album. Instead, this production ensures that its hazy sound is as flat as its delivery and the lacking bass end is just audible enough but still not very impactful. The only memorable things about “Profetien” are the pagan chanting at the beginning and the clarity of that almost Agalloch movement, the balls out black metal is boring with uninspired Satyricon scraps passionlessly and predictably performed, employed in strong formula but giving little reason for its application.

Luckily, an astute example of beautality comes in the vicious opening riff to “Join Me Tomorrow” before becoming a scramble of synth, searing cymbals, and shrieks climbing to an apogee of tension and harmony in its timbres to explore cavernous echo as well as a majestic landscape. Vocals as fierce and airy as Njiqadhha's, and an overall pace that shows some dynamism in AERA's approach rather than stagnates and stands in place makes this song hit much better than the samey opening songs while also providing a bit of commercial appeal to an album entranced with its esoteric ritual. The solo in “Join Me Tomorrow” comes through well erupting from the grain and the “wishing and hoping” screaming through the blast beating and wailing guitars calls to a bit of Gaahl era Gorgoroth while also calling to the album's title and elaborating on 'The Craving Within'. Though this song could be a great closer to the album, the zeal of “Norrøn Magi” keeps the album to a more folksy standard and ensures that the ethereal rise behind the fury reeks of Lustre and Alcest becoming beautality as it brings forth harmonious melody from the guitars, making them look to light and begin to stray from the searing tumult of darkness in tremolo ecstasy.

In a heartwarming turn of step, AERA has discovered an anthemic reach within the brutality of its very Satyricon inspired music. Reaching a new precipice in this combination of delicate melody accentuating its all-too-overt approach that has grown into flatness and insipidity has ensured an album balanced enough between its intense edge and its accessible accouterments to bring a meaningful menagerie of metal moments while enduring 'The Craving Within', a deep desire for some sort of inspiration that would make for a band actually worth an audience's time.

AERA knocked this album out of the park in a lot of ways. This is an album that is very bottom heavy in that its end tracks show off more personality and variety than the intense and atonally focused beginning, but that turn from the epic atmosphere and samey Satyricon tearing in “Skaldens Død” and “Frost Within” to the mid-paced and more anthemic sounds of “Profiten” and “Norrøn Magi” makes the album much more listenable and entertaining.

Still, AERA is nearly as dull as its album covers and though the band attempts a few bits of nuance in pagan chanting, clean interludes, a beautiful use of synth as it rises with the guitar in “Join Me Tomorrow”, and finally hits the right notes on “Norrøn Magi”, the finer points of the album are too little too late. The eternity of the first three tracks of near nothingness, the endless repetition of a basic and banal chord progression that was already cemented in 'Pure Holocaust' make for an album as derivative and repetitive as it is uninspired and annoying. AERA needs to become its own band because 'The Craving Within' is just so uncreative that it shows just how much of a hole black metal has dug for itself as all panache and flash is lost to stoically standing still holding a candelabra and pretending you're epic.

In spite of its fury early on and the anthemic turn toward the end of the album, 'The Craving Within' doesn't really ignite much of a passion resulting in an album that leaves as much an empty space as it joins the long list of bland bands that can tie a small interesting knot into another basic noose. (Five_Nails)

sabato 19 gennaio 2019

Moss Upon the Skull - In Vengeful Reverence

#FOR FANS OF: Prog Death, Gorguts
The way a band presents itself can sometimes be a perfect prelude for how it will sound. Inky details across a blank canvass show Belgium's Moss Upon the Skull as a band elaborating on a sound as filled in by the noise of generations as it is emblazoning itself on a new fiber. Moss Upon the Skull does its death metal well, not brilliantly with the frills that many a band may use to seem out of the norm and stretch its streaks across the death metal soundscape, but this band brings more a methodical and appropriately concocted conclusion able to burn slower and baste in its ideas. Smooth brilliance striped through simple motions make for calligraphy upon this tapestry of guitars that is seldom seen in a world of jagged edges and sharp poignant pieces. This band's jazz is as potent as its catastrophe and both work beautifully, intermixing each to form a disillusioning and disorienting world as seen through lucid eyes the burdens of horrific fate.

Technical, intricate, and intoxicating in its disorientation, Moss Upon the Skull festers and grows as harmonic leads are entangled and choked by an imposition of malignant bass, contorting each pleasant moment into an impending horror. Relentless rhythmic interchanges and an everflowing river of creativity ensure a consistent tension accompanies this bewildering Lethean journey as progressions meet ruination, animation is governed by decay, and each new structure builds off the last while simultaneously denoting the large swaths of time that elegantly acknowledge crumbling old pillars and the rises of new monuments sprouting up like mushrooms on the rotting carcasses of fallen giants. True to its name and album title, Moss Upon the Skull shows in its genetic coding the filth of the past generations of the metal milieu, playing 'In Vengeful Reverence' many terrifying twists on the harmonies of old to shore up a new technical monument to the past decades of abnormal progress.

Gritty and chewy guitars in “Disintegrated” masticate a rhythm, like a toothless hunger gumming down on a steak with sinew slowly dissolving in a wave of saliva, each enzyme breaking down molecules and reconstituting them in squalid squelching strings. However, that gushing sound is not an uncommon rejoinder to these unusual structures but a consistent foil to the burgeoning beauty behind these laborious deconstructions. Compelling harmonies and riffing in “Impending Evil”, searing guitar chords with prickly sprays of black metal sleet employed in an almost grunge fashion through “Lair of the Hypocrite” before a dingy disorienting harmonic breakdown, and, in an interlude as funky as it is contorted by the preeminence of evil in this band's sound, gorgeous riffing at the end of “Serving the Elite” show that these scraping riffs are the estuary from which spout intricate tributaries culminating in swamps of filth from elaborate contortions through rich mindful landscapes.

Unlikely to longingly linger on a nostalgic note or allow a breakdown to fester in its deterioration, the title track ensures that its fury retains an amorphous structure as it engineers a guitar bridge while under fire from volleys of blast beats. “In Vengeful Reverence” molds a monstrous amalgamation of prominent death metal structures while laying bare their bones as though witnessing the construction of Parisian catacombs. Throughout this album is an ever-focused timeless eye, one that utilizes its alchemy to piece together these contorted monuments and finally, by the time of reaching “Unseen, Yet Allseeing”, arrives with such fanfare akin to the metal standard that it sounds like a renaissance movement unearthed while exploring underground.

Homage finds itself imbued in the details among these intricate abnormalities. It comes through well in the end of “Peristalith” with the accursed Demilich round as it awkwardly walks through a storm of blast beating reminiscent of “The Echo”. This filthy and elaborate delivery expounds upon the technical squeals of a caged race enduring the bidding of its captors as songs flow with impressionistic fluidity underscoring the roles of numerous notes added to each flowing sound and the sharp grotesquerie of a structure when stripped down to its most basic components. Through a calculated mid-paced punch accentuated by a dragging lead guitar, “The Serpent Scepter” shows these swaths coming through in delirious distortions of chords and scrambles the harmony with scratchy technicality as it increases in intensity backed up by long drumming fills and crafty changeups. The anarchical desire to punch through these riffs with such funky drumming ensures that even the most rote moments of rise and drop smoothly worm their ways into impactful routines of technical exercise.

Gritty, cavernous, and intricate Moss Upon the Skull intermixes fierce technicality with gorgeous harmony to journey through its awkward and inverted 'In Vengeful Reverence'. Laying a groundwork of horror from which harmony must claw makes this inversion of every modern musical sensibility come through with elaborate and slyly perverse enjoyability. Esoteric curling harmonies and aggressive amorphous drumming show off a band unable to find contentment in sitting on a structure for too long while the decaying delay on the guitars works well to sharpen the impact of each note and also ensures a simultaneously dreary and dreamlike delivery. A flow that is as debilitating as the jarring madness of traversing the Leth river and humbling in its simultaneously haunting and enchanting, familiar and esoteric offerings, the cleanliness of the band's production compliments the relentless interchanges and ever-flowing creativity typifying an album that shows death metal remaining ripe in 2018. (Five_Nails)

domenica 13 gennaio 2019

Oak Pantheon/Amiensus - Gathering II


#FOR FANS OF: Atmospheric Black/Prog/Folk/Metalcore/Post Metal
Short, sweet, and direct to the point of being curt, this fresh perforation of the heart is a worthwhile listen that shows each band involved eschewing much of the surplusage that held back the previous 'Gathering'. After half a decade and Oak Pantheon and Amiensus return for a follow-up to their first collaboration with a co-created song between an original apiece. Starting with a tune reminiscent of a cowboy clip-clopping into a town ready to gun down the gang controlling it, “A Demonstration” comes in with a combination as vividly Western as it is driven by the esoteric folkloric sound that has been driving European metal for years. Razor sharp guitars take this pace into a gallop down the deserted foresty path where Oak Pantheon is most accustomed, ensconced in the darkness of ancient growth and paying homage to the many bands before this new altar. This rambling pace makes pinches of strings and raps of snare slightly escape the flow of the song with a sort of earnest and humble folksy Celtic sound before tightening up into a tear and blast that quickly dissipates. The variety throughout this song flows majestically as the quick drastic hits fall back into the resonating reverence to conjure a series of solos that get knocked around by snare. Closing with the simple and impactful trickle of guitar notes, Oak Pantheon is a far cry from its early and more single-minded days in 'The Void' and 'From a Whisper' and now the band is showing a scope in a single song far wider than it once could explore in an album.

After Oak Pantheon's example of its increasingly inspiring course is the collaborative piece “Tanequil”, showing off a very melodic soundscape brutalized by aggressive drumming and rhythmic changes in a chorus of splendid scraping deviation, a flow that moves in a mixture of indie rock and grinds out the raging aspect of each band beautifully between dulcet verses dripping with emotion. As though tsunami waves overcome a seaside tower, these drastic deluges successfully compliment this more modern metalcore bounce and post-metal treble to create a sound that hints at the atmospheric blackened style of Oak Pantheon and the technical proclivities of Amiensus with a more streamlined flow able to gracefully combine these sounds without compromising their melancholy or fury respectively.

Amiensus' offering shows a stark change in the band's music from the first collaboration, as well as provides an astute cap to the experience. With a more emotional track, lilting in guitars and vocalization alike, as drumming continues to roar through technical tapestry alongside deathcore beatdowns, “Now Enters Dusk” shows off soloing guitars, a more straightforward blackened sound at the end joined by drawn out blasting, and a labyrinth of strings flowing in crisp harmony across the razor sharp atmosphere to round out the song. Providing compositional prowess without being too artsy for its own good as well as backing this sound with varied and moving production that captures the strengths shown throughout this track ensure that Amiensus has been on a steady path to improvement and presents it well throughout “Now Enters Dusk”. Years back, “Arise” did exactly as its title suggested, rising and rising in a relentless blinding elaboration with no payoff but pain with nerves seared by sunlight as more and more layers drive upward into the tones of tortured cats. Conversely, “Now Enters Dusk” inverts that explosion as it falls more gracefully, tumbling at times and bringing both the coldness and darkness to overcome the world as it becomes enchanted with the lengthening of shadows and waning of the sun.

Five years to the day after their first 'Gathering' Oak Pantheon and Amiensus have even tighter entwined their fates with a strong sequel, one where both bands show off some major strengths and especially show how they have come into their own over this past half decade. Where the last 'Gathering' seemed so disparate and Oak Pantheon came across looking the better, this release shows each band playing incredibly well and Amiensus coming out just a hair ahead of the other. Though this is no contest, both these bands are in the running for audience affections at any given time and their inspired collaboration in “Tanequil” shows the incredible accomplishments that can be made through this partnership as new ideas enhance the deliveries of both bands rather than highlight their differences as was too obvious five years ago. A tighter fit in the songwriting and production departments has also influenced each band's approach to 'Gathering II' making for such a cohesive combination that it seems as though written by a single band. (Five_Nails)
 
(Self - 2018)
Score: 85
 

giovedì 20 dicembre 2018

Birnam Wood - Wicked Worlds

#FOR FANS OF: Stoner/Doom, Sleep
With an album cover that absolutely needs to be a poster, the meaty production that finally does the justice this band deserves, and a sample fitting its name and initial theme as a band, “Dunsinane” brings Birnam Wood into fruition with killer soloing, a powerful explosion of verses, and the revelation that this badass Boston quartet has finally blossomed after staying strong on its Sleepy Sabbath path. Without trying to reinvent itself every album, like all too many bands do or (in some cases) absolutely need to do, Birnam Wood has smartly stuck to its distinct direction and it has payed off in the happiest surprise of 2018. The shamelessly Sabbath inspired 'Wicked Worlds' provides a crushing climax to this year and the pride of achievement for a band deserving of its success.

Craning its neck to observe the distance, a raven frames the center of a cover enamored with the regal shades of purple cloaks and green laurels, a photo negative in any other respect with plenty of black and gray to emulate the originators of heavy metal in their own fourth volume. Birnam Wood's 'Vol. 4' brings the psychedelic attitude of a smoked out Sabbath while wearing the riff-guzzling gas masks of Sleep. In very “Sweet Leaf” fashion, “Richard Dreyfuss” shouts “cock-a-doodle-doo” across the speakers before conjuring a riff that starts out as a slow “Snowblind” and grinds the grist with a mind-splitting, bass-heavy, scream and stomp rumble as resonance cascades into clear riffing rises ensuring that blues evolves from the oozy bed. From the filthy “Early Warning” comes predictions of a nuclear hailstorm with the grumbling of static from an evaporated society bringing lilts of fiery devastation, buttoning up each riff with the blinding clarity of fresh flashes before another lingering mushroom cloud of distortion envelops the sonic expanse.

This gargantuan approach, like whales breaching the surface of seas of sludge, is a captivating show of Birnam Wood's strength as the simplicity of the basic heavy metal foursome format is astutely executed, plunging like a knife into a belly, draping intestines over your shoulders, and performing burlesque bathed in blood. The grit that so delights and defines the now, a reaction to a world so obsessed with cleanliness and clarity through high definition, perfectly interplays with these shameless Sabbath snippets as each song weaves itself into the threads of this timeless music and sews its own patch into the denim of yesteryear. A psychedelic break in “Greenseer” with wavering guitars, the fades of a crunchy drum laid in the background, and an abundant series of solos shows Birnam Wood rousting its affinity for improvisation as the band splatters this jam all over the studio, recklessly runs right through another waterfall solo section in “A Song for Jorklum”, and cannot help but re-explore the intoxicating draw of the East in “Return to Samarkand”, jubilantly marching with all its new panoply of war.

Birnam Wood has finally found the production befitting its sound, and with that production has also come its most inspired work to date as quality continually inclines an ear to perk up at each fizzling fade of a note. The overwhelmingly meaty guitar, the band's willingness to loose itself upon a good riff in earnest exploration, and the sheer rapture of this climactic culmination in 'Wicked Worlds' renews a metalhead's zeal for the joy of jamming and playing with a focus on preeminence over pretense. As the result of the past four years of effort, Birnam Wood has very much come into its own as a cohesive unit and expressed its ambitious strengths through powerful heavy rock and beautiful blues that, as addling as a rush of chemicals, presents a potent product. (Five_Nails)

martedì 11 dicembre 2018

Tristania - Beyond the Veil

BACK IN TIME:
#FOR FANS OF: Death/Gothic
Drastic and bombastic, Tristania provides a fine example of the breadth of heavy metal in sinister symphonic tones, gothic theatrics, and a classic example of cleanliness and propriety meeting the hazy gloom of such an inverted style, making its simultaneously catchy and esoteric visions transform from an alluring siren into the violent succubus as its sinister other side appears. Flirting with the many tropes in classical music from startling operatic highs to a symphony of strings, sometimes synthesized and other times implied through an electric and acoustic guitar combination, 'Beyond the Veil' is a descent into perdition promising the privations populating such a plane with angelic allure.

Simultaneously, Tristania denies the classical sound its monopoly with a tinny drum recording that becomes the catalyst for more techno oriented exchanges later in the album and hazy harmonies that swell in short bursts. The schizophrenia of loosing fire at such gorgeous constructs is a common theme in metal, a juxtaposition that relishes the relationship between carefully created beauties and a destructive counterpart. In Tristania this becomes a major focus as subtle hints of the harsh reality 'Beyond the Veil' become a world of strife as the album progresses.

From this approach is a worthy wellspring of fresh and tantalizing variety, decadent and arousing while also crisp and cutting in spite of such lengthy and expansive riffs and harmonies that diabolically document the derangement of one's descent into a world of ritual and death. A long swinging churn to the title track brings unmistakable choral highs and tinkling cymbals, the wailing web of guitars delicately settles along a middling pace that easily worms into an ear and, in reaching apogee through soloing while buffeting such cries with double bass, finally finds the sonorous swing expand into a prickly deluge to satisfy even Satyricon with its torrents of grain. “Aphelion” and “A Sequel of Decay” make obvious the turn of intoxicating tones and inviting momentum into the demonic as you enter the embrace of the succubus, a creature literally fucking her way through “Opus Relinque” before tearing out swollen hearts. To say that Tristania's approach is transparent is an understatement, the obvious balance of harmony and hatred is belted across your face like domestic violence at the opera, but that doesn't diminish the theatrical enjoyment of the theme or the profane potency of “Angina” when a cavalcade of choirs clash for control.

The creativity and craft employed through this album ensure a consistently inventive approach that allows the band to experiment at times but also limit itself to only its most presentable attempts. Where “Aphelion” drags at times, its methodical sound accentuating a dormant beauty far from the heat of the Sun, its subtle movements enchant in symphony from the flowing chorus punched by double bass to a heart melting interlude where beautiful highs and a weeping verse pluck at each artery. The nearly eight minutes of this song shows the band patiently holding itself back until its dam breaks and ducts overflow. A piece that by far outruns the track lengths of the rest of the album, “Aphelion” becomes a staple show of the careworn strife breaking into rage that tantalizes Tristania and appropriately harbors its drastic breadth.

Shining in the spotlight are the sopranos from Vibeke Stene, her incredible vocal delivery brings beauty and strength with every cry and fulfills a an enticing half of a filthy combination when joined by Morten Veland's growls. Opening “A Sequel to Decay” with a choir of intense cries easily shows the rhythm employed in this nearly chanting operatic while Veland's range is more protracted, embracing the decadence and magnificent sound of a gruff and massive presence similar to Peter Steele of Type O Negative. At other times Veland employs heaving growls and, with a choir aided by drummer Kenneth Olsson and guitarist Anders H. Hidle, the ensemble completes its medieval majesty. The twinkling apogees and insidious abysses greatly compliment the instrumental deliveries showing that Stene and Veland's contributions are among the many masterstrokes in structuring as well as sounding out the album to make it such a memorable and astounding experience.

Synth plays a prominent role from tinkling classical piano keys and symphonic strings to the wild jarring horns later in its hellish progress. Employed by Einar Moen, one of the major forces behind the songwriting, the placement of synth enlarges the range of this album by giving it the unmistakable theatrical characteristics that capture the magnitude of Tristania's ambition. The snare drum, pacing the percussion at a laborious and lamenting step, has the sharpness of shattering glass and compliments these bouncing rhythms as guitar joins symphonic strings, winding around a choir to create machinery of chaos and hatred by the turn in “. . . Of Ruins and a Red Nightfall”. Like the heartless clanging denoting the fires consuming Fangorn Forest, Isengard melts and molds metals into a new mechanism of conquest.

An ever-energetic motion below the snare finds constant implementation. Double bass brings personality to the central hammer as it pumps like a bellows and brings heat to make malleable the clanging cymbals overhead. Like an endless ride down winding trails in “Lethean River”, the clip clop of double bass is where one notices how riding these percussive fills and interludes typify the bridges between verses and choruses. As majestic as mounting an eagle to escape from the imploding Mount Doom, these amorphous undulating movements create in sound the defined, sinewy, and romantically detailed image of Pegasus taking flight.

Where the band made emotions meander through its opera early in the album, things become more straightforward and streamlined through the back half. A personal favorite, “Angina” brings Stene's voice so high that it nearly becomes as comical as “Take On Me” and its high C. Still, the cascade of choir tumbling down from such a gorgeous summit is the epitome of Tristania's unusual and calamitous sine wave. Cymbals dancing in concert with piano keys while walled into a pit by a crowd of double bass conjures images of a stately show where metalheads meet aristocracy and all gather in lively celebration of the music. Distant organ and marching guitar riffing conjure images of a “Heritique” transported across space-time as flames engulf the stake, a raucous crowd receives its satisfaction, and a star bursts from a blasphemous chest.

Tristania's treble is mainly concerned with an energetic and elaborate labyrinth of strings, upheld by Morten Veland and Anders H. Hidle who tirelessly strum through lengthy lamentatious riffs that harmonize and break from one another with a smooth and studious flow, sometimes finding frenzy or chomping into a juicy rhythm, but never disabusing itself of the bountiful beauty found in resonating strings. In its most frantic moments, clarity is lost in the very treble oriented mix making such a saturated end become slightly hazy and indistinct. In a song like “Aphelion”, where its lumbering gait holds court for the majority of the song, this grandiose sound has a crispness that becomes muddled as layers are added on. Still, the majority of the production is listenable enough though in need of a bit more range on its low end to lend a tighter fist to this expansive energy and bring the necessary punch.

Tristania is a succubus in sound, one that many a man would happily embrace. Wearing a sinister grin as it consumes your soul, its once alluring form quickly contorts into a vengeful demon. Brimming with brief but compelling moments, 'Beyond the Veil' happily babbles like a brook throughout its enticing bubblegum bits, a denial of the darkness lingering behind the lovely cover of stark-naked sirens seemingly sleeping among the rocks of a hot spring refuge. Where the woman in the foreground appears to be enwrapped in a peaceful slumber, the fog settling across the background has begun to obscure bodies unceremoniously lying where they stood showing, as one figure lords herself over the fallen, that slaughter must take place in order for one's ascension. Like its magnificent music, Tristania's foreground of beauty belies the sinister reality that awaits 'Beyond the Veil'. (Five_Nails)